Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Death…

It was familiar. Oh, so very familiar. But this time, it felt different—more final, more complete. No cycle of agony, no cruel return, no do-over. Just an end.

And yet, as the void pulled him under, he felt no resistance. No struggle. No desperate clawing to stay afloat.

Satisfied.

Yes, that was the word. He was satisfied with his death, satisfied with the way the flames had swallowed the world in a funeral pyre of his own making. Satisfied with the nothingness that awaited him.

He had lost everything—

Elsa.
Meili.
His spirit.

All gone. Burned away by his own hands. By his own love.

All for her.

The woman he had loved.

"I love you..."

A whisper, soft and delicate, yet suffocating in its weight. A voice that slithered into his ears, curling around his very being like chains forged from obsession.

Another familiar sensation, another echo from a life he had chosen to discard. That endless, endless prattling of love, the feverish murmur that had followed him even into death.

"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you—"

"Love me, love me, love me, love me, love me, love me, love me, love me, love me, love me—"

His mind throbbed. His very soul recoiled. Make it stop.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to claw at his ears, to silence the voice that dripped with a hunger he could never satisfy. His thoughts curled like embers in the dark, a single plea forming in the abyss—

Be silent.

And the voice obeyed.

The suffocating whispers vanished, leaving behind a stillness so complete it felt like the world itself had drawn its final breath.

And yet…

The silence was not empty. It was heavy. Disappointed.

A sadness lingered in that void, something deep and aching, like the sorrow of a mother watching her child make a choice they could never undo.

And so…

The death that should have been his last was undone.

Reality twisted. The threads of fate unraveled and wove anew.

He would not be granted the peace of nothingness. No, his story would not end here.

A purpose awaited him in a new life.

A purpose he could not refuse.

He opened his eyes.

Blinding light flooded into them, forcing him to squint as his vision adjusted. A sharp inhale filled his lungs—his first breath in this new life, and yet, it carried the same air he had known for what felt like an eternity.

Immediately, two things stood out to him.

First, he was shorter—significantly so. His limbs felt lighter, less defined. His center of gravity was lower, his clothes hung differently, and his very movements felt… unrefined. Younger.

Second, the world around him was wrong.

Not in a way most would notice—no, to the untrained eye, this was just another day in the city. The same cobblestone roads, the same buildings standing tall under the morning sun, the same bustling streets. But to him?

It was all too clean.

The cracks that had once marred the stone walls were missing. The faintest signs of wear and tear, erosion from wind and time—gone. The streets were too pristine, the wooden signs too polished. And the faces—

There were too many different faces. People who shouldn't be here. People who had long since vanished, or never should have existed in the first place.

These were meaningless details for most. Background noise, insignificant changes.

Unless you just so happened to be a man who had experienced this very scenery countless times.

A cruel smile curled across his lips.

Oh, oh, how he wanted to laugh. A deep, unhinged laugh, something torn straight from the depths of his soul. But he held it back, biting down the urge with gritted teeth. If he were to laugh now, it would unsettle those around him.

And he couldn’t have that. Not yet.

Instead, he sighed, tilting his head up towards the sky, letting the warmth of the sun wash over his face.

"I guess luck is still on my side…" he murmured, his voice carrying the weight of a man who had gambled with fate and won.

Then, after a brief pause, a smirk—

"Who am I kidding? It always is."

Luck had never abandoned him. No. It was more accurate to say that he conditioned fate to obey him, even when it had seemed as though the world had turned against him, even when everything had gone up in flames—he had still made it here.

Judging from his appearance, he was likely about five years younger than when everything had come crashing down. That meant—

Five years.

Five years to plan.

Five years to scheme.

Five years to craft the single most flawless plan this world had ever seen.

Five years to make Emilia queen.

But for now, the most pressing matter was reclaiming his influence.

The cult.
Elsa.
Meili.
His spirit.

Each piece was a pillar, a foundation of what he had built before.

Elsa and Meili could wait. Tracking them down wouldn’t be difficult—not when he already knew their habits, their haunts, and their weaknesses. He had carved their names into his mind long ago, and that knowledge would serve him well.

The cult?

That was even easier.

It would find him, no matter what he did. Pandora was creepy like that.

That woman—no, that thing—had a way of sniffing him out, like a predator lurking just beyond sight, waiting for its prey to stumble. She would come, as she always did, with that sickening smile and honeyed words dripping with promises.

The thought made his lip curl in amusement.

"Tch. No need to go looking for the abyss when it’s already staring back."

And his spirit?

There was no losing that. Not now, not ever.

It was tied to his Od, woven into his very existence. The idea of it escaping him was laughable—impossible. He could feel it, even now, like a lingering ember in the depths of his soul, waiting to be stoked back into a roaring flame.

With that, all of his immediate concerns were settled.

The foundation had been laid.

The pieces were falling into place.

Now, all that was left…

Was to burn the world.

But this time—

He’d do it right.

Chapter Text

In the pristine city of Priestella, nestled away from the grand canals and bustling streets, there was a small, cozy lodge. Within its walls, a rare moment of peace had settled—a temporary respite from the chaos that so often defined their lives.

Inside, a young man sat comfortably on a cushioned seat, his fingers idly twisting and curling a cascade of golden drill-like locks between them. A soft smile played on his lips as he absentmindedly toyed with the strands, lost in the simple pleasure of the act.

The owner of said locks, a small girl clad in an elegant pink dress, sat beside him with an expression that hovered somewhere between exasperation and reluctant indulgence.

"Is Betty’s hair simply a toy for you to play around with, in fact?" she huffed, though she made no real effort to pull away.

Subaru let out a short chuckle, tilting his head as he continued weaving and unwinding the intricate curls between his fingers.

"What? Are you saying you don’t like it, Beako?" he teased, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

Beatrice let out a tiny, dramatic sigh, her small arms crossing over her chest as she turned her nose up.

"I didn’t say that, I suppose…" she muttered, her voice quieter this time, a faint pink dusting her cheeks. "Carry on, in fact…"

Subaru grinned, his fingers resuming their gentle work, twisting her curls into new shapes before letting them bounce back into their original spirals.

"You know, Beako, for someone who pretends to be grumpy all the time, you sure are easy to spoil," he mused.

Beatrice narrowed her eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, she let herself lean ever so slightly against his side, disguising the motion as mere convenience rather than a deliberate choice.

"If you’re going to do it, then at least do it properly, in fact," she grumbled. "Your technique is lacking, I suppose."

Subaru laughed, his voice light, the warmth of their little world undisturbed—if only for now.

But, like a creeping shadow stretching under the glow of a flickering candle, the weight of the past year loomed in his mind.

The events of last year still gnawed at him. He had Elsa and Meili in checkmate. He knew he did. Every move, every escape route—he had cut them all off. And yet, when it mattered most, when the final nail was meant to be hammered in, something… someone had intervened.

A spirit. A powerful one.

It came out of nowhere, as if it had always been there, waiting for the perfect moment to slip into the game and steal his victory away.

His fingers slowed in Beatrice’s hair, his thoughts too entangled in memories to continue his idle ministrations.

“Hey, Beako…”

A soft hum of acknowledgment came from the girl beside him.

“Hm…? Betty never said you could stop praising her, I suppose…” she muttered, a hint of playfulness in her voice.

But when she turned to look at him, she immediately noticed the shift in his demeanor. The usual mischief in his eyes had dulled, replaced with something more somber, more calculating.

Her small brows furrowed slightly.

“Is everything alright, in fact?”

Subaru exhaled, running a hand through his own hair before giving her a small, reassuring smile.

“Yeah… it is. I was just wondering about that spirit… the one from last year.” His voice grew quieter, more thoughtful. “There aren’t many Great Spirits in this world, so I figured if anyone would know something, it’d be you…”

Beatrice’s expression darkened.

“Betty does not know… in fact.” Her voice was clipped, her usual sharpness laced with something more uneasy. “The existence of that child also irks Betty, I suppose…” She clenched the edge of her dress tightly, her small fingers gripping the fabric as if to keep her emotions in check.

Subaru’s brows rose slightly. It wasn’t often Beatrice was this openly disturbed by something.

“A spirit of that caliber is unable to exist in such a short period of time…” she continued, exhaling sharply, grounding herself. “It truly makes Betty’s stomach churn just thinking about it.”

There was a rare flicker of genuine unease in her normally unshakable presence. Subaru took note of it but chose not to comment. Instead, he let the silence settle between them for a moment.

Then, as if brushing away any lingering doubt, Beatrice straightened her posture and huffed.

“However,” she said, her voice regaining its usual confidence, “if you’re worried, Betty is confident she is able to beat that child, in fact.”

Subaru blinked before grinning.

“Heh… well, of course you can. You are my Beako, after all.”

Beatrice puffed her cheeks out, crossing her arms.

“Hmph. Betty approves of that statement, I suppose.”

Subaru chuckled, but deep down, his mind continued to turn.

That spirit—its power, its timing—it wasn’t normal. And if Beatrice was concerned about it, then that only made it all the more important to figure out.

But before Subaru could dive any deeper into his thoughts, a familiar, silver-bell-like voice rang out, interrupting their quiet moment.

“And what are you two doing?”

Her tone was light, inquisitive, and filled with the same gentle warmth that always made something in Subaru’s chest flutter.

As he turned, Emilia stepped into view, her silver hair cascading down her back like liquid moonlight. The soft glow of the afternoon sun caught in her amethyst eyes as she walked toward them, curiosity clear on her face.

“Nothing, Emilia-tan,” Subaru answered quickly, leaning back with a practiced air of nonchalance.

“Betty’s contractor was simply worrying for no reason, in fact,” Beatrice added, folding her arms with a huff, clearly unimpressed by the entire conversation.

Emilia blinked at them, tilting her head slightly before offering a small, reassuring smile. “Hm? If something’s bothering you, Subaru, you know you can always ask me for help, right?”

Her sincerity was enough to make his carefully crafted nonchalance waver for just a second.

And while Subaru genuinely appreciated her willingness to help… at the same time, he couldn’t exactly bring himself to rely on her so easily. Not for this.

“Nope,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “What kind of knight needs their lady to save them? There’s not a single RPG where that happens, you know?”

Emilia’s lips pursed, and she let out an exasperated sigh, her hands finding her hips.

“That’s a really dunderheaded thing of you to say, Subaru,” she said, giving him a knowing look. “Have you ever thought about the fact that you feeling bad makes me feel bad?”

That shut him up immediately.

His bravado crumbled, and a faint, guilty red spread across his cheeks. His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again as he struggled to find a comeback—but nothing came to him.

Emilia smiled softly at his dumbfounded expression, clearly pleased that her words had actually gotten through to him.

And then—

“STOP FLIRTING IN FRONT OF BETTY!!!”

Beatrice, who had been painfully aware of the entire exchange, stomped her foot, her face flushed with frustration.

Subaru coughed awkwardly, while Emilia let out a small giggle, covering her mouth with her hand.

“H-Hey, Beako, let’s not make this weird, okay?” Subaru tried, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It was already weird the moment you started flirting, in fact!!” Beatrice huffed, crossing her arms in an attempt to regain control of the situation.

Emilia, still smiling, shook her head before sitting down beside them.

“Well, I don’t mind,” she said simply. “As long as Subaru’s not hiding something dangerous, then it’s fine.”

Subaru’s expression wavered for a brief moment before he forced his usual grin back into place.

“Of course not,” he said, just a little too quickly. “Everything’s totally, totally fine.”

Neither of them looked convinced.

And, unfortunately, neither was he.

“Well, I'll choose to trust you…” she said in resignation knowing that she would most likely regret not pushing further…

“But while I have you, can you go pick something up for me? It’ll be reeeally quick, I promise.”

“All you had to say was that you needed something, i’ll be there right away!”

“Wait Subaru I didn’t tell you what I need-....”

And he was already gone…

“Betty will scold him for you later, in fact…”

Emilia didn’t reply, she just gave a soft smile… at least she knew whatever he was going to pick up it would most likely bring a smile to her face.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The streets of Priestella were as lively as ever, with merchants shouting out their wares, children running about, and the general hum of daily life filling the air. Subaru, however, was too distracted to take in the familiar sights.

Walking through the bustling city, he quickly realized something that made his steps falter.

Wait… I have no idea what I’m looking for.

Emilia had asked him to pick something up, but in his eagerness to be the dependable knight, he hadn’t even waited for her to tell him what she needed.

He groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Okay, new plan, go back and—”

Before he could turn around, a commotion caught his attention. A group of people had gathered near the center of the plaza, murmuring amongst themselves as they pointed up toward a nearby building.

Curiosity got the better of him, and he weaved his way through the crowd, slipping past bystanders until he reached the front.

The moment he looked up, his stomach twisted.

Three figures stood atop the building. Three figures he recognized far too well.

Elsa. Meilli. And her.

The fire spirit.

The one who had saved Elsa and Meilli a year ago, slipping into the battle at the last moment like an unseen hand moving pieces across a board.

His mind reeled at the sight of them together. They weren’t just here—they were working together.

Subaru’s fingers curled into fists as he strained to hear their conversation.

“Elsa Onee-san, Onii-san said he wan~ted this done fast!” Meilli whined, her arms crossed as she pouted at the older woman.

Elsa, in response, simply smiled and tilted her head, her usual playful tone laced with amusement. “Meilli, I appreciate your atte~mpts to help… but I must inform you that Prized Contractor never actually explained how to use this… thing. ”

She held up the object in question—a crude, makeshift megaphone, looking absurdly out of place in her elegant, black-gloved hands.

What the hell? Subaru thought. Where did they even get a megaphone?!

The third member of their little trio—the fire spirit—let out a sigh, her crimson eyes filled with irritation.

“You’re both hopeless…” she muttered, her voice flat as she turned away, the golden-red of her hair catching in the sunlight, her fiery red dress swirling slightly with her movement.

Meilli huffed, puffing out her cheeks as she jabbed a finger in the spirit’s direction.

“Well, I don’t see you doing anything to help, Firey Onee-san!”

The spirit’s eye twitched at the nickname, but she otherwise remained silent, arms folded as she stared down at the people below.

Subaru barely heard the chatter of the crowd anymore. His mind was already racing ahead, trying to piece together what he was seeing.

Elsa and Meilli being alive was one thing. But them standing here in broad daylight, openly gathering attention, with that spirit working alongside them?

What the hell is going on?

And more importantly—

What do they mean by "Prized Contractor”?

But before he could process that piece of information a ringing noise was heard…

The moment the ringing noise echoed through the plaza, Subaru’s body tensed.

"Ah~ I think I managed to make it work…”

Elsa's voice carried through the makeshift megaphone, her satisfaction evident.

“Finally,” the fire spirit scoffed, folding her arms. “I, for one, was getting tired of waiting for you to become competent…”

Meilli pouted. “Hmph! I bet you didn’t know how to solve it either, Firey Onee-san.”

The spirit immediately stiffened, her face tinging red in slight embarrassment. The temperature in the area noticeably rose, a shimmering heat haze rippling in the air.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” she muttered, turning her head away in a poor attempt to feign indifference.

Elsa, standing between them, did something that sent a shiver down Subaru’s spine.

She smiled.

Not her usual cold, predatory grin.

A real smile.

Warm. Fond. Genuine.

The sight of it twisted something deep inside Subaru—because it meant that somewhere, somehow, this twisted little group meant something to her.

What the hell kind of relationship do these three even have?!

Before he could process it, Elsa cleared her throat and lifted the megaphone to her lips.

“ Greetings, love~ly people of Priestella. ”

Her sultry, teasing voice rang loud over the city.

“I, Elsa Granhiert—”

“ And me! Meilli Portrude! ”

“ ...And me, I guess. ”

The fire spirit’s bored tone chimed in last, as though she wasn’t fully invested in whatever spectacle they were putting on.

Elsa’s eyes glimmered with something almost akin to amusement as she nodded approvingly at her companions.

“Yes… we have come to deliver a message to the people of this city.”

Subaru felt the bottom of his stomach drop.

The warmth in Elsa’s expression faded, her lips curling back into that familiar, razor-sharp grin—one that sent a deep, primal warning through his bones.

“Your city has been chosen to be a test run for a little experiment…~”

She lifted a single, gloved hand, gesturing as if embracing the entire cityscape before her.

“In a few moments, this city will burn to the ground…”

Gasps and murmurs erupted from the crowd. Some citizens instinctively took steps back, others looked around in a panic, their fear palpable.

Elsa continued as though she hadn’t noticed—or perhaps because she had .

“The streets will be fii~lled with the stench of blood, and the flames will dance beautifully against the sky.”

Subaru’s breath hitched.

“ And so… please, d~o try and die with grace. ”

A chilling silence settled over the city.

Then soon after—

Screams.

Chapter Text

"Good job, Onee-san~! You sounded really cool!"

Elsa chuckled, her amusement genuine as she tilted her head slightly as her gloved hand moved with a practiced gentleness as she ruffled Meilli’s hair, her cold, predatory demeanor softening for just a brief moment. “ Thank you, Meilli~ ” she purred.

Then, just as quickly as the warmth had appeared, it vanished. She straightened, stretching her arms before rolling her shoulders, her dark eyes gleaming with anticipation.

“ I’ll be getting my hands dirty now… so do be a good girl and rely on our shining star over here if you need protection. ”

She gestured toward the fire spirit beside her, who scoffed at the implication that she needed to be reminded of such a thing.

“No need to state the obvious,” the spirit huffed, crossing her arms. “I will do my duty. As long as I am here, no harm shall come to her.”

Her words carried a certain weight, a steadfast resolve that hinted at something deeper than mere obligation. But before the atmosphere could grow too serious—

"You don’t need to talk all formally, Fiery Onee-san~" Meilli teased, her voice lilting with mischievous delight.

The fire spirit blinked, turning toward her with a wary look.

“Just say you love me and don’t want to see me get hurt…”

A flicker of heat sparked in the air.

Then, all at once, the temperature around them spiked .

The air shimmered like the haze of a summer road, a wave of warmth radiating outward from the embarrassed spirit as a fierce red flush crept up her face.

“I—That’s not—I never said—!” she stammered, her composure cracking.

Elsa let out a breathy chuckle, covering her mouth with her fingers in amusement as she watched the exchange unfold.

Meilli simply grinned, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Hehe~ Sooo~ cute~” she sang, leaning just a little closer.

The fire spirit turned her head away sharply, fists clenched at her sides as she tried—and failed—to suppress her flustered state.

Subaru, still hidden among the crowd below, could only watch the bizarre scene with mounting horror.

Because somehow… somehow … these three maniacs looked like a real group.

Like friends.

Like family.

And that was more terrifying than anything else.

Elsa after taking one last look at the two would smile, before leaping off the roof of the building…

The wet squelch of flesh being torn apart echoed through the streets, followed immediately by the sickening slap of blood-soaked bodies hitting the cobblestone. The metallic scent of fresh carnage filled the air, turning the once-bustling marketplace into a slaughterhouse.

Elsa exhaled in satisfaction, running her tongue along her lips as she twirled her blades. It was a slow, deliberate motion—one that spoke of enjoyment rather than necessity. The predatory glint in her dark eyes gleamed even brighter as she took in the fear-stricken expressions around her.

“Shit, shit, shit—!”

Subaru's mind was racing, his pulse hammering as he took a step back, forcing himself to steady his breathing. He drew his whip from his hip, gripping the handle tightly as he prepared to face the nightmare before him.

Elsa was cutting through the panicked masses like they were nothing. People ran, screamed, tripped over themselves—none of them had a chance. Her movements were fluid, effortless, as though she were simply dancing through the carnage.

He swallowed hard.

“HEY! Psycho, over here!”

His voice rang out over the chaos, sharp and defiant.

Elsa’s blades halted mid-swing.

For the first time since the bloodbath began, she hesitated.

Slowly, she turned, her gaze locking onto him.

“…Prized Contractor?”

Her voice carried a note of surprise—almost… hope ?

But that moment passed in an instant.

Her expression darkened, the warmth vanishing like a snuffed-out candle.

“…No. You’re just the pale imitation of him.”

And just like that, her blades were in motion again.

Except now, all that deadly, ruthless precision was focused entirely on him.

Subaru barely had time to react as she lunged forward, her daggers flashing. His body moved on instinct, twisting and snapping his whip outward to intercept the first slash. The leather cracked against the steel, knocking it slightly off course—but the second dagger was already coming for his gut.

He sucked in a sharp breath and dove to the side, feeling the blade graze his jacket, barely missing his skin.

He staggered back, raising his whip again.

" Shit! "

She wasn’t playing around.

Elsa grinned.

“Oh my~ You actually dodged… Maybe you’re not completely worthless.”

She tilted her head, her black hair swaying as she stepped forward once more, her expression sharpening into something thrilled .

“Shall we see how long you can last, pale imitation?”

“Hmph, his face irritates me…” The fire spirit’s voice cut through the chaos, her crimson eyes narrowing as she turned her attention fully onto Subaru.

Her delicate fingers twitched as she lifted a hand, flames crackling to life at her fingertips. The heat they emitted was oppressive, distorting the air around her like the shimmering haze of a midsummer blaze.

“His face reminds me of Master. It’s displeasing to see it on another person…”

Subaru barely had a moment to register the words before Meili chimed in, her voice carrying a singsong lilt of mischief.

“Fiery Onee-san, Elsa said for us to stay put until she’s done…”

The spirit huffed, crossing her arms over her chest as if the very idea of obedience was beneath her.

“Hmph, a spirit of my caliber has no need to listen to the commands of others…”

Meili giggled. “So would you ignore me if I asked for something~?”

A pause.

“…!”

The spirit stiffened, the embers swirling around her fingers flickering erratically.

Meili’s smile widened as she swayed playfully on her heels. “I’ll take your silence as a no~.”

“Shut up!”

A deep red flush bloomed across the fire spirit’s fac e as she snapped her head away, refusing to meet Meili’s teasing gaze. With a final huff, she turned back toward the battlefield below, where Elsa and Subaru were locked in combat.

Enough distractions.

With a flick of her wrist, the heat around her surged. Flames condensed into a single, concentrated sphere—small, but pulsating with an overwhelming intensity, as though a fragment of the sun itself had been pulled into existence.

Her voice was calm, precise.

“Al Goa.”

The spell was cast.

The fireball surged forward, a molten comet ripping through the air with blistering speed. It left a trail of searing heat in its wake, warping the air around it.

It was locked onto Subaru—its target, its prey.

And there was no time to dodge.

His body reacted on instinct, his legs tensing as he tried to move—tried to escape—but it was useless. The fireball consumed the space between them in an instant, the sheer heat preceding its impact already unbearable.

Then it struck.

Agony unlike anything he had ever known erupted through his body, his scream ripping through the air before the very act of breathing became impossible. His skin blistered and peeled within seconds, curling away as the relentless heat flayed him alive. The scent of burning flesh filled his nose, sickly and thick, but even that was drowned out as his nerves were seared beyond recognition.

Pain ceased to be pain. It was simply existence.

His muscles shriveled, blackening as the fire gnawed deeper, carving through flesh, through sinew, through bone. His body convulsed—his fingers twitching uselessly, his vision blurred beyond recognition—but his mind still clung to its last, desperate moments of awareness.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to move. But his body no longer obeyed him.

His blood boiled. His eardrums burst. His brain—his very thoughts—began to cook inside his own skull.

The last thing he saw was a silhouette above him, the fire spirit staring down without emotion, without hesitation.

And then, Natsuki Subaru died his first death in the city of Priestella.

Chapter Text

“Ow, ow, ow! Subaru, you’re crushing Betty’s poor hand!”

Beatrice’s sharp cry cut through the suffocating haze of lingering pain in Subaru’s mind. He could still feel the phantom heat licking at his skin, the memory of his body burning away in excruciating detail. His lungs ached, as if still struggling to breathe past the flames, but—

He was here. Back in the cabin

The comforting glow of the library’s lamplight flickered softly, chasing away the suffocating blackness of death. His mind reeled, disoriented, as his grip on Beatrice’s hand tightened involuntarily, as if afraid letting go would send him hurtling back into the inferno.

“Subaru? Are you alright? You look… really distressed,” Emilia’s gentle voice pulled him further from the edge.

He blinked rapidly, forcing his mind to reboot, to function. His skin was intact. His hands weren’t charred bone. The room was cool, safe—nothing was burning. But the sight of Emilia’s worried gaze twisted something deep in his gut.

If he didn’t move now—if he hesitated—they would all die.

“Fine…” he muttered, shaking his head, loosening his grip on Beatrice’s hand before she could complain further. “I’m fine… yeah, I’m fine.”

The words tasted like ash in his mouth.

He exhaled sharply, forcing a lopsided grin onto his face as he clapped his hands together. “But! I just remembered—me and Beako need to be somewhere.”

Emilia blinked. “Somewhere?”

Beatrice looked up at him, frowning. “Subaru, what do you mea—”

“Right, Beako?”

He turned to her, his eyes sharp—desperate. There was no time to explain. He needed her to trust him.

Beatrice’s brows furrowed for a moment, her lips parting in what was sure to be a scolding—but then she paused. Subaru had done this before, given her that look before. The kind that meant something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

She inhaled, then nodded curtly. “Yes. Betty forgot, I suppose…”

Emilia still looked skeptical. “Are you sure? If something’s wrong, you can tell me, Subaru—”

“Nope! Everything’s peachy! We’ll be right back, promise.” He turned on his heel, already pulling Beatrice along with him before she could protest.

There was no time to waste.

Because if they didn’t stop it—if he didn’t stop it—Priestella would burn. Again.

________________________________________________________________________________________

“So what did you need to tell Betty?”

Beatrice’s voice was laced with mild irritation as Subaru dragged her into a dimly lit alleyway, her small hand still clutched in his. The moment they were out of sight, she yanked her arm free, dusting herself off.

Subaru took a deep breath, steadying himself, before looking her straight in the eye.

“Okay, Beako, I don’t have much time to explain, so listen carefully.”

His tone was firm, unwavering—an immediate sign to Beatrice that whatever he was about to say wasn’t one of his usual foolish antics. She crossed her arms but remained silent, waiting.

“Elsa, Meili, and that fire spirit are all in the city,” he continued. “I don’t know how, and I don’t know why yet, but I do know one thing—if I don’t stop them, a lot of people are going to die.”

Beatrice’s expression barely changed, but she raised an eyebrow at his wording.

“I?”

Subaru grimaced, rubbing the back of his head. “Sorry, sorry—I meant we.”

A long sigh left the spirit’s lips, her arms falling back to her sides. Despite the mild exasperation in her tone, there was no hesitation in what she said next.

“Betty’s contractor is such a fool,” she muttered, before extending her small hand toward him, palm up, as if offering something precious. “Come… we have to go save the people, I suppose.”

Subaru stared at her for a moment, his chest tightening—not in fear, but in something warmer.

He took her hand without a second thought.

“Yeah… Let’s go.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________

“—And so… please, d~o try and die with grace.”

Subaru and Beatrice arrived just in time to hear the chilling conclusion of Elsa’s announcement, their eyes widening as they caught sight of the infamous Bowel Hunter mid-leap, descending upon the helpless citizens like a ravenous beast.

There was no time to think—only to act.

Subaru’s grip on Beatrice’s hand tightened. She understood instantly.

“El Shamac!”

The world was swallowed in blackness. A thick, swirling haze of shadow flooded the area, creeping over the cobblestone streets and engulfing Elsa in its grasp. The assassin’s body seized up mid-motion, her unnatural grace betraying her as her muscles refused to move. Her lack of resistance to magic, a flaw she had always relied on her speed to overcome, now left her utterly vulnerable.

A flicker of frustration crossed her face, followed by… amusement?

“Great job, Beako!” Subaru praised, his voice urgent yet grateful.

“You may compliment Betty after you dispose of the murderer, in fact…” Beatrice huffed, though there was no mistaking the satisfaction in her tone.

Subaru wasn’t about to waste the opportunity. He pressed a hand against his chest, summoning the dark power within him.

“Invisible Providence!”

A massive, spectral hand burst forth, unseen by most but felt by all as it raced toward Elsa, its sole intent: to crush and end her once and for all.

On the rooftop, Meili’s eyes widened in panic. She shook the fire spirit beside her, her voice rising in alarm.

“Fiery Onee-san, do something!”

The spirit, who had thus far been watching the scene with an air of detached amusement, scoffed at the girl’s urgency.

“Hmph, I was just about to…”

Raising a delicate hand, she pointed a single finger toward the pair below. Heat rippled through the air around her, distorting reality itself as embers coalesced into a concentrated ball of raw destruction.

“Al Goa.”

A blazing sphere of fire, hotter than anything Subaru had ever encountered, launched from her fingertips, streaking toward him and Beatrice with terrifying precision.

“Subaru!”

Beatrice’s sharp cry cut through the chaos as she shoved him aside, their hands tearing apart mid-cast.

The moment her grip left him, the unseen force of Invisible Providence vanished into nothing, the attack dissipating before it could reach Elsa. The assassin’s fate, which had been sealed mere moments ago, was now left unwritten.

The fireball slammed into the ground where Subaru had once stood, detonating upon impact. A searing wave of heat burst outward, flames consuming everything in their path. The cobblestone beneath cracked and splintered, the very air around them shimmering from the sheer intensity of the inferno.

Elsa’s body, still momentarily stiff from the lingering effects of El Shamac , twitched as the wave of fire raged past her. Though unharmed, the flames licking at the hem of her cloak signaled her awakening. The daze in her eyes cleared, her predatory instincts flaring back to life.

From the rooftop, Meili let out a sigh of relief. “Phew~! That was close…”

She turned, wrapping her arms around the spirit beside her in a sudden embrace.

“Thank you, fiery Onee-san~”

The fire spirit stiffened, her normally composed expression faltering. She hesitated before mumbling, her voice barely above a whisper—

“I-It was nothing… sister…”

The word was spoken so softly it was almost carried away by the heat still distorting the air. Almost.

Meili heard it.

Her grin widened, her arms squeezing the spirit just a little tighter, her eyes shining with something far warmer than flames.

Meanwhile, below—

Subaru gritted his teeth as he scrambled back to his feet, coughing against the acrid smoke that now filled his lungs. His eyes darted to Elsa, who was already standing tall, stretching out her stiff limbs with eerie nonchalance.

Those black eyes met his.

She smiled.

“Now… where were we—”

However, before Elsa could resume her slaughter, another voice cut through the chaos.

“Elder Sister!”

The fiery spirit’s voice rang with urgency from above.

“Master’s close by. That means he wants us to continue with the original plan!”

Her words carried a weight that even Elsa couldn’t ignore. The bowel hunter’s lips twitched in slight amusement, but her grip on her blades loosened just a fraction.

Meanwhile, the spirit moved swiftly, gracefully descending from the rooftop with Meili held effortlessly in one arm like a sack of potatoes.

“Wah—! Fiery Onee-san, be gent—"

THUD.

The moment she landed, she unceremoniously dropped Meili onto the ground.

“Ack!” Meili let out a small yelp as she landed on her rear.

She pouted, rubbing at the sore spot before glaring up at her so-called sister.

“What was that for, Fiery Onee-san?”

The spirit crossed her arms, her fiery hair shimmering like embers in the wind.

“For breaking my boundaries too often.”

“Wah! But I thought you liked it when I hug you…”

The fire spirit stiffened, turning her head away slightly, the faintest hint of color dusting her cheeks.

“Hmph…”

Subaru, despite the dire circumstances, found himself suppressing a smirk. The lethal, nigh-uncontrollable fire spirit… was a tsundere?

Somehow, that made everything both funnier and even more terrifying.

The spirit cleared her throat before returning her focus to the matter at hand.

“It is also of note that Master seems extremely upset at the moment.”

Her golden gaze darkened, sharpening like a blade as she turned toward Subaru.

“And it all started upon the arrival of this filthy little rat.”

Her voice was laced with venom, her expression nothing short of contemptuous.

Subaru felt the weight of her gaze bear down on him like a crushing force.

Despite that, he straightened up, fists clenched.

“Tch… that so?” He forced a grin, though his mind was already running through a hundred different ways to get out of this situation alive.

“Well, I’m flattered, really. But tell me, just who is this ‘Master’ of yours? ‘Cause if he’s got a problem with me, he should just come say it to my face.”

The spirit’s lips curled into a smirk, as if she found his bravado amusing.

“He will...”

The air around them grew hotter.

"And when he does, you’ll wish you had died by my flames instead…"

The fire spirit's eyes burned with unrelenting intensity as she raised her hand once more, another searing orb of fire manifesting in her palm.

"I am still willing to grant you that luxury…"

Just as the blazing sphere reached its peak heat, poised to be unleashed, a sudden voice cut through the air—

"Ice Brand Arts!"

A volley of razor-sharp ice spears shot toward the fire spirit, the frozen projectiles humming with magic as they hurtled toward their target.

The fire spirit barely had time to react before Elsa, with her almost supernatural agility, moved. With an effortless flick of her wrist, her blades flashed, slicing through the ice spears with eerie precision, reducing them to harmless shards that scattered across the battlefield.

She turned her gaze toward the source of the magic, her smirk returning.

"Do be more careful… little star…"

Meili, who had barely managed to react, looked up in slight awe and frustration.

"I-I would've been fine…" she mumbled, pouting.

Elsa simply chuckled at the girl’s stubbornness, though she didn't press the issue further.

But while their exchange continued, another presence made itself known.

"Subaru!"

The familiar, exasperated voice made the young man freeze.

Oh no.

Before he could turn around, a hand seized his ear and pulled, making him yelp.

"Ow, ow, ow!" Subaru flailed slightly as he found himself at the mercy of one very annoyed half-elf.

Emilia stood beside him, her amethyst eyes filled with a mix of disappointment and concern.

"See, I knew you were doing something dangerous without me, and now I see you doing this! "

Her cheeks puffed out in frustration, and she gave his ear another tug for good measure.

"Beako, help!" Subaru whined, looking desperately at his contracted spirit.

Beatrice merely folded her arms, unimpressed.

"Betty agrees with the half-elf to some extent, in fact," she said with a huff.

"What!? Why is everyone turning against me!?" Subaru cried, betrayed.

Emilia let out a sigh before finally releasing his ear, shaking her head.

"Please try and rely on me a little more," she said, her expression softening. "If you keep this up, I’ll start thinking you don’t trust me, you know?"

Subaru winced at that, guilt briefly flashing across his face.

"Bu—"

"No buts."

He hung his head in defeat, grumbling to himself.

Satisfied that she'd gotten her point across, Emilia straightened, her expression shifting from gentle reprimand to determination.

"Now," she said, cracking her knuckles as she turned to face the gathered enemies, "tell me, who do I have to beat?"

She raised her arms, taking on a stance of readiness.

"I'm ready."

Subaru sighed, rubbing his temples. He hated this—hated that Emilia was getting involved, that Beatrice was being dragged into yet another battle, that everything had escalated so quickly. But he needed every advantage he could get.

And so—

Clap… clap… clap.

The slow, deliberate applause cut through the tense air, each clap carrying a weight that sent an unsettling chill down Subaru’s spine.

The flames that had engulfed the battlefield parted, and from within them, a shadowy figure emerged. The rhythmic clapping came from him—a man whose voice was so eerily familiar that Subaru felt his stomach churn.

"Well… isn't this a party?" the figure mused, stepping forward with a casual swagger, a grin of pure arrogance plastered across his face. "Though, I don’t recall inviting myself twice. Eh, whatever… I suppose I am the life of the party, after all."

The voice echoed across the plaza, drawing every eye toward him. Beatrice, Meili, and the fire spirit all turned in shock.

"Onii-san!" Meili cried, her eyes lighting up.

"Prized contractor~!" Elsa purred, her smirk widening ever so slightly.

"Master!" The fire spirit greeted, her flames momentarily dimming in reverence.

The man merely flicked his wrist dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, it’s me. Don’t make a big fuss about it."

He had the same black hair, the same sharp features—but his expression, his presence, was entirely different. There was something cruel in his gaze, something wicked in the way his lips curled into that self-assured smirk. He was dressed in the signature robes of the Witch Cult, the ominous insignia of their order decorating his attire.

Subaru's breath caught in his throat. His entire body locked up as he stared at the impossible sight before him.

"...Subaru?" Emilia's voice was barely a whisper, her violet eyes wide with disbelief. "Why does he…?"

As if hearing her, the newcomer chuckled, tapping a hand to his chest in mock offense.

"Hmm? Oh, sorry, let me introduce myself properly."

His smirk widened, his posture oozing an unnatural amount of self-satisfaction as he looked directly at Subaru.

"I'm the Witch Cult’s Sin Archbishop representing Pride —Natsuki Subaru. It’s your pleasure to meet me."

Chapter Text

"I'm the Witch Cult’s Sin Archbishop representing Pride —Natsuki Subaru. It’s your pleasure to meet me."

After his dramatic declaration, the tension in the air was shattered by the sound of rapid footsteps. Before anyone could react, a small blue-haired girl darted across the battlefield and launched herself into Pride’s arms, her momentum nearly knocking him off balance.

"Onii-san!" Meili cried, clinging onto him with surprising strength. Her voice carried a childish whine, but there was a smug glint in her eyes. "Fire Onee-san was bullying me!"

The fiery spirit recoiled in offense, flames flaring slightly around her form. "Master! The vixen lies! I have done no such thing!"

Meili only clung tighter to Pride , burying her face into his chest. "Liar~! She dropped me!"

The fire spirit scoffed, crossing her arms. " Tch. I should’ve dropped you further…" she muttered under her breath, though the faintest dusting of pink tinged her cheeks.

Pride exhaled through his nose, clearly used to the antics of his so-called ‘allies.’ Without much effort, he adjusted his grip on Meili, lifting her with ease before settling her onto his shoulders. She let out a delighted giggle, kicking her legs slightly as she wiggled into a comfortable position.

"I’ll deal with this later," Pride muttered, giving both Meili and the fire spirit a pointed look. "But for now, how about we proceed with the plan, alright?"

Meili, in stark contrast to her previous complaints, nodded enthusiastically. "Mhm~!" She then held up a single finger and wagged it in the air rhythmically.

A few seconds passed before she grinned mischievously. "Done~ Onee-san, the bad animals will be on their way soon"

The fire spirit’s expression softened just a fraction, and she nodded approvingly.

"That’s a good girl," Pride murmured, ruffling Meili’s hair absentmindedly.

Meanwhile, Subaru, still reeling from everything unfolding before him, clenched his fists. His nails dug into his palms, the sharp pain grounding him in the present. His own voice—his own face —now twisted in arrogance, surrounded by allies who followed him with unshakable loyalty.

"What… the hell is going on?" he whispered under his breath.

Beatrice, standing by his side, didn’t answer. But he could feel the way her grip tightened on his sleeve. Even without words, they both knew the same thing—whatever this was, it was most likely way worse then whatever they were imagining.

This was something else entirely.

Pride turned his attention fully to Subaru, his smirk widening. "Well, you certainly look surprised. What is it? Are you too stunned by my handsome face to come up with a response?"

Subaru’s brow twitched. " No, I’m more so reeling from the fact that I got my identity stolen without realizing…"

Pride feigned a sympathetic pout. "Oh, boo hoo, cry me a river. What’s next? Are you going to complain that I have a better fashion sense than you?"

Subaru scoffed, crossing his arms. "I’d rather die than be caught wearing those robes."

"Really now?" Pride mused, raising an eyebrow. "I’ll tell you right now, the cult has a real sense of style. They might even be able to make your tool over there look presentable ." He gestured lazily towards Beatrice.

Beatrice bristled instantly, her tiny fists tightening at her sides. Subaru’s patience snapped as well.

"Beako isn’t a tool, get it right!" Subaru shot back, stepping slightly in front of the little spirit protectively.

Pride groaned, tilting his head back dramatically. " God, he’s annoying…" Then, as if looking for validation, he glanced up at Meili, still perched on his shoulders. "Meili, am I  annoying?"

Meili, ever the little devil, simply grinned and shook her head. "Nope~ Onii-san is the best! "

Pride gave Subaru a smug look, ruffling Meili’s hair playfully. "See? The people have spoken."

Subaru gritted his teeth, every fiber of his being screaming at him to punch that cocky grin off his own face. It was beyond unsettling, beyond wrong. Standing in front of him was himself—his voice, his mannerisms, his face—but twisted, like a funhouse mirror reflection that had been warped beyond recognition.

And yet… the worst part wasn’t just that Pride existed.

It was that the others followed him.

That fire-spirit, Meili, even Elsa —they all stood behind him, believed in him. Like he was some natural-born leader.

“Now then, Elsa, please bring my Emilia back to me… and please know that every scuff or mark on her skin is a dock on your pay…”

“Oooh~ what a cruel contractor I have…”

So she claimed, but her face told a different story. There was no frustration, no anger—only amusement, maybe even delight. It was as if she enjoyed being talked down to by him.

With a graceful pivot, Elsa vanished in a blur of movement, lunging straight for Emilia. The two clashed instantly, their battle carrying them away from the center of the chaos, leaving Subaru and Beatrice alone with Pride and his followers.

Pride spread his arms dramatically. “See? Everything gets done so easily when I’m here. Why can’t you guys sort things out yourselves?”

He turned his gaze back to Meili, who was still seated comfortably on his shoulders.

“Because Fiery Onee-san gets flustered too easily…” she teased, wiggling her fingers playfully.

“That is not true! Master, the vixen does nothing but tell lies!” the fire-spirit snapped, folding her arms in protest.

Meili giggled and wagged her finger. “Was it a lie when you were a red mess because of a sli~ght compliment…?”

“Y-YOU—!”

“See? Always with the bickering,” Pride sighed, rubbing his temple.

Then, with a wave of his hand, he turned back to the fire-spirit.

“Just hurry up and barbeque them—actually, no, don’t barbeque them. Knock them out for me instead. It’ll be way more convenient so I don’t have to replay this conversation again and again.”

But the last part of his command fell on deaf ears, because the moment he finished speaking—

“Al Goa!”

A roaring inferno erupted forth, the sheer intensity of the heat warping the air itself. The fire surged toward Subaru and Beatrice, its brilliant orange glow swallowing them whole—

—or at least, it should have.

“ DOGU, I SAID NOT TO BARBECU—”

“ EMM! ”

But his scolding trailed off as he realized what had actually happened. His sharp gaze flickered to the space around Subaru and Beatrice, analyzing the strange, unnatural stillness in the air.

“…Well. That’s interesting.”

Subaru took one look at his dumbfounded expression and smirked. “What’s wrong? Is the big bad Archbishop mad he can’t use magic?”

At that, Pride’s initial irritation melted into something else—something far more unsettling. A smirk of his own curled across his lips, and he snapped his fingers.

“Mad? Not even close… ”

A deep, echoing snarling reverberated through the plaza.

Then another.

And another.

Pride chuckled darkly.

“Because my cavalry has already arrived.”

From the alleyways and rooftops, from the shadows between burning buildings, swarms of ma-beasts began to emerge. Twisted, grotesque creatures, their eyes gleamed with primal hunger as they prowled forward, fangs bared, claws scraping against the cobblestone.

Subaru’s stomach churned at the sight. The sheer number of them was overwhelming—far too many to fight, even with Beatrice’s magic.

Meanwhile, Pride, ever the picture of smug satisfaction, gently lifted Meili from his shoulders, setting her down with a casual pat on the head.

“See?” He smirked, rolling his shoulders. “I don’t need magic to ruin someone’s day. Honestly, just my words would probably be enough. You seem pretty fragile…”

Subaru’s fingers twitched. God, this guy is insufferable. Every second he spent talking just added to Subaru’s growing urge to sock him in the face.

But he held himself back.

He needed a way out. A plan.

Because if he didn’t come up with one fast , he and Beatrice were going to get ripped apart.

Across from them, Pride lazily leaned back, hands behind his head as he sighed in amusement.

“Looks like I win.”

And honestly? If nothing changed, he would’ve been right.

If it wasn’t for the outside interference.

BOOM.

The air trembled as something crashed into the plaza with an explosive impact, sending dust and debris flying. The force alone was enough to make even the ma-beasts recoil, momentarily breaking their unified advance.

As the dust settled, a woman came into view.

Wrapped in bandages from head to toe, her entire body bore the evidence of grotesque, self-inflicted wounds. Only a single charred eye peeked out from the bindings, its manic, feverish glow burning with deranged intensity.

Subaru’s breath hitched.

No way…

Pride clicked his tongue loudly.

“Tch.” He groaned, running a hand through his hair before shooting the woman a deadpan glare.

“The hell are you doing here, Sirius?” His tone was sharp, irritated. “I thought we agreed I’d have this place to myself!”

Sirius snapped her head toward Pride, her eye burning with righteous fury.

“Agreed? Agreed!?” Her voice rose in a frenzied screech. “We never agreed on anything! You’re the one who selfishly took this position without consulting anyone!”

She pointed a trembling, accusatory finger at him. Her breathing was ragged, her entire body twitching as though barely holding back an emotional explosion.

“I was even willing to hand this spot over willingly because of our bonds. Out of the thanks I show this world as the Archbishop of wrath… ! ” Her voice softened for just a moment, almost wistful. But then—

She stopped.

Her head jerked unnaturally, as if a string had been pulled.

Her one visible eye zeroed in on Subaru.

“However…” She whispered, voice trembling.

She took a slow, deliberate step forward.

“I’ve realized that my darling Betelgeuse is here. ”

Subaru’s blood froze.

“Wh— what?! ”

Pride groaned loudly , rubbing his temples like he was dealing with the world’s worst migraine.

“Blah, blah, blah. Didn’t I tell you? Betelgeuse died. I confirmed it myself, you clingy bitch.”

The atmosphere shifted.

Sirius’s entire body jerked, seizing up as if an invisible force had pulled at her limbs.

And then—

“SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!”

Her scream pierced the air, raw and unhinged.

“BETELGEUSE WOULD NEVER LEAVE ME IN THIS WORLD ALONE!”

The cobblestone beneath her cracked from the sheer force of her emotion, the air itself vibrating as if reality was beginning to twist under her hysteria.

Subaru barely had time to process what was happening before a suffocating pressure suddenly weighed down on his body, a chilling force that made every breath feel twice as heavy.

Sirius’s twisted, bandaged form twitched erratically, her whole body seething with barely contained rage. Despite the sheer bloodlust pouring off her in suffocating waves, Pride looked utterly unbothered, waving a dismissive hand as if shooing away an annoying insect.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it all before.” He groaned, rolling his eyes. “You’re always on about how Betelgeuse gave you special attention, how he tended to your wounds, how he gave you subtle glances occasionally… Honestly, it’s exhausting. You know how I know?” His gaze sharpened, voice dripping with mockery.

“Because it’s all you ever talk about. It’s insufferable. You should really find a new hobby.”

Sirius twitched violently, her body convulsing at his words. Her fingers clawed into her own arms, squeezing so tightly that her bandages ripped, revealing the raw, burned skin underneath.

“You are NOBODY to call my love worthless!” she shrieked, her voice warping unnaturally as if multiple voices were speaking at once.

Pride, still unimpressed, flicked a piece of dust off his shoulder.

“And you’re nobody to interrupt my fun.” His tone dropped to a lethal boredom, eyes narrowing. “Now shoo.”

The tension between them crackled like static electricity, the sheer hatred in the air almost suffocating.

And then—

Something crashed into the ground between them, sending a shockwave through the plaza.

The body skidded across the cracked cobblestone, finally landing in a heap at Pride’s feet.

Elsa.

Pride quirked an eyebrow, looking down at her crumpled form.

“Wow.” He let out a low whistle. “She really did a number on you, huh? Was it that tough?”

Elsa, ever composed, licked the blood from the corner of her mouth, her violet eyes gleaming with excitement despite her battered state. With slow, deliberate movements, she rose to her feet, brushing off the dust from her shredded cloak.

“Unfortunately,” she murmured, her voice carrying the slightest edge of irritation, “there was a complication.”

Pride narrowed his eyes, suspicion flickering across his face.

“Seriously? How so—”

He didn’t have to finish his sentence.

Because the answer revealed itself.

A man stepped into view.

White-haired. Golden-eyed.

Regulus Corneas.

And in his arms, held bridal style like a fragile treasure—

Emilia.

Subaru’s stomach dropped.

His breath caught in his throat, the sight sending a pulse of sheer, burning rage through his entire body.

But before he could even react—

“REGULUS, YOU WOMANIZING BASTARD!”

Pride’s furious roar cut through the plaza like a blade. His entire body bristled with rage, his calm composure shattering in an instant as he took a threatening step forward.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE!?”

Regulus, ever the picture of arrogance, tilted his head slightly, his golden eyes gleaming with something detached, unbothered. His expression was utterly impassive, as if he was already above this conversation.

“Ha?” His voice carried an air of indignation, as if he was the one being wronged. “Is that how you address someone like me?” His grip on Emilia barely shifted as he sighed dramatically. “I did the simple act of walking here, and yet you dare to assault me with such flippant words? Do you have no tact?”

Pride’s hands twitched, his fingers curling into a tight fist.

“I have no tact when I talk to annoying assholes like you.”

The air between them grew dangerously tense, electric with hostility.

Subaru, still frozen in place, felt the weight of it.

Regulus. Pride. Sirius.

Three monsters.

Three unstable, unpredictable forces—each more dangerous than the last.

And right in the center of it all—

Emilia.

His Emilia.

Subaru’s breath felt like ice in his lungs. He wanted to move, wanted to do something, anything, but he physically couldn’t.

Right now—

His fate was locked between these three monsters.

Regulus, looking as unbothered as ever, adjusted Emilia in his arms, holding her like some sort of prized possession rather than a living person. His golden eyes glowed with detached amusement, as if none of the hostility around him was even worth his attention.

“I will now take this woman as my bride.” His voice was flat, utterly convinced of his own words. “You lot aren’t invited, of course…”

“Huh?”

Pride’s expression twitched, his golden gaze narrowing as a visible vein bulged on his forehead. His fingers curled into a tight fist, his nails digging into his palm.

“…Like hell you’re making it out of here.”

A suffocating wave of heat exploded outward.

Pride’s spirit, sensing the sudden escalation, flared up instinctively, sending waves of scorching air radiating through the plaza. The cobblestone beneath them cracked, glowing a dull red as if the very ground itself was starting to melt.

The oxygen in the air seemed to vanish.

Subaru’s breath hitched. His lungs burned, his vision blurred, and his legs wobbled under the sheer intensity of the heat. It felt like he was standing inside a furnace, his skin prickling as if on the verge of igniting.

“Subaru!”

A small, desperate voice.

Beatrice.

Despite her tiny frame, she immediately rushed to his side, pressing herself against him to keep him upright. She could feel his body shaking, his breathing coming in ragged gasps.

“You mustn’t lose consciousness, I suppose!” Beatrice snapped, her own mana desperately forming a protective barrier to shield him from the worst of the heat. “Hold on, just a little longer…!”

But even Beatrice was struggling.

The air was so hot, so thin, it was almost unbearable.

And yet—

The three Archbishops seemed completely unfazed.

Regulus barely even blinked, his golden gaze shifting toward Pride with the slightest hint of irritation. “Is this really necessary?” He let out a small, bored sigh. “Honestly, it’s always the loud ones who get the most worked up over nothing…”

Sirius, on the other hand, was convulsing madly, her burned, bandaged face twisting in absolute at the sight of Pride’s anger. “What right do you have to be angry?” She placed both hands over her chest, writhing as if she could physically feel the emotions, the anger in the air. “Those feelings of wrath belong to me!”

Pride, now completely done, ground his teeth.

“Shut up.”

And just like that—

All three of them moved at once.

The world exploded into motion.

A burst of fire, a streak of gold, a flash of madness—

Subaru could barely comprehend what was happening before the last remnants of his consciousness slipped away.

The last thing he saw—

Was three Archbishops, clashing in a storm of pure destruction.

And then—

Darkness.

Chapter Text

“Wake up, Nyatsuki-kun…”

A voice, soft yet teasing, laced with concern yet still carrying that unmistakable playful edge, pulled Subaru from the depths of unconsciousness.

His eyes fluttered open, greeted by the sight of a familiar cat-eared knight staring down at him. The flickering light of a nearby lantern illuminated Ferris’s worried expression, their ears twitching as they studied him closely. The warm, musky scent of aged wood and dust filled his nose, hinting that they were in some kind of makeshift shelter—a basement, perhaps? A storage room? He wasn’t sure.

“You were knocked out for a long while, Nyatsuki-kun…” Ferris murmured, voice dropping into something softer. “Your little spirit spent all her time trying to protect you, you know?”

Subaru blinked in confusion before immediately turning his head—

And sure enough, there she was.

Beatrice, his ever-reliable partner, was clinging tightly to his side, her small form rising and falling with slow, exhausted breaths. Her usual doll-like face was pale, her brows furrowed even in sleep. Wisps of faint, flickering mana still clung to her, proof of how much she had exerted herself just keeping him alive.

Subaru clenched his fists.

He hated this—hated waking up to find Beatrice drained because of him.

With a deep breath, he forced himself to focus. There was no time to wallow. This situation needed his undivided attention.

“What… happened?” His voice was hoarse, his throat dry like sandpaper. He swallowed thickly before forcing the next words out. “How is everyone else? Emili—”

“One thing at a time, Nyatsuki-kun…”

Ferris sighed, their tail flicking in irritation before they leaned back, arms crossed.

“The Witch Cult appeared out of nowhere.” Their voice was laced with quiet frustration, ears flattening slightly. “I’m sure you had your own experience with them, no?”

Subaru gave a begrudging nod, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

“Yeah… I ran into three.” His voice darkened as the memories resurfaced. “Wrath, Greed… and Pride.”

The second he uttered that last name, Ferris’s ears perked, and their entire expression shifted.

“Nyatsuki-kun…” They blinked, confusion written all over their face. “Did the smoke reach your brain or something?” Their tail flicked again, this time in clear disbelief. “There’s no Archbishop of Pride.”

Subaru’s entire body stiffened.

His mind immediately went into overdrive.

No Archbishop of Pride? Then who the hell had he been fighting?

“Well, clearly there was,” Subaru muttered, gripping the fabric of his sleeve tightly. His thoughts raced, trying to piece together what this could mean. “I didn’t just hallucinate a bastard with an overblown ego and an entire army of Ma Beasts.”

Ferris frowned, eyes narrowing slightly.

“…Describe him.”

Subaru hesitated for only a second before answering.

“Cocky as hell, ran his mouth like he was some gift to the world, had this insufferable smug attitude—”

Ferris gave him a deadpan stare.

“That’s not a description, Nyatsuki-kun. That’s just a personality assessment.”

“Yeah, well, it’s the most important detail.”

Ferris let out an exaggerated sigh before motioning for him to continue.

Subaru inhaled deeply, forcing himself to be more specific.

“The bastard looked exactly like me… It made the whole situation way more infuriating than it needed to be…”

Ferris’s ears twitched slightly at his words, but their face remained skeptical.

“Exactly like you?”

“Yup. Voice, hair, everything. Except ten times more annoying and way less charismatic…”

Before Ferris could respond, a new voice suddenly chimed in.

It wasn’t Ferris. It wasn’t Beatrice.

It was someone else.

Subaru’s body tensed immediately. The voice was calm but carried a weight that made it impossible to ignore. He couldn’t immediately pinpoint where it was coming from, but it was definitely inside the same room.

Ferris, however, didn’t look the least bit startled. Instead, they let out an exasperated sigh before reaching into their clothes and pulling out a small, polished mirror.

The moment Subaru glanced into its reflection, his breath caught in his throat.

Because in the mirror, staring back at him from an entirely different location, was none other than Crusch Karsten.

Her gaze was sharp, her green eyes filled with their usual unwavering resolve. Despite the dim lighting in whatever space she was in, she carried herself with the same unshakable authority as always.

“Subaru-sama,” she addressed him, her voice cool and steady, “are you absolutely positive that the person you saw claimed to be the Archbishop of Pride?”

Subaru exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. “That’s exactly how he introduced himself…”

A short silence.

Crusch remained unreadable for a moment before finally responding.

“…Then there is no point in debating this any further.” Her tone was decisive, absolute. “That makes a confirmed four Archbishops in the city.”

“What—Four!?” Subaru almost shouted, his voice breaking slightly from sheer disbelief.

Ferris groaned, rubbing their temples. “Yeah… The broadcast has been sending these lovely little messages all day, keeping us all updated. It’s really grating on our ears…”

Subaru felt his stomach twist.

A broadcast? That meant the Witch Cult was actively communicating their presence to everyone in the city. And if four Archbishops were confirmed…

That meant things were even worse than he thought.

Crusch nodded over the mirror, her expression serious.

“Yes. Our current plan is to storm the center of the city and take back control of the broadcasting system. From there, we will be able to regroup and coordinate our efforts in handling the remaining Archbishops.”

Subaru’s mind immediately raced toward the obvious solution.

"Where’s Reinhard?"

The Sword Saint could end this crisis in an instant. There was no way the Witch Cult could withstand Reinhard van Astrea.

But before he could even voice the thought, Ferris cut him off with a tired sigh.

“We cyant find him, Nyatsuki-kun…” Their tail flicked, irritation creeping into their tone. “For now, we gotta make do without him…”

Damn it.

Subaru clenched his fists. The thought of facing this hell without Reinhard was enough to make his skin crawl. But if Reinhard wasn’t here… then they had no choice but to move forward without him.

Taking a deep breath, Subaru forced himself to stand.

The action immediately roused Beatrice, who blinked blearily before her eyes snapped fully open.

The moment she saw him upright, her entire expression twisted into pure distress.

“Subaru!”

Before he could even react, the little spirit threw herself into his arms, clinging to him tightly.

“Never worry Betty like that, idiot contractor, idiot… I suppose.” Her voice was muffled against his chest, but he could still hear the trembling underneath it.

His heart clenched.

He gently rested a hand on her head, his voice softer now.

“…Sorry, Beako.”

Then, after a pause, Ferris’ golden eyes flickered back to Subaru, their tone more serious.

“Are you sure you want to go, Nyatsuki-kun? We’ll understand if you want to focus on saving Emilia first.”

Subaru froze at the mention of her name.

The image of Regulus holding Emilia in his arms flashed through his mind, making his stomach churn.

He wanted nothing more than to rush in and get her back.

But…

He knew better.

Charging in blindly wouldn’t help her. He was powerless on his own.

“…Trust me, I want to.” Subaru’s voice was steady, but there was an undeniable weight behind his words. “But I know enough to realize… I can’t do it alone.”

A slow smile spread across Crusch’s lips in the mirror.

“Good.”

She nodded, her expression filled with quiet approval.

“Then let’s begin.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The stench of smoke, blood, and charred rubble lingered in the air, a constant reminder of the chaos that had consumed the city. The bar, though mostly intact, bore the marks of devastation—shattered windows, overturned tables, and a long, jagged crack running through the wooden floorboards.

Pride, lounging comfortably in a rickety old chair, exhaled slowly, one leg propped lazily over the other.

He was relaxed, but his mind was anything but.

“And that’s what they’re most likely going to do…” he murmured as he stared at the dimly flickering lantern above.

His voice carried no urgency, no concern. If anything, he almost sounded amused.

Across from him, perched atop a table, Meili’s olive green eyes widened in awe.

“Wow! Onii-san is super smart!”

A pleased smirk crossed Pride’s lips as he reached over and ruffled the little girl’s hair, making her giggle.

“That I am.” His voice dripped with arrogant satisfaction. “Didn’t I promise? Stay with your Onii-san, and the world will be ours…”

Then, flashing a playful smirk, he added, “Well, it’ll be mine. But you can be right next to me as I take it.”

Meili nodded enthusiastically, swinging her legs back and forth like an excited child.

Just then, a familiar presence hesitantly stepped into view.

A glowing ember danced through the dim lighting, heralding the arrival of his fire spirit. The golden-red-haired entity shifted awkwardly, its form flickering between material and ethereal, as if hesitating to solidify completely.

Then, after a long moment of silence, the spirit finally spoke.

“Master… may I… also have a head pat?”

A pause.

Pride turned his head slowly, raising an eyebrow in undisguised disbelief.

“…Really?”

The spirit nodded, looking downward as if embarrassed by the request.

A deep, exaggerated sigh escaped Pride’s lips, but nonetheless, he lifted his free hand and gently placed it atop the spirit’s warm, silky hair.

As he ruffled it, he could feel the way the spirit relaxed beneath his touch, leaning into it slightly—like a cat savoring affection.

His expression softened for the briefest moment.

A rare, unguarded moment of vulnerability.

His fingers unconsciously tightened ever so slightly, his mind drifting back to that moment.

That one moment where he sacrificed them all.

Where they died for him.

Yet, even as the blood pooled around them… even as their lives slipped away…

They all smiled while doing it.

Before his thoughts could spiral further, a silken, teasing voice purred directly into his ear.

“Fu fu~ Aren’t you just adorable…”

A shadow loomed behind him.

Elsa.

She leaned in close, her breath brushing against his skin, her dagger-like nails idly tracing along his shoulder.

Pride didn’t even blink.

Instead, he slowly turned his head toward her, his expression utterly unimpressed.

“…What did I say about extended contact?”

Elsa simply smiled, tilting her head in mock innocence.

“That you’d chop my fingers off and feed them to the ma-beasts if I did it~?”

Her lips curled into a wicked grin.

“You should know by now—that’s hardly a threat.”

She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper.

“And besides…” Her black, soulless eyes gleamed with genuine delight. “I like it when you threaten me, prized contractor.”

Pride scoffed, shaking his head.

“Freak.”

Elsa laughed softly, draping herself over the back of his chair like a lazy cat.

Despite his sharp words, she stayed exactly where she was.

The tension lingered—an ever-present hum beneath the surface.

The warm glow of embers flickered across the cracked walls of the ruined bar, casting long shadows as Pride sat with an expression of exhausted indifference. The once-grand structure had long since lost its charm—splintered wood, shattered glass, and the faint scent of burnt alcohol lingering in the air. It was an unworthy throne for someone of his caliber, yet here he was, tolerating the company of an assassin, a fire spirit, and a troublesome little sister figure who had no regard for personal boundaries.

And now, Meili was up to something.

“Hey, Onii-san…”

Pride sighed, swirling the last remnants of his drink before lazily glancing in her direction.

“What is it, Meili?”

The girl grinned and gestured for him to come closer.

His instincts screamed at him not to, but for some incomprehensible reason, he indulged her request—leaning in slightly.

The instant regret was palpable.

Before he could react, Meili’s small hands reached up and began to gently pat his head.

Pride froze.

The room fell into complete silence.

Elsa raised an amused eyebrow.

The fire-spirit’s eyes widened slightly.

Meili, looking entirely too smug, continued her assault on his dignity.

“Hah…” she hummed thoughtfully. “Onii-san’s hair is really soft.”

Pride’s eye twitched.

Before he could slap her hand away, Meili suddenly turned to his fire-spirit.

“Fiery Onee-san, come over here!” she chirped. “Onii-san’s hair is so~ soft!”

The fire-spirit, who had remained largely composed up until now, visibly perked up at the offer. Her golden-red eyes sparkled with excitement as she hesitated for only a moment—before eagerly approaching.

“No.”

The spirit ignored him and gently placed her hands on his head, mimicking Meili’s movements.

Pride gritted his teeth.

“I’m never listening to either of you ever again.”

“Ehehe~ Onii-san’s getting mad,” Meili giggled, unbothered.

The absolute audacity of this child.

Pride was about to shove them both away when Meili suddenly turned toward Elsa.

“Onee-san, you can do it as well!”

The mood in the room shifted.

The assassin’s black eyes gleamed, her lips curling into an amused smirk.

“Oh?” Elsa purred, tapping a delicate finger against her cheek.

Pride’s voice dropped into something far colder.

“If she touches my hair,” he said flatly, “she won’t have fingers to grab anything with by the time the sun rises tomorrow.”

Meili puffed her cheeks in faux disappointment.

“Onii-san is so~ cruel to Onee-san.”

“No, your sister is a real frea– Ow!”

Pride flinched slightly as Meili pinched his cheek—hard enough to sting, but not enough to be a real injury.

His sharp glare snapped toward her immediately.

“What was that for?” he demanded.

“For insulting Onee-san.”

Elsa, who had been watching with silent amusement, chuckled slightly at the small act of rebellion.

Pride immediately redirected his glare toward her now.

She simply tilted her head in mock innocence.

Pride exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple as if physically in pain.

He had conquered cities.
He had burned kingdoms to the ground.
He had defied death itself.

Yet here he was—being bullied by a child, a spirit, and a psychotic assassin.

And yet… he found himself not regretting the moment at all.

Maybe—just maybe—he slightly enjoyed their company.

Not that he’d ever admit it. He’d rather combust on the spot than give them the satisfaction of knowing they brought him even a sliver of comfort.

“Alright, alright,” Pride muttered, brushing them off with exaggerated annoyance. “That’s enough messing around, all of you.”

He stood, straightening his coat with a flourish and motioned toward the open hole in the bar’s wall, where the charred remains of the city stretched endlessly into the horizon.

“We’ve got work to do,” he said, his golden eyes gleaming with a simmering anticipation. “We need to make a really big entrance, you know?”

The flames in his irises flickered, reflecting a vision only he could see—a city wreathed in fire, its screams muffled beneath the thunderous weight of something far greater.

Their mismatched footsteps echoed across the crumbled stone as they marched out, one by one, through the wrecked streets. Ash clung to the wind, and the faint sound of distant alarms drifted through the ruins like dying whispers.

And yet, despite the chaos, despite the blood that would inevitably be spilled, they walked as one—not as individuals… but as something dangerously close to a family.

A giant, dysfunctional, murder-happy, fire-slinging, chaos-bringing family.

And as the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting the city in a blood-orange glow, Pride gave one last look to the burning skyline and whispered under his breath:

“Let’s show them what the word ‘despair’ really means.”

Then, with a grin—

They began their march.
Their divine reckoning.

And nothing…
Nothing would ever be the same.

Chapter Text

Subaru had made it. Somehow—by sheer willpower, dumb luck, and a trail of chaos behind him—he’d clawed his way to the upper levels of city hall.

They had fought through a corrupted dragon loosed upon the district just to get here

And yet… what they were rewarded with was much worse

Crusch lay crumpled on the ground, unconscious and bloodied—her once-pristine armor cracked in several places. Her body was half-draped across the marble floor like a discarded puppet, and standing over her was a nightmare wrapped in sensual flesh.

The Archbishop of Lust.

Capella Emerada Lugnica.

She wore her beauty like a weapon—curves sculpted to perfection, skin that shimmered like porcelain under the dim emergency lights. But her smile was twisted, and her crmsion eyes burned with a grotesque hunger.

“Hm~?” she hummed, tracing a long finger down her thigh as she tilted her head toward Subaru. “What’s wrong? Are my legs so beautiful that you can’t stop staring~? Don’t feel bad. Most men can’t look away~.”

Subaru stood frozen, fists clenched and teeth grinding. Every instinct told him to rush her, to wipe that smirk off her face. But he didn’t move—not yet.

Then, Capella's gaze sharpened. She took a step closer, squinting.

“…You.”

Her tone dropped like a guillotine. The playfulness was gone.

Subaru blinked. “What?”

“You impudent little meat bag,” she snarled, taking a few sharp strides toward him, heels clacking against the stone. “You have the gall to show up in front of me like this?! After everything you did to this lovely lady?” She placed a hand dramatically over her chest.

What?

Subaru’s brain stalled. Lady? Herself? What the hell is she talking about?

Then her tone turned venomous. “And what’s this? You’ve turned traitor now? How deliciously pathetic. Pandora is going to have so much to say about this…”

Pandora…?

Who? Subaru thought, heart racing. Then it hit him.

She thinks I’m him.
She thinks I’m Pride.

A wave of nausea hit him like a truck. The idea of being mistaken for that smug bastard made his skin crawl—but if she truly believed it, then maybe… maybe he could use that.

He inhaled slowly, forcing down his disgust, and slipped into the mask.

A cocky grin. A slouch in his shoulders. Just enough arrogance in his tone to mimic Pride’s poisonously confident demeanor.

“Oh please,” he said, striding forward casually, “do you really think I’d ever team up with trash like this? Come on. They’ve got a guy out there running around with my face. You don’t think I’d jump on the chance to replace him and stir the pot a little?”

Capella’s eyes narrowed. Her teeth clenched as her form twitched with anger.

“Why…” she whispered, “do you speak so casually to me, meat scrap?”

Shit. Okay, clearly this version of "him" didn’t have the best relationship with her.

Come to think of it… none of the Archbishops liked each other, did they? Their infighting, the constant ego clashes—it was a weakness. One he could use.

Still, he had to walk this tightrope carefully.

Subaru lifted a hand in mock surrender, flashing a half-smile. “Oh relax. I’m not here to pick a fight. Just figured I’d handle the vermin problem downstairs and give you some alone time with your little doll there,” he said, gesturing lazily at Crusch.

Capella’s expression didn’t soften, but it shifted—her anger melting into something else entirely. Something sharper. Her golden eyes narrowed, taking him in inch by inch, like a serpent measuring the warmth of its prey before striking. Her lip curled slightly in amusement as she took a slow step forward.

Then—

“You’re truly an idiot for thinking you could fool me, meat scrap.”

Subaru’s breath hitched. His shoulders locked up instinctively, a cold sweat crawling down his spine.

Shit. Shit. Shit—

Capella’s sneer deepened. She tilted her head as her voice grew darker, silkier, coated in contempt.

“That bastard… this lovely lady could never truly read him. Not once. He was unsettling in the purest sense—every time he smiled, every glance, every word he uttered made my skin crawl. He made my instincts flare like wildfire. And I was right to fear him.”

Her teeth clenched audibly, and something in her body cracked—bones shifting under her skin. Her calm dissolved like paper in flame.

“That man took my children from me…”

The temperature in the room dropped.

Capella's form started to writhe, contorting and bubbling like a pot left too long over an open flame. Her perfect skin began to blister and stretch. A thousand grotesque limbs sprouted and vanished again in a single breath. Wings, tails, claws—every misshapen abomination flared across her body before she collapsed back into her usual, sultry form.

But the damage was done. The very marble beneath her heels had blackened and cracked, as if recoiling in terror.

“AND THIS LOVELY LADY WAS UNABLE TO DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT!”

She screamed, her voice distorting, echoing unnaturally off the tall chamber walls. Subaru flinched. His instincts screamed at him to run, but his legs refused to move.

She stood there for a moment, trembling. And then, with a slow inhale and a shudder, she recomposed herself—drawing in the madness like a tide pulling back from the shore.

When she turned her eyes back on him, they were colder. Crueler.

“However…” she said smoothly, “ you … are like an open book.”

Her body shimmered. A soft, pale light pulsed around her, and in the blink of an eye, the grotesque seductress was gone.

In her place stood Emilia.

The realness of it made Subaru’s heart seize. Her soft, silver hair flowed gently over her shoulders. Her violet eyes sparkled with that same tenderness that had pulled him from the depths of despair so many times. Even her voice, when she spoke, was exactly hers.

“Silver hair. Sweet. Kind,” she said, stepping forward, each word laced with venom under its sugar coating. “That’s what you like, isn’t it?”

Her tone turned mocking. Emilia’s features smiled with Capella’s malice.

“A pretty little half-elf girl to cling to, to worship, to make you feel needed. Is that what gives your pathetic life meaning, meat scrap?”

Subaru’s fists trembled at his sides. His breathing quickened, fury trying to rise up and meet the fear that coiled like ice in his chest.

Capella leaned in close, nose to nose with him, and whispered with a dagger’s gentleness.

“That man would never let me figure him out. Never. And that’s how I know you’re an imposter.”

She stepped back with a satisfied look. Her form shimmered again, shedding Emilia’s features like a snake's skin. Her usual form returned—just as elegant, just as sickening.

“I’ll give you credit, though,” she said, licking a drop of blood off one of her nails, “for trying to walk in his shadow. But a rat in a wolf’s clothing is still a rat.”

Subaru said nothing, but his teeth were clenched so hard it felt like they might crack.
Think, damn it. Think.

He’d been exposed, sure—but she hadn’t attacked yet. Which meant she wanted to talk. Toy with him. That was her would be flaw—pride, ironically.

And maybe… just maybe… that meant he still had time.

“Hm~ are you trying to think of a way to escape this lovely lady?” Capella purred, tilting her head, her tone teasing.

But her amusement quickly spiraled into something more feral. Her shoulders shook, and a sharp, twisted giggle bubbled up from her throat. That giggle soon mutated into full-blown manic laughter, echoing across the city hall’s shattered interior like nails against glass.

“Oh, you truly aren’t him,” she hissed between ragged breaths of laughter. “That bastard wouldn’t be afraid of me in the slightest… he wouldn’t flinch, wouldn’t break eye contact, wouldn’t even blink . He had the gall to treat me like I was a nuisance!”

Her laughter stopped abruptly.

She stared at Subaru with such intensity it felt like her gaze could peel his skin back.

Then slowly, like a hand gliding across silk, she reached out toward him—her long, glistening claws mere inches from his face.

“However…” she whispered, her eyes glowing with a cruel light, “you do look enough like him. So this lovely lady has decided—she will take all the pain that he has delivered unto me, and gift it to you . Be grateful, meat scrap. This lovely lady will give you the honor of feeling her touch—”

Before her claws could graze Subaru’s cheek, a sharp, shrill sound rang out.

Capella stiffened, scowling as a glimmering mirror materialized from the folds of her dress. She seized it with clear irritation, her talons tightening around the frame until it groaned under pressure.

“What is it!” she snapped into the mirror.

Subaru strained his ears. The voice on the other end was distorted and faint—but familiar.

Pride.

Though the words weren’t fully audible, his tone was calm. Mocking. The kind of voice that knew it held control over the conversation—and was savoring every second of it.

Capella’s entire posture shifted. Her expression contorted like she'd bitten into something foul. Her wings twitched violently behind her, and her nails tapped furiously against the mirror's surface like she was holding herself back from shattering it already.

“How dare you!” she barked. “Do you think you can take this responsibility so readily from this lovely lady?!”

The voice on the other end replied—still unfazed.

Capella’s lips curled, a hiss breaking free. She glanced down at her side, where her black, velvet-bound gospel was. Reluctantly, she opened it.

Her eyes scanned the pages quickly.

And then narrowed in fury.

“You worthless meat scrap! ” she shrieked—not at Subaru, but into the mirror, venom lacing every syllable.

With a furious scream, she hurled the mirror against the far wall. It shattered on impact, splinters of glass scattering across the marble floor like stardust.

Without another word, she turned from Subaru. Her body twisted violently as a pair of massive, leathery wings erupted from her back. They beat the air once—twice—before she launched herself into the sky through the shattered ceiling above, vanishing into the storm clouds without so much as a backward glance.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Subaru stood there, heart pounding in his chest like war drums. The only sound was his own breathing—sharp, uneven. He took a shaky step forward, glancing at the shards of the mirror, then back at the open sky where Capella had disappeared.

He didn’t know what Pride had said, but whatever it was… it had saved his life.

For now.

But even as relief settled in, a new chill slid down his spine.

Capella had called him “worthless.” Not out of disdain—but disappointment. Whatever she saw in that gospel, whatever her role had been, it had changed. Someone had rewritten the playbook.

And Pride was holding the pen.

“Damn it,” Subaru whispered. “Just what the hell are you planning…?”

From behind, a weak groan escaped Crusch’s lips as she began to stir. Subaru snapped out of it and rushed to her side, brushing debris away and supporting her head.

“No time for questions,” he murmured. “We need to regroup before something worse shows up.”

Because Capella leaving like that? That wasn’t mercy.

That was a shift in the game.

And the next move might be a checkmate.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Pride tossed the mirror aside without a second thought. It hit the ground with a dull clink , cracking into uneven shards that reflected his face back in fragmented pieces.

“That’ll teach her for talking back to me,” he muttered, a sneer curling on his lips. “Bitch.”

Meili blinked, clearly not expecting such blunt hostility. She tugged at the edge of his sleeve.

“Onii-san, why did you do that?” she asked, tilting her head with childlike curiosity.

“Hm?” He barely glanced at her, as if surprised by the question.

“Did calling mothe—”

His eyes slid toward her, sharp and cold. “I told you not to call her that.”

she paused, catching her mistake. “I mean, did calling bitch … really accomplish anything?”

Meili cleared her throat awkwardly. “I mean… she didn’t really do anything bad this time, right?”

“Nope,” Pride admitted easily, not missing a beat. “She was just bad-mouthing me earlier, and I don't let that slide. Ever. Especially not from her .”

He dusted off his coat, eyes flicking to the ruined cityscape stretching out before them, the top of city hall barely visible now in the distance. His voice regained its calm, arrogant smoothness. “Besides, I think we’ll make much better use of the central district, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Of course!” the fire-spirit chirped from behind, her golden-red hair flickering like candlelight. “I do not doubt for a second Master’s ability to think ahead.”

Pride grinned at her praise, basking in it like a cat in the sun. “That’s more like it.”

“Hmm… I don’t know…” Meili piped up again, her tone mischievous now. “Remember that one time Onii-san got us trapped in the forest for hours because he forgot a map?”

“That was one time,” he said flatly, not missing a beat.

Meili smirked. “And the next day you swore ‘I don’t need maps, I am the map,’ and then walked us in a circle for four hours straight.”

“Those trees looked the same! ” he snapped defensively.

The fire-spirit giggled, covering her mouth politely. “I remember that… You tripped over the same root three times.”

“I was tired, and it was dark!” Pride scowled, crossing his arms. “And besides, I was planning. Strategizing.”

Meili leaned in with a teasing smile. “Strategizing how to beat up a tree?”

He looked away with a grunt, muttering something about “traitors” under his breath.

Despite the banter, there was a softness to the moment—brief, but undeniable. The three of them walked forward, laughter fading into silence as the ruined city opened up beneath their feet like a canvas ready to be painted in blood and flame.

Pride’s eyes narrowed as he reached the edge of the crumbling rooftop and looked down at the central square.

“In any case,” he murmured, voice once again dipping into cold resolve, “it’s time we reminded the world who runs things around here.”

Meili smiled, clasping her hands behind her back.

The fire-spirit hovered close, her flames intensifying ever so slightly.

All while Elsa watched their banter with a smile playing on her lips. 

And so, side by side, they began their descent.

A Archbishop, a child, an assassin, and a flame.

An unnatural little family… ready to burn it all down.

Chapter Text

“Subaru!”

A voice rang out through the wreckage of the center, echoing against the cracked marble and shattered windows. He barely had time to turn before a blur of blonde barreled into him with surprising strength for such a small frame.

“Beako…” he murmured, catching her just before they both lost their balance.

“Never scare Betty like that again, in fact!” she snapped, her usual sternness tinged with a rare undertone of panic.

“I know… I know…” he muttered, resting a hand gently on her head as she clung to him. The relief in her eyes mirrored his own, though neither of them said it aloud.

Their moment of quiet was broken by the sound of boots scraping against broken stone.

“Subaru.”

He looked up to see Julius staggering forward. His once-immaculate knightly appearance had all but collapsed—his tunic was torn, dust clung to his once-shining armor, and his hair hung loose and damp with sweat. A cut traced down his cheek, drying crimson against pallid skin.

“I’m glad to see you’re unharmed,” Julius said, his voice tired but genuine.

Subaru managed a crooked grin. “Yeah, and I’m glad to see your prissy look finally got muddled up. You actually look like a guy who fights.”

Julius exhaled a short laugh, one hand resting wearily on his sword's pommel. “You always know how to twist a compliment into a jab.”

“Is everything alright?” Julius asked, shifting back to the matter at hand.

“Largely, yeah… but Crusch got banged up pretty bad. She took the brunt of Lust’s attention. Ferris is with her now, but knowing him… he’ll tear me a new one once she’s stable.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Julius said with a nod.

“So… do we have a next move?” Subaru asked, tension returning to his shoulders as he glanced back the way he came. The battle outside still raged in the distance, rumbling like a storm on the edge of breaking.

Julius frowned, rubbing his chin. “From what I’ve gathered, Reinhard is still busy holding off the ma-beast horde that breached the city gates. He’s pushing them back alone, but there’s no telling how long that will last. As for the Archbishops… they’re still running rampant.”

His gaze grew more serious. “But we haven’t seen any sign of that ‘Pride’ you mentioned—”

“Huh? Are you talking about me without me being there?”

A voice sliced through the air like a whip—casual, amused, and deeply unsettling.

Subaru and Julius both turned sharply.

“That’s awful rude,” the voice continued, each word dripping with arrogance and amusement. “Real immature of you guys.”

From the shadows near the cracked stairwell, a figure emerged. His cloak fluttered in the wind wafting through the broken walls, and his silver eyes—eyes identical to Subaru’s—gleamed with unnatural amusement.

Pride.

He walked like he owned the world, his arm swinging casually at his side. His appearance was pristine, not a scratch on him. He looked completely out of place amidst the ruin—too clean, too smug, too confident.

Subaru’s breath caught in his throat. Beatrice instinctively moved in front of him, her mana flaring just slightly.

Julius reached for his sword.

Pride held up a hand mockingly. “Is that how you greet a guest? I even showed up on time.”

Subaru forced himself to take a step forward. “Why the hell are you here?”

“To see how much you’ve screwed up pretending to be me,” Pride said, flashing that same smirk—the one Subaru had seen mirrored in nightmares. That same smug, hollow smile—the expression of someone who felt nothing and yet delighted in everything that broke.

“Also,” he added, lazily kicking a chunk of rubble aside with the heel of his boot, “this place? It’s mine now. So I figured I’d come take a look before we burn it down.”

“Huh?” Meili piped up, tilting her head. “We’re burning it down right away, Onii-san? I don't want to sit down in one of those crummy old bars again!” She gave a small pout, clearly disappointed.

Elsa, standing behind her like a shadow draped in silk and blood, chuckled softly and placed a hand on Meili’s shoulder. “If you want,” she purred, “you can ride around on my shoulders later.”

Meili's eyes sparkled like a kid promised a trip to the candy store. “Really, Onee-san!?”

Elsa nodded, her smile widening as she tousled the younger girl’s hair with an almost disturbingly gentle touch for someone so infamous.

Behind them, the fire spirit flared subtly, her flames dimming slightly as she turned away with a huff, trying hard not to show the jealousy creeping into her expression.

But Elsa noticed.

“And you as well, my little star~,” she added with a wink, her words sending a blush up the spirit’s cheeks and an unmistakable surge of warmth through the air around her.

Pride clapped his hands once, the sound sharp and commanding. “Alright, alright. That’s enough messing around for one day. How about we go and clear out our new workbench?”

Subaru stepped forward, jaw clenched tight, voice trembling with frustration. “Do you seriously think you’ll take it from us that easi—”

Pride raised a hand and casually mimed zipping a mouth shut, the motion slow and taunting.

“Please shut up. I’m not in the mood to hear a self-righteous rant. Especially from someone who looks and sounds like me.” His voice had dropped into something colder, more venomous, as if just being near Subaru offended his very existence.

Subaru's fists tightened at his sides. God, this guy was unbearable. A walking mirror of everything twisted and awful—made worse by how casually he wore his cruelty.

Pride gave a little sigh and turned to Elsa. “Elsa, could you please get rid of them? I’m really not in the mood. And I’m pretty sure Dogu is tired.”

Elsa’s eyes lit up with an almost childlike glee. “Of course~”

She moved like a blur, her blade flashing in the dim light of the broken hall. The sharp sound of steel cutting air echoed out—aimed directly at Julius.

But before it could reach him, a second blade intercepted the strike with a metallic clang , followed by a gust of force as both warriors skidded slightly on the cracked floor.

Wilhelm had arrived, his expression unreadable, but his eyes—sharp and cold—were locked onto Elsa.

His stance was firm, grounded, like a centuries-old oak that would not fall no matter the storm. His sword, bathed in the pale light filtering through the shattered ceiling, hummed faintly with anticipation.

“Ah… you’re an unexpected player here,” Elsa said, tilting her head, her blade trailing behind her like a tail. “Would you mind if I dyed the floor in your blood~?”

Wilhelm didn’t respond immediately. He simply shifted his footing, raising his blade slightly.

“I’ve heard the stories,” he said finally, voice calm, each word deliberate. “The Bowel Hunter. I never thought I’d meet such filth in the flesh.”

Elsa’s smile didn’t waver. In fact, it grew.

“Oh, my~ you’re going to make me blush~”

The tension in the air turned suffocating, magic and malice swirling like an oncoming storm. Behind Subaru, Beatrice stepped forward, eyes glowing faintly as she raised a hand—ready to assist. Julius followed Wilhelm’s lead, sword drawn, muscles tense.

Subaru swallowed thickly as he looked at the battlefield forming before him.

They were outnumbered, outmatched… but not broken.

Not yet.

He glanced at Pride, who stood relaxed among the chaos like a conductor before a symphony of destruction.

This wasn’t going to be easy.

But nothing ever was.

The air was heavy, still vibrating from the clash of blades between Wilhelm and Elsa, yet for Pride, it was just another day in the office.

He turned to Meili with a smile far too calm for the circumstances and reached out to gently pat her head, fingers brushing against the loose strands of her hair in a way that felt almost brotherly—if not for the cruel glint in his eyes.

“Meili,” he said softly, voice like velvet stretched over steel, “can you please call the Ma-beast for me?”

Meili blinked, the innocence in her expression contrasting the task she was about to fulfill. “Well, since Onii-san asked me so nicely~,” she sang, wagging her finger playfully in the air like she was stirring the breeze.

The reaction was immediate.

The shadows behind them thickened unnaturally, warping into twisted shapes as the low, guttural growls of approaching beasts filled the ruined hall. Snarling maws and glinting fangs emerged from the dark like nightmares crawling into reality—dozens of ma-beasts, large and small, now slinking toward the opposing group with bloodthirsty eyes.

“That’s my girl,” Pride murmured, still patting her head affectionately, as though she’d just shown him a crayon drawing and not summoned a small army of monsters.

The fire-spirit, who had been standing slightly off to the side, flared in agitation, her flames dancing brighter, hotter—a not-so-subtle display of envy as she eyed Meili soaking in the attention.

Pride noticed.

“Oh, right, that reminds me.” He turned to her, offering a hand with a casual flick of the wrist. “Dogu, I need you for a favor. Clear a path between me and the less handsome, kind of obnoxious, me.”

The fire-spirit’s eyes lit up like stars being born, her flames taking on a shimmering golden hue at his words.

“Right away, Master!” she declared, practically bouncing with excitement before exploding into a forward rush.

The air rippled with heat as she soared ahead, a literal comet of flame tearing through debris and snarling ma-beasts that dared to stray into her path. A burning corridor opened in front of Pride—an infernal divide aimed straight at Subaru and his companions.

Subaru instinctively shielded his face from the sudden wave of blistering heat, his coat catching embers that fizzled before they could ignite.

“Shit,” he muttered, teeth grit. “They’re forcing separation. Beako—!”

But before he could call out Pride strolled forward like a man on a garden walk, hands in his pockets, whistling faintly to himself.

“I really don’t get the drama,” Pride mused aloud, a note of theatrical indifference laced beneath his smugness. He sidestepped a patch of scorched rubble, the flames still licking at the edges from Dogu’s earlier rampage, and looked directly at Subaru.

“All of this fuss over something so small…”
His grin stretched wider—too wide to be natural, like a mask trying to hold back something far less composed.

“So,” he said, drawing out the syllable with a hum, “wanna have a chat?”

Subaru tensed. “...Are you… serious?”

“Don’t trust him, in fact!” Beatrice blurted from behind, stepping forward, her twin drills bouncing as she flared her mana instinctively. “Nothing good ever comes from talking to a madman, I suppose!”

Pride waved her off with a lazy flick of the wrist, already looking bored. “Relax, little spirit. If I wanted something bad to happen, Dogu over here would’ve turned this place into cinders ten minutes ago.”

With a casual motion, he lifted the fire-spirit into the air and placed her gently on his head like a crown. She puffed out her cheeks in mild protest, her tiny arms crossing as she tried to maintain some sense of dignity.

“Master…” she muttered, cheeks tinged with the faintest glow of pink—torn between flustered annoyance at being treated like a child and obvious delight at the attention.

Pride smirked, ruffling her hair with a single finger. “Calm down, I’ll get you a mana stone later.”

Dogu's eyes lit up instantly like a lantern. “A really shiny one?” she asked, voice barely containing her excitement.

“The shiniest,” he said, before turning back to Subaru, all levity vanishing from his eyes.

“So,” he started again, strolling forward at an easy pace, his boots crunching over broken glass and scorched tile, “how’s the weather? I’ve heard it’s pretty hot outside. And really, really smelly… you know, on account of the, uh—”

He gestured lazily with one hand, twirling his finger in the air.

“—bodies.”

Subaru didn’t respond right away. He was too busy studying the monster in front of him—this twisted reflection that wore his face like a stolen mask, wielding his voice like a weapon. The resemblance was uncanny… but the eyes were all wrong. Too sharp. Too amused. Too empty.

“You have a screw loose,” Subaru said at last.

Pride’s grin didn’t falter. “Wow, finally pieced that one together. I was starting to think I needed to wear a sign.”

He stepped closer, now just a few feet away. No weapons drawn, no guard raised—just a casual posture like they were having a chat over tea instead of in the middle of a battlefield.

“So,” he repeated. “Any questions? I don’t have a monologue planned for you right now—sorry, lazy writing on my part. But I’m feeling generous.”

He held up two fingers. “You get one question. I’ll even answer it truthfully… depending on my mood, of course.”

Subaru’s fists clenched. There were too many questions. Too many things he didn’t understand. Pride's presence twisted everything, made the world feel even less stable than it already was.

But if he could only ask one…

Subaru tightened his jaw, forcing himself to look past Pride’s smug grin and the nauseating sense of familiarity he radiated. He steadied his breath, his voice firm but cautious.

“The Cult… why are you here?”

Pride blinked. And then groaned as if Subaru had just told the most boring story imaginable.

“So lame,” he sighed, dramatically dragging a hand down his face. “You could’ve started off with, ‘Why do you share my face?’ or, ‘Why are you so impossibly cunning and handsome? You know, something interesting.”

He theatrically rolled his eyes, dragging the motion out with exaggerated flair. Meilli giggled softly beside him, clearly entertained by her brother’s antics, while Dogu just looked confused.

“I guess I should’ve lowered my expectations for you,” he added with a sigh, as if Subaru had disappointed him on a personal level.

Pride crouched and placed the fire-spirit down with surprising care, brushing off his coat like he hadn’t just insulted everyone in the room. Then he pulled his gospel from his coat pocket with the same nonchalance someone might use when checking a grocery list.

“Let’s see here…” he muttered, lazily flipping through pages as his eyes glazed over. “Apparently, Pandora wants us to pick up some dusty ol’ witch corpse. Something-something about reawakening potential, or ‘aligning fate’ or whatever mystical garbage she’s into this week.”

His tone was detached, flat, like someone talking about errands they didn’t want to run.

“Oh, and an artificial spirit, too. Yeah. That too.”

With a flick of his hand, he tossed the gospel aside like it was trash. Dogu immediately scurried over and caught it midair before placing it in a small satchel.

Subaru watched the exchange, trying to make sense of it—how someone could be this chaotic, this unpredictable, and yet still so methodical in how much damage they left behind.

Pride cracked his neck, standing back up with a yawn.

“Look, I don’t care what Pandora wants. She can keep writing in that stupid book all day for all I care.”

He kicked a chunk of fallen debris lazily, sending it skittering across the ground toward Julius, who didn’t even flinch.

“I’m here for me,” Pride said, gesturing to himself with both thumbs. “I’m just running a little field test. Trying out a theory. Tuning my instrument. You know…”

He smiled.

“…Seeing how loud I can make the world scream.”

Subaru's eyes widened slightly at that.

“You’re insane.”

“No, no, no,” Pride wagged a finger. “That’s slander. I’m motivated . Big difference.”

He stepped closer once again, hands stuffed in his pockets, head tilted slightly like he was sizing Subaru up.

“You should be flattered, really. You're the benchmark. The control group. Everything starts with you.”

“You see,” Pride said, lowering his voice into something quieter—more intimate, more venomous, “I already know I’ll win. This is just me figuring out how I want to enjoy it.”

The silence that followed was thick with tension. Even the violent symphony of clashing steel and snarling ma-beasts beyond the corridor—Julius and Wilhelm struggling to hold back the tide—seemed to quiet under the oppressive weight of what Pride would say next.

“Well, I’m bored of you both now,” Pride said with a sigh, like he was announcing the end of a dull dinner party. “So I think it’s time I killed everyone... except you, of course.”

He casually pointed to Subaru, wearing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“It’d be so inconvenient for me to have to repeat this entire thing. You’re not worth the effort of resetting, not right now.”

He bent down to his spirit’s level, crouching so their eyes met—an oddly intimate gesture considering what he was about to command.

“Dogu,” he said gently, brushing a strand of flaming hair out of her face. “Burn everyone here… except the guy who looks like me, just worse in every way. Got it?”

The little fire spirit blinked once, then gave a sharp, happy nod.

“As you command, Master!”

Her body began to glow—first a faint flicker, then a blinding brilliance, like a newborn star forcing itself into existence. The very air warped around her, the stone floor beneath her feet beginning to crack and blacken.

Heat blasted through the room like a wave. Beatrice clenched her fists, already weaving defensive barriers, sweat pouring from her brow. Wilhelm gritted his teeth, barely able to stand as his armor began to glow red-hot. Even Julius faltered, shielding his eyes with his forearm as he staggered back from the furnace-like radiance.

But Pride and his allies—Meilli, Elsa, even Dogu—remained perfectly at ease. It was as if the heat simply bent around them, refusing to touch its masters.

Subaru panicked.

He had no weapons. No backup. No plan.

He could see it now—everyone around him dying in flames while Pride stood untouched, smug and victorious.

He needed something. Anything .

Then it hit him.

Something Pride had let slip. Something he knew he could use.

The Archbishops hated each other. Pride especially hated them. And if Pride was anything like him he'd be obsessed with her .

So Subaru did the one thing he could.

He gambled.

“ Emilia! ”

The name cut through the noise like a sword. Pride’s smug expression flickered, the energy from Dogu faltering slightly as her glow dimmed—not much, but enough to make everyone in the room freeze.

Subaru latched onto the hesitation.

“You want to save Emilia, right?” he blurted. “I know where Greed is. I have an idea where he’s hiding. If you let us go— if you don’t kill them —I’ll take you to him.”

Pride didn’t speak at first.

He just stared.

Subaru met his gaze, refusing to flinch, even though his knees were shaking.

“Don’t you want to stick it to that bastard?” Subaru added, his voice lower, more convincing. “You hate him. You all do. Think about it—what if he’s getting close to her right now? Wouldn’t it piss you off knowing he touched her first?”

That did it.

Pride’s hands twitched at his sides. He turned his back slowly, muttering something under his breath before calling out—

“ Elsa! ”

The assassin disengaged from Wilhelm in a blur, flipping through the air and landing beside him with catlike grace.

“Yes, my prized contractor?”

“We’re leaving,” Pride said with a bored drawl, but his eyes were sharp, smoldering with restrained anger.

He turned to Dogu, who looked like she’d just been told she couldn’t blow out birthday candles.

“Dogu, stop charging.”

The little fire-spirit looked devastated .

“But Master—!”

“No buts.” Pride interrupted.

The glow faded. The heat ebbed. The world began to cool once more.

Subaru let out a long, shaky breath as the room went from hellish furnace to tolerable sauna.

Pride turned back to him.

“One lie, Subaru, and I will burn every inch of your body. Slowly. And you won’t get to die after, either.”

He smiled again.

“See you soon.”

And with that, Pride turned on his heel, cape fluttering behind him as he strolled out, Dogu skipping after him, Meilli humming to herself, and Elsa walking with that graceful, lethal gait of hers.

The room was silent for a long time after they were gone.

Then Beatrice finally exhaled. “That… was… horrifying, in fact.”

Subaru collapsed to his knees, heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst.

“But we’re alive,” he whispered. “Somehow.”

Julius stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“We won’t let that bastard get what he wants. Not while we still breathe.”

Wilhelm nodded quietly behind them.

Subaru clenched his fists.

“Time to move. Before he changes his mind.”

Chapter Text

As they walked through the crumbling remains of what had once been a proud stronghold, Pride’s boots crunched against shattered tiles and fallen stone. With every step, his rage boiled higher. The grin had long since vanished from his face. What replaced it was something far uglier.

His fingers twitched before curling into fists.

Then he began to claw at his arms—his nails digging furiously into his own flesh, peeling away skin like he was trying to get rid of something inside of him. Blood welled up, smeared down the sides of his wrists. He didn’t stop. Couldn’t. His breathing turned erratic, uneven, almost feral.

He wasn’t just mad.

That word didn’t even begin to touch what he felt.

He was humiliated.
Manipulated.
Cornered.
He—the one who stood above all others—had been outplayed by a pitiful little roach who barely qualified as human.

The idea that Subaru, of all people, had disarmed him—if only briefly—gnawed at the inside of his mind like termites through rotten wood. He needed to destroy something. Someone. Maybe even himself.

Rip it out. Tear it off. Cut it out. Burn it all.

He moved to dig his nails deeper, teeth grinding—

A hand suddenly grabbed his arm.

Firm, yet oddly delicate.

He blinked down to see Elsa holding his wrist, her fingers wrapped gently around the torn skin. Her touch didn’t restrain him by force. It just stopped him.

Like something familiar. Anchoring.

“I thought I told you,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous, “that if you ever touched me, I’d feed you to a ma-beast.”

Elsa’s smile was soft and sweet. That alone was a warning.

“Hmm~? But my contract says I must protect you from all threats, prized contractor…” she whispered. “Even yourself.”

She looped her arm through his, clutching it the way a twisted bride might cling to her groom at a funeral altar.

The blood didn’t bother her in the slightest.

Neither did the snarling rage barely restrained beneath his skin.

“You’re a freak,” Pride muttered, still walking forward despite himself.

“Ooh~ You wound me,” she said with a mock pout, resting her head briefly against his shoulder.

He sighed, more irritated than anything, trying to push down the storm inside him. It didn’t work.

But Elsa, ever the opportunist, caught the moment of relative calm and pressed forward.

“I do have a question, though.”

Pride side-eyed her, narrowing his gaze.

“Hm? Go ahead. Ask away. It’s not like I have any peace to interrupt anyway.”

“You seem to have a particular obsession,” Elsa said, her voice light and teasing, “with the one who shares your face.”

There was a flicker.

A twitch in his lip. A subtle shift in his jaw.

Then, he laughed. A soft, dry thing. Empty of real amusement.

“What? Me? Nooo,” he said, his tone painfully insincere. “That’s a lie. He just happens to be there every time. Coincidence.”

Elsa raised a brow, clearly unconvinced, but she didn’t press. Instead, she leaned closer, brushing her finger lazily along the blood still smeared on his arm.

“Coincidence, huh~? I suppose the fact you let him live— again —is a coincidence too?”

Pride didn’t answer.

The silence was louder than a scream.

She laughed, then let go of his arm, skipping a few paces ahead, Dogu following behind her like a cheerful, bouncing ember.

Pride remained still for a moment longer, staring at the claw marks he’d carved into his skin. The blood. The pain.

Then he smiled.

Not the fake kind.

But the slow, simmering kind. The kind that promised ruin .

He whispered to himself, voice cold as obsidian:

“Next time, I won’t hesitate.”

The words barely left Pride’s mouth before a familiar voice piped up behind him—light and sing-song, like a child catching her parents doing something scandalous.

“Are you and Onee-san flirting again?”

He flinched ever so slightly, turning his head just enough to see Meilli trotting up behind him, perched comfortably on the back of a large, shaggy Ma-beast. Its heavy paws thudded against the broken terrain like distant drums, its glowing eyes fixed protectively on the little girl atop its back.

Meilli beamed at him, completely unbothered by the lingering tension still radiating from his figure.

Pride clicked his tongue, running a hand through his hair, smearing more blood into the silver strands. “How many times do I have to tell you?” he muttered, voice tight. “We. Don’t. Flirt.”

“Li~es,” Meilli sang back, swaying slightly on the Ma-beast’s shoulders. “Onee-san and Onii-san flirt all the time. All the time! Especially when you think me and Fiery Onee-san are asleep.”

Behind them, Dogu puffed up proudly, practically walking beside the beast like a spark with too much personality. “I am very aware of my Master and elder sister’s… flirtations”

Pride shot a sideways glance at the glowing spirit, who was currently spinning in dramatic offense.

“Not helping,” he muttered.

“But it’s true!” Meilli insisted with that teasing grin of hers. “Onee-san touches your arm like this—” she pantomimed a slow, sultry stroke down the Ma-beast’s fur, causing the creature to grunt in confusion, “—and then you get all weird and grumbly and broody like this —”

She scrunched up her face and crossed her arms in a mock-frown, her voice dropping low in parody: “Elsa stop touching me or I’ll turn you into red mist—bleh bleh bleh~!”

Pride glared, expression somewhere between annoyance and baffled disbelief. “That’s not flirting. It’s called strategy. You know, like maintaining discipline. Focus. Respect.”

“Whatever Onii-san says~” Meilli sang again, swinging her legs back and forth as the Ma-beast padded lazily alongside him. “But Onee-san says if she kisses you first, it’ll break your ‘edgy brooding enchantment.’”

Dogu floated closer to Pride’s ear, whispering excitedly, “I would like to see this enchantment-breaking ritual! Is it like a summoning circle?”

Pride groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re all insane. Every last one of you.”

Elsa, from several paces ahead, called over her shoulder without even turning around, “If I do break your enchantment, will you cry, Prized Contractor~?”

“Keep talking and I’ll test that ma-beast digestion theory I’ve been meaning to try.”

“I knew it,” Meilli said brightly. “That’s totally flirting.”

Pride ignored them, choosing instead to look up at the cloudy sky above, still faintly red from the fires they left behind. His hands were still bandaged in fresh linen Elsa had torn from someone’s cloak, but he could feel the sting beneath—just enough to keep him grounded.

They were heading somewhere darker now. Closer to whatever came next.

And even with the teasing, the chatter, the laughter…

He couldn’t shake that image of Subaru. Of himself.

Just standing there. Thinking he’d won.

Next time, Pride swore again in his head— next time —he wouldn’t hesitate.

But for now, he let the others talk. Let them laugh.

Let them pretend it was still a game.

Because when it stopped being one… he would be the only one left standing.

Pride’s eyes narrowed at the horizon, the dim glow of distant fires painting the edge of the sky in an angry red. The silence around him was a rare thing—almost sacred in its stillness.

Then it was shattered by a small, trembling voice.

“Onii-san…”

He blinked, pulled from his thoughts by Meilli’s panicked whimper. Her usual bubbly tone was replaced by something quieter, more fragile.

He turned slightly, brows arching with faint curiosity. “Is something wrong?”

She looked like she wanted to hide behind the Ma-beast she was riding, her eyes welling with tears as her fingers wrung at the hem of her sleeve.

“I-I lost it…” she sniffled, bottom lip trembling. “The Ma-beast plush you gave me… I-I think it fell out when we were leaving…”

Pride sighed softly. Not out of annoyance, but something else. Something harder to define. He extended his arms toward her.

“Come here.”

She didn't hesitate, sliding off the back of the Ma-beast and clambering into his embrace. Despite everything—her connection to death, the coldness she could show in battle—right now, she looked exactly like what she was: a child who’d lost her favorite toy.

He hoisted her easily and placed her on his shoulder, the way she liked best. From there, she curled up slightly, resting her head against the side of his.

“I’ll make you a new one when we get out of this place,” he said after a moment, his voice softer than anyone on the battlefield would’ve believed possible.

“Promise?” she murmured, her fingers fiddling with a lock of his hair.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Cross my heart, hope to die, all of that dramatic stuff.”

“Do the pinky promise thing,” she mumbled. “The one you taught me.”

He rolled his eyes with a huff that didn’t quite hide the way his lips curved upward just slightly. “You’re not going to let this go, huh…”

“Nope!”

With a defeated sigh, he raised his pinky finger. She wrapped hers around it instantly, sealing the ancient and unbreakable oath of childhood.

“There. Happy?” he asked.

“Yup!” she chirped. “Because that means Onii-san has to keep his promise to me!”

She giggled, the kind that made it impossible to tell she'd just been on the verge of tears. Her laughter echoed faintly over the ruined stones and broken silence of the world they were leaving behind.

Elsa, walking a few paces ahead, turned her head ever so slightly, watching the scene with unreadable eyes. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to.

Pride exhaled, resting his hand on Meilli’s leg to keep her steady on his shoulder. The weight of her, the warmth, the trust—none of it matched the chaos and cruelty around them.

But in a world as broken as this, maybe something didn’t have to make sense to be real.

“…You’re such a pain,” he muttered.

“And you’re warm like a big fuzzy Ma-beast,” Meilli countered.

“…Don’t push it.”

Chapter Text

“Are we seriously going to go along with him?”

Julius’s voice was quiet, but the apprehension in it echoed louder than any shout. His hand rested loosely on the hilt of his sword, but Subaru could see the tension in his shoulders. The unease in his normally composed gaze.

Subaru didn’t answer right away. He looked off toward the direction Pride had disappeared into, Meilli riding a beast at his side and Elsa trailing like a shadow.

“What, you think I want to work with that arrogant jerk?” Subaru finally replied, running a hand through his hair with a frustrated sigh. “But it was the only way I could think of to save us in the moment. If I hadn’t said what I did, we’d be ashes on the floor by now.”

He turned back toward Julius, his expression serious—more mature than he used to be, perhaps.

“I won’t blame you if you don’t want to come.”

Julius opened his mouth as if to answer, but someone else cut in before he could.

“I wouldn’t mind ya takin’ Juli for a bit.”

The smooth, lilting voice of Anastasia floated over to them. The purple-haired candidate stood a short distance away, arms folded neatly, scarf fluttering lightly in the breeze. Her eyes, though playful as ever, held a sharp gleam of calculation.

“As long as ya return him to me in one piece,” she added, smirking lightly. “And ya remember the debt you’ll owe me, of course.”

“Anastasia-sama, are you sure—”

Julius turned to her in alarm, but she silenced him with a gentle wave of her hand and a sly wink.

“Don’t worry so much, Juli. I’ve got this all figured out. Go with Subaru. Take Greed down. And who knows?” She shrugged casually. “Maybe you’ll nail that Pride fellow too. It’d be a shame if someone else got to him first.”

Subaru blinked at her, unsure whether to thank her or be slightly afraid of her phrasing.

Julius looked torn for only a moment longer before a calm, resolved smile broke across his face. He turned back to Subaru with that same chivalrous glint in his eye.

“It appears,” he said smoothly, adjusting the cuff of his glove, “that I will be joining you after all.”

Subaru gave him a short nod. “I could use the backup.”

Julius chuckled faintly, the tension between them dissipating just a bit. “Yes, I imagine you could.”

Anastasia walked up beside them, her gaze flitting between the two with amused curiosity. “You boys try not to get yourselves killed, alright? I’m not payin’ for any extra recovery fees.”

Subaru snorted. “Noted.”

As they turned to leave, heading toward the next storm on the horizon, the unspoken truth hung between them—alliances with monsters, debts with devils, and the constant gamble of trust in a world where every step forward came at a price.

But even in a world twisted by the sins of the Witch and her followers…

Sometimes, the only way to survive was to walk alongside the monsters—and hope you could outrun them when it counted.

___________________________________________________________

Subaru walked out of the building with Julius on his right and Beatrice clinging quietly to his left arm, her small form unusually silent. The moment they stepped outside, the full weight of what had happened hit them like a gust of fetid wind.

The streets were cracked and uneven, scorched by fire magic and shattered by brute force. Buildings lay in half-crumbled ruins, stone and timber mangled together like broken bones. Ash still drifted lazily in the air, catching the light like snow—if snow carried the smell of charred flesh and melted iron.

They walked past the wreckage slowly, as if moving too fast might disturb the ghosts left behind. The silence was heavy, broken only by the crunch of gravel beneath their boots.

“...Truly sickening…” Julius muttered, voice low with disgust. His eyes swept over the wreckage, lingering briefly on a blackened piece of cloth caught on a splintered window frame—too human in shape to be anything else.

He swallowed and pushed forward.

“Despicable, I suppose...” Beatrice added, a little louder this time, as if needing to say it aloud to believe it. “To think someone would do this while wearing Betty's Subaru's face, in fact... ”

Subaru didn’t reply immediately. His expression was drawn, eyes distant as he stared at a collapsed building to the side of the road. The tiles of its roof had been blown clean off, some of them melted together into a grotesque, warped mess. He crouched down and brushed away some debris, revealing part of a burnt sign: Florist .

He could still smell it—the stench of burning flesh. It clung to his nostrils, to the inside of his lungs. It was everywhere. It didn’t fade. It didn’t let go. Like a sickness that refused to leave its host.

“Hey guys… I’m not happy about it either,” Subaru finally said, his voice tired but laced with an edge of bitterness. “Seeing this… knowing someone with my face did all this… I’m the last person who wants to be working with him.”

Beatrice looked up at him, her fingers still wrapped around his sleeve. “Then why, I suppose?”

He gave her a sideways glance, half-hearted. “Because if we don’t… we won’t survive long enough to stop him. Or Greed. Or any of them.”

Julius narrowed his eyes. “Is survival worth it if it means aligning people like him..." his eyes scanned over the ruined city, charred beyond recognition. 

Subaru didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

Not because he didn’t have a reply—but because none of the ones he could think of made him feel any less hollow.

They continued down the ruined street in silence. The wreckage grew worse the deeper they walked into the district—an entire alleyway had collapsed into itself, smoke still rising from deep within the wreckage. They passed what looked like the remnants of a once-grand fountain, now filled with ash and bone.

________________________________________________________

“So who’s stronger between you and the Sword Saint, Onii-san?” Meilli asked from her perch atop the massive ma-beast’s back, her voice innocent, curious—dangerously so.

Pride blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question. His brows knit together in visible irritation.

“Hah? Where did that come from?” he asked, glaring up at her as if she’d just said something personally offensive.

She tilted her head playfully, completely unfazed by his tone. “Onii-san always says he can’t lose no matter what… so I was just wondering what would happen if you fought the Sword Saint, Onii-san~”

The question hung in the air longer than it should’ve. Even the ma-beasts walking alongside them seemed to grow a little quieter, the tension around them curling like the tail of a whip before it strikes.

Pride didn’t respond immediately. His expression had grown unreadable—less annoyance, more… introspection? He looked up at the sky briefly, as if weighing something heavy and invisible against it.

“...”
Finally, he broke the silence.

“No.”

A single word, flat and final. Not because he admitted weakness—but because something deeper kept him from entertaining the idea.

Meilli blinked, obviously disappointed. Her little shoulders slumped forward.

“But—”

“But,” he interrupted, his voice turning low and sharp, “I can guarantee the entire country will burn down before he actually takes me down.”

His smirk returned, faint but unmistakable. It was that same dangerous grin that usually preceded carnage—more a promise than a threat. “I might not win… but nothing would be left standing when it’s over. Not the buildings, not the trees, not the people—nothing.”

Meilli perked up a little at that, giggling like she’d just been told a bedtime story. “So that means Onii-san still wins, right~?”

“Tch. Obviously,” he said, flicking her forehead lightly. “Who cares about swords when the sky’s raining fire?”

With a small chuckle, Meilli leaned back against her ma-beast, content now with the answer.

Pride, however, turned his gaze forward once more, his grin gone, his mind drifting back to the memory of Reinhard's eyes—those unshakable blue eyes that held no fear. His fingers twitched.

He didn’t fear death. But that man ? That man was one of the few things in this world Pride wouldn’t touch lightly. Because fighting the Sword Saint wasn’t a question of victory.

It was a question of price .

And he wasn’t sure the world could afford it.

Not the destruction, not the aftermath, not the sight of ash replacing cities and fire swallowing oceans. A fight between them would be the stuff of songs—or dirges.

But there was no time to ponder it further.

“Alright, everyone look alive now,” Pride called out, rolling his neck with a loud crack. “This is the spot where the cheap version of me said to meet up.”

His tone was nonchalant, but his golden eyes scanned the area like a hawk. Sharp. Calculating.

Sure enough, just ahead, there he was.

The face that belonged to him—yet didn’t.

There was something deeply wrong about seeing it worn by someone else, like a mask stretched over a soul that couldn’t possibly match. Even now, with everything else going on, it still annoyed him on a fundamental level.

The resemblance was uncanny, sure, but only on the surface. Pride held himself like a living blade, every movement coiled with dangerous energy. Subaru, by contrast, stood like a man desperately trying to hold a blade he’d barely learned how to wield.

Still… he was useful.

And Regulus… Regulus would be insufferable alone.

The thought of his fellow Sin Archbishop twisted Pride’s expression into something between disgust and boredom. Even he had limits.

Elsa had slowed down to match his pace, her eyes always watching—predator-like in the most literal sense. She slinked up closer beside him, stepping over rubble like she was walking on velvet.

“Is my prized contractor ner~vous?” she asked in a singsong tone, just loud enough for him to hear.

He didn’t look at her. “Of what?”

“Of yourself, of course,” she whispered, as if sharing a delicious secret. Her lips curved into a half-smile. “I would be as we~ll.”

There was something disarmingly warm about the way she said it, like a lover's tease. But her grip on the hilt of her blade never eased, and her eyes never stopped moving. She wasn’t flirting. She was assessing .

“Cute,” he muttered, not slowing down.

But her words lingered. Because somewhere, in that always-turning mind of his, they weren’t entirely untrue.

He glanced forward again at Subaru—his ‘cheap version,’ as he’d so kindly labeled him.

He smirked, hands sliding into his pockets.

Not long now. They were getting close.

The show was about to start. And when it did, Pride wasn’t sure who would be left to take a final bow.

“Well then…”
Pride began, casually brushing ash from his shoulder like it was lint.
“Lead the way. Unless, of course, you want Dogu to barbecue all of you at once.”

Subaru groaned, not bothering to hide the exasperation in his voice.
“Do you have an obsession with fire or something? Your threats all follow a certain theme, I’ve noticed.”

Pride shot him a sideways glance, the smirk on his lips thin and sharp.
“If it works, it works. Honestly, I think you’re just failing to appreciate the proper application of fire. It’s elegant, versatile. Eternal.”

“It’s also extremely flammable,” Subaru muttered, crossing his arms. “Just like your personality.”

“Hmm. Flammable, but unforgettable.”

Dogu chuckled, floating beside her master with a twinkle in her eye.
“Master does have a point. There’s no drama quite like the crackle of a funeral pyre.”

“As expected,” Beatrice huffed under her breath, clinging tighter to Subaru’s coat. “You two bicker with barely veiled contempt disguised as playful teasing, I suppose.”

Julius sighed beside them, one hand never straying far from his rapier.
“And yet, somehow… this remains our best plan.”

But they had a goal. And despite all the sniping, the friction, and the barely contained chaos between them… they would accomplish it. No matter what.

________________________________________________________________

Elsewhere…

The ornate cathedral stood tall—almost mockingly beautiful in its architecture, white stone glimmering under beams of sun filtered through stained glass. But the beauty of the building couldn’t hide the cruelty of what was unfolding within.

“...And that’s why,” the silver-haired girl declared… “I’ll never marry you!”

Her hands were bound in ceremonial ribbons—symbolic, supposedly, of union and devotion—but in truth they were just decorated shackles.

Regulus sneered, pure loathing twisting his face into something barely human.
“Tch. You ungrateful whore of a woman.”

He raised his hand with a flash of unnatural speed, but before he could strike—

A blast of fire roared through the main doors of the cathedral, engulfing him in a searing inferno and slamming him against the far wall. Marble cracked. Smoke curled through the air.

The flames flickered away a second later, as if bowing to the arrival of their master.

Pride stepped through the smoke, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeve.
“Your timing was off.”

Subaru, trailing a few steps behind him with a limp in his stride, narrowed his eyes.
“Seriously? That was all you.”

“Incorrect,” Dogu said with a cheerful hum, hovering just over Pride’s shoulder. “Master’s delivery of the kick was far more punctual.”

Pride shrugged as if the argument was already settled.
“See? Even Dogu agrees with me.”

“And of course she does,” Subaru muttered. “She’s practically made of your ego.”

The tension in the room shifted suddenly as Regulus rose from the debris, his suit only mildly scorched and his expression livid. Not wounded. Not even bruised. But insulted.

“I don’t recall inviting any men to the wedding,” he spat, brushing soot from his white cuffs. “State your name and your business here before I decide to remove your tongue.”

The uninvited guests didn’t flinch.

“Isn’t it obvious?”
They said in unison—Subaru and Pride both, speaking with matching voices but polar opposite energies.

“I object to this wedding…” Subaru began, voice cold and resolute.
“…and I’ll be taking the bride with me,” Pride finished, a wicked grin splitting his face.

The cathedral echoed with the tension of something ancient being pulled taut.

Emilia’s wide, violet eyes locked onto Subaru’s—hope and horror and disbelief all blooming at once.

Regulus’s expression cracked like porcelain.

Chapter Text

“Elsa!”

Pride snapped, his voice cutting cleanly through the thick, smoke-saturated air.

The assassin reacted instantly, a flash of black leather and silver steel moving faster than most eyes could track. A knife, glinting wickedly in the low light, flew from seemingly nowhere. As expected, the blade shattered against Regulus's body the moment it touched him.

But that was never the point.

The shattering of the blade filled the room with a sudden burst of razor-fine shards, catching the light and momentarily clouding Regulus’s vision in a storm of glittering steel dust.

“Dogu,” Pride said, his tone sharp and cool, “make him leave.”

The fire-spirit nodded, her small hands glowing brighter than the cathedral’s stained glass. Without hesitation, she unleashed a torrential blast of fire, the temperature of the room spiking with a roar. The sheer force of the blast was less an attack and more a battering ram of raw heat and force.

Regulus was caught dead-on, the fire roaring against him like a living beast. Despite his immunity to damage, the force —the sheer overwhelming power behind the attack—launched him bodily through the air.

With a thunderous crash, Regulus was blasted through the massive double doors of the chapel, disappearing into the courtyard beyond.

Ash rained down like black snow.

Pride exhaled slowly through his nose, turning a lazy eye towards Julius, who had been watching the exchange with a hand already resting on the hilt of his rapier.

“Hey, you mind making yourself useful and going after him?” Pride said, voice dripping with condescension.

Julius narrowed his eyes, looking Pride up and down with all the disgust of a man staring at a rotting carcass.

“I have no obligation to take orders from you,” he said coolly.

Pride chuckled under his breath, a hollow, humorless sound.
“And I have no obligation to listen to your grating voice, yet here we are, still wasting precious oxygen.”

Without waiting for a reply, Pride snapped his fingers.

The effect was instantaneous: with a low, rumbling growl, a swarm of ma-beasts poured into the cathedral from the shattered side doors—fangs bared, eyes gleaming, their forms monstrous and slavering. Some looked vaguely canine, others reptilian, but they all radiated malice.

“You can take those with you if you want,” Pride said, rolling his shoulders lazily. “Or don’t, it is a free country, after all. A complimentary gift from me to you.”

He shot Julius a wicked grin, eyes glinting with amusement.

“Leave things here to me and my cheap knockoff. We’ll handle cleanup.”

Julius clenched his jaw, shooting a brief, apologetic glance at Subaru, who simply gave him a small nod. There wasn’t time to argue—not when Emilia's life hung in the balance.

Tightening his grip on his sword, Julius whirled around, a gust of wind kicking up his cape as he and a vanguard of summoned ma-beasts charged out into the courtyard, where Regulus was already rising to his feet amid the wreckage.

Pride watched him go, then turned back toward the battered cathedral interior, the shattered pews, the stunned onlookers—and most importantly, the girl at the center of it all.

“Well then,” he said, cracking his knuckles one by one. “Let’s get this wedding really ruined.”

Subaru, standing at his side, drew in a sharp breath.

“For once,” Subaru muttered under his breath, “we’re in agreement.”

“Perfect, now go get Emilia. I’ll be busy,” Pride said, waving him off with casual disdain, like one might dismiss a bothersome fly.

“Busy with what?” Subaru asked, suspicion lacing his voice as he hesitated.

Pride gave him a flat, pitying stare—the kind reserved for a particularly slow-witted child struggling with basic arithmetic.

“Can’t you piece it together?” Pride asked, voice practically dripping with scorn. “I know you’re stupid, but just think for a second. His name. You know, the stars? His Authority? Don’t tell me you haven’t figured out the connection yet.”

Subaru’s eyes widened slightly, his mind racing.

“I have to kill his wives to kill him, ” Pride finished, his voice disturbingly casual, as though discussing the most mundane errand.

Subaru froze in place, the blood draining from his face. His mind screamed in protest, but Pride didn’t even blink at his horror.

Without hesitation, Pride reached into his coat, producing a wickedly curved knife that glinted under the ruined chandeliers of the cathedral. He stalked toward the row of women—the wives of Regulus—who stood unnervingly still, like dolls arranged in a grotesque display.

Each of them looked hollow, their eyes blank and empty, their bodies moving only when commanded. Pride knew—they weren’t people anymore, not truly. They were living shackles Regulus used to bind his Authority to this world.

"And besides," Pride said, almost conversationally, "they'd much rather die than be a pawn to that creep Regulus."

He spat the name like it physically disgusted him.

He raised the knife, ready to deliver the first swift strike—but before he could bring it down, a freezing chill blasted through the air like an invisible spear.

CRACK!

His arm froze solid mid-swing, ice crawling up from his wrist toward his elbow, the freezing burn making him snarl in pain.

“Dammit!” he hissed, struggling against the frost encasing his muscles.

His sharp eyes darted to the source—and, of course, it was her.

Standing there, face grim with resolve, was Emilia.

Her silver hair fluttered in the cold mist now emanating from her magic, her hands raised and glowing with a soft, bluish-white light. Her whole body trembled slightly, but her gaze was unwavering.

"...I should’ve known it wouldn’t be so easy to commit murder right in front of you guys," Pride said, exhaling sharply. His lips twisted into a smile—not a forced one, but a genuine one, as if he found the situation amusing.

“Always lovely to see you, Emilia. However—” he gave a theatrical shrug with his unfrozen shoulder “—I’m in the middle of a job , so if you could please unfreeze my knife, that would be great.”

Emilia's heart twisted painfully in her chest. She didn’t doubt that Pride was telling the truth, or that there was some twisted logic behind his words… Only added by the fact that he looked like Subaru. But that didn’t make what he was planning right.

"Even if that's how we can beat that man..." Emilia said, her voice trembling slightly. "We have to find another way. They've barely begun to live their lives we have no right to take it away! "

For a brief moment, the chapel felt still, as if even the air paused to consider her words.

Pride chuckled lowly, a crooked smile spreading across his face—not mocking, but almost… fond.

“You're so unbearably naïve,” he said, almost wistfully. “But that’s what makes you so adorable .”

The smile lingered on his lips as he turned toward his spirit.

“Dogu,” he said with practiced nonchalance, “mind thawing this for me?”

The fire spirit gave a small, concerned huff, but nodded. She placed her hand near his arm, channeling a focused wave of heat to melt the frost inch by inch. Steam rose between her fingers, coiling into the rafters above like phantom smoke.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” Pride said flatly, watching the frost recede. “And frankly, I don’t trust any of you to pull this off. No offense to my darling Emilia, of course.”

His tone on the word “darling” was anything but affectionate. It was possessive. Dismissive. Like a child referring to a toy.

Subaru clenched his teeth so tightly his jaw trembled. The way Pride spoke about Emilia… like she was a belonging, a prized object—it made his blood boil.

Because he recognized that tone.

He had once used it himself.

Back in the capital, back when he thought the world owed him everything for simply trying. When he thought caring about someone gave him ownership over them.

“You have no right,” Subaru said through gritted teeth, “to talk down to us when you’re too much of a coward to even try to help.”

The chapel’s warmth twisted suddenly into something else—a simmering pressure thick enough to make the air feel heavy.

“…Huh?”

Pride’s head turned slowly, sharply. His smile dropped.

The moment cracked.

“Sorry,” he said, voice low and venomous, “for not wanting to take a risk. Unlike some people here, I’m efficient. I do what needs to be done.”

Then he moved. Suddenly. Aggressively.

The fire spirit barely had time to react. The frost still clung to his arm in patches, but he didn’t care.

“Master! Your arm—!”

She reached out instinctively, but he ignored her.

With one motion, he seized Subaru by the front of his coat and slammed him into the cracked stone wall of the cathedral. The impact rattled dust from the rafters above.

“I have no obligation to listen to your pandering about your morals ,” he snarled, inches from Subaru’s face. “So what’s going to happen is that—”

He didn’t get to finish.

A pulse of mana shimmered in the air behind him.

“I suggest you let go, I suppose.”

The soft but firm voice of Beatrice cut through the tension like a knife. Pride glanced to the side and saw the purple glow of a spiraling mana spear hovering just inches from his temple, floating there with lethal intent.

Her tiny hand outstretched, trembling slightly—not with fear, but with the effort of restraint.

His gaze slid from her the spirit to Subaru, then to the side again—

—and that’s when he felt it. The slightest pressure at his blind spot.

A whisper of air.

A presence.

Shk—

A glint of metal.

A blade, curved and gleaming, now gently brushing the side of Beatrice’s neck.

Elsa stood behind her like a shadow given form, her expression unreadable and calm—like a spider watching a fly caught in its web.

“Great work, Elsa,” Pride said smoothly, his composure snapping right back into place. “Didn’t even have to tell you to do anything that time.”

“Your desires grow more predictable by the day, contractor...” she replied coolly.

Beatrice didn’t flinch. Her mana spear didn’t waver.

“You’ll regret this, I suppose,” she whispered, magic humming louder in the air around her.

“Maybe,” Pride said with a light shrug. “But I’ve regretted far worse.”

A beat of silence passed. The pressure in the chapel built toward a dangerous crescendo, one wrong move away from an all-out collapse.

Then, Emilia’s voice rose again—calm, but firm.

“ Enough! ”

She stepped between them, magic still flickering at her fingertips. Her expression was the kind that left no room for argument.

“We don’t have time for this,” she said. “If we start fighting each other now, then that man will win. And I won’t let that happen.”

Even Elsa hesitated at the edge of her command. Slowly, the knife pulled back from Beatrice’s throat.

Beatrice’s spear dissipated into glowing motes.

Pride slowly released Subaru, his eyes lingering on him for just a moment too long.

“Next time,” he said coldly, “don’t talk about courage when you don’t have the resolve to stain your hands.”

Subaru, still catching his breath, glared back.

“Someone has to have the resolve to keep them clean.”

Neither of them smiled this time.

The words hung in the air like the tension before a thunderclap—quiet, but charged with something far more dangerous than shouting ever could be.

Pride scoffed, brushing imaginary dust off his coat sleeve with a flourish.

“You’re hopelessly pathetic,” he spat. “You want to save a bunch of dolls who want nothing more than to stab their own master. They’re not even alive in the way you think they are. They have no will, no minds of their own. Just flesh shells wrapped around commands and submission.”

He took a slow step forward, eyes narrowing. The heat from Dogu’s form shimmered at his side, but his words were far colder.

“At least I have the decency to grant them autonomy through mercy. Through release. I’m the only one here willing to do the hard thing.”

But then—

Smack.

A sharp, clean slap echoed off the chapel walls like a gunshot.

Pride’s head jerked slightly to the side, more from surprise than pain. For a moment, he just stood there, eyes wide, frozen not by ice magic but by sheer disbelief.

The hand that struck him trembled slightly—not from fear, but from fury.

It was Emilia.

And her face… was unlike anything anyone in the room had seen before. Her usual softness was gone. In its place burned righteous anger—cold, clear, and merciless.

“You may look like Subaru…” she said, her voice sharp as frostbite. “And you may talk like him…”

Her violet eyes locked onto his golden ones, refusing to blink, refusing to back down.

“But that gives you no right to speak down to my knight!”

Her words struck harder than her slap.

“You’re a terrible person who’s too afraid to even try to be kind! Too proud to admit you could ever be wrong.”

She took a step closer.

“That’s why my Subaru—my knight—will always be better than you.”

She meant every word.

And the worst part?

So did everyone else.

Pride didn't respond at first. He didn’t even blink. The words had landed where no weapon could have. Deep, and precisely. His body remained still, but his mind twisted like a knife in water.

Less than… him?

That can’t be right.

He had done everything right. Every painful step Subaru had stumbled through—he had walked those paths cleaner. Quicker. More decisively. No hesitation. No naive hope. No wasted emotion. He had shed all that weakness like old skin.

He had to be the superior one. The refined version. The true evolution.

And yet…

Why did it sting?

Why did her words hurt more than the ice freezing his limbs or the slap ringing in his ears?

Was it because a part of him knew ?

Knew that all his coldness was just armor for a wounded ego? That deep beneath the masks and bravado… he had given up on something Subaru still hadn’t let go of?

Subaru, standing across from him now, bloodied but unbroken, staring not with hate—but with pity.

That’s what burned most of all.

Not contempt.

Pity.

His expression faltered for a second. Just a flicker. Just a twitch at the edge of his mouth. Something cracking.

Dogu shifted her stance uneasily, glancing between him and Emilia.

“Master?” Dogu said again, her voice soft, uncertain. The glow of her form dimmed slightly, unsure of what to do, unsure of who her master was becoming.

Pride’s gaze, still cast low, trembled as if trying to contain something volatile. But then it lifted—no longer empty, no longer composed. It was brimming with rage.

“...No right… no right?! ”

His voice crackled like fire catching dry kindling, raw and disbelieving. He whirled on Emilia, eyes burning with an intensity that made even Elsa shift her stance warily.

“I have brought an entire world down for no other reason than to make YOU happy!” he snarled, pacing like a cornered animal. “I’ve broken my body countless times in pursuit of that stupid dream, crawling through blood and fire and death to place you on that STUPID THRONE—!”

His voice echoed through the chapel, bouncing off shattered stained glass and holy statues now defiled by conflict.

Emilia staggered back slightly—not in fear, but in stunned confusion. There was no recognition in her expression. No understanding of what he was talking about. Her brows furrowed, and for a long, painful moment, she didn’t even speak.

Because she couldn’t .

Who was this person?

This man who spoke as if they shared a life, who hurled words soaked in obsession and martyrdom as though that justified everything? Who—

Expected something from her.

It reminded her of—

Her heart clenched.

It reminded her of Regulus.

That same warped possessiveness. That belief that sacrifice entitled one to affection. That love could be earned like currency. That devotion, no matter how twisted, could be traded for someone’s heart.

“So if you think I have no right—” Pride pressed on, unaware of her spiraling realization, “—you’d be wrong, because I’m more within my rights than anyone to talk down to someone who hasn’t put in half the work I have for you!”

“You keep saying that like it means something,” Emilia finally cut in, her voice calm—but low, almost sad.

“I never asked for any of that. Not your sacrifices. Not your blood. Not your fire or your battles or your broken bones. I don’t know who you think I am to you… but the way you speak to me—as if I owe you something for your pain…”

She shook her head.

“It’s really… reeeally unsettling.”

And she meant it.

Genuinely.

Her voice was laced not with anger—but with that kind of deep, aching discomfort one feels when a stranger calls them “mine.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t be whatever it is you’ve built up in your head. That girl? That perfect queen in your head? That’s not me. I’m sorry….”

The silence that followed was excruciating.

Subaru, fists clenched at his sides, said nothing—but his presence behind Emilia was louder than any words. His gaze was steady, but his eyes betrayed fury. Fury for her. Fury for everything this “other him” represented.

Pride stood motionless, his rage leaking from clenched fists and heaving breath. But there was something else now… a crack. A splinter in his foundation.

She didn’t owe him anything.

She never asked for his pain.

The realization struck harder than any blow, and for the first time, Pride stumbled— physically. His foot slid back against the marble floor of the chapel, his balance faltering as if the world itself had tipped sideways under the weight of her words. The rage, the pride, the manufactured superiority—it cracked in an instant.

And behind it… just a hollow, reeling mess of a man.

He nearly collapsed under the pressure.

But before his knees could hit the ground, she was there.

Elsa moved with terrifying speed, her arm catching him from behind, pulling him back into the firm warmth of her body. His head rested against her chest, his breath ragged, disbelief still quaking in his limbs. Her hand stroked through his dark hair once, steadying, possessive.

“I’ve got you~,” she whispered, the softness of her voice in jarring contrast to the storm rising in the room.

The tension was immediate.

Dogu’s eyes snapped to Emilia. She had been still before—watching, confused, concerned—but now? Now the spirit of flame ignited.

“You ungrateful wench! ” she spat, each word like a spark lighting a wildfire.

The temperature of the cathedral surged violently, the stained glass beginning to warp in its frames, candles melting in seconds. The sacred air turned suffocating.

“You think you can wound him with your words and walk away like nothing happened? Like you haven’t just spat on everything he’s given—everything he’s endured!?”

Her form burned brighter, and her body flickered with the kind of heat that made even stone tremble.

Subaru stepped in front of Emilia on instinct, shielding her with his own body, but even he was sweating now. The air was too heavy, too hot—like they were standing on the edge of a volcano mid-eruption.

“I no longer care what happens to me,” Dogu hissed, eyes glowing crimson as she raised a single, burning hand and pointed it squarely at Emilia.

“I will grind you down until not even ashes remain.”

Behind her, Pride said nothing. His expression was unreadable. Confused? Enraged? Broken? It was impossible to tell.

But Dogu? Dogu was all fire, all fury, and no restraint.

“My Master does not deserve an insolent half-witch who refuses to recognize sacrifice!” Dogu howled, her voice now indistinguishable from the roar of a wildfire. The flames wreathing her body surged higher, crackling and snapping with lethal heat. The marble tiles beneath her feet blackened and cracked, smoke rising in lazy tendrils toward the vaulted ceiling.

But her rage blinded her.

She didn’t see the blonde-haired spirit—small, determined, deadly—standing behind her with a focused expression and a forming mana spear the color of royal amethyst.

Beatrice’s voice was a whisper compared to Dogu’s thunder, but the intent behind it was unshakable. “You hurt Subaru. You hurt everyone. I don’t care what you think you’re protecting.”

The purple stake condensed in a heartbeat and fired like a bolt from the gods, perfectly aimed for the fire spirit’s exposed abdomen.

But just as it was about to hit—

“ Fiery Onee-san!! ”

A blur of blue barreled into Dogu from the side with the force of a charging beast. Meili’s small frame slammed into the flame spirit, knocking them both hard against the stone floor. The blast of the stake missed them by inches, carving a deep hole in the far wall with a deafening impact.

The silence afterward was stark.

“…M-Meili?” Dogu gasped, blinking rapidly as the haze of battle rage began to lift.

She could already smell it—the horrible scent of scorched flesh—and when she looked down, her worst fears were realized. Meili’s arms were wrapped around her torso, but the places where their skin touched were already raw and red, blisters forming at a horrifying speed.

“No—no, no, Meili, why would you—?!”

She reached to pull away, afraid to do any more damage, but Meili just held on tighter.

“You’re really so stupid sometimes, you know…” Meili said with a small, pained smile, her voice wobbling but brave. “Even if you’re scary or angry, I still like you, Onee-san… So just calm down already, okaaay~?”

Tears welled in the fire spirit’s glowing eyes. “You… idiot. You absolute idiot. I could’ve killed you. You should’ve just run away…”

But Meili shook her head against Dogu’s shoulder. “And let you burn everything down? That’s not what sisters do.”

Something in those words cracked whatever shell Dogu had encased herself in. The flames that had been surging now began to die down, retreating back into her skin like an ebbing tide. The unbearable heat in the chapel dipped, and the air—while still heavy—was finally breathable again.

She cradled Meili gently now, frantic, almost whispering, over and over.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”

The small girl just smiled, eyes half-lidded, but still sparkling with warmth. Despite the burns, despite the danger, she looked happier than anyone else in the room.

In the corner, Pride finally stirred.

His eyes opened slowly, a flicker of lucidity returning to them—along with a familiar sharpness. His gaze flicked down to Elsa’s arms, to where she still held him. There was a subtle but distinct twitch in his jaw, a mix of embarrassment and resentment crawling across his face. He sneered, not at her, but at himself.

“Damnit…” he muttered under his breath.

Elsa said nothing—she just smiled. Not the cruel, sadistic grin she wore in battle, but a strange, soft one. The kind of smile someone wears when watching a storm pass.

Pulling himself from her grasp, Pride rose to his feet with a weary grace. His coat swayed behind him, the steps he took forward unsteady, but getting stronger with each stride.

He walked toward the spirit and Meili.

The spirit was no longer burning, but still warm—had been holding her sister like a lifeline. Her arms curled protectively, the scorched scent still lingering faintly on the air. Meili, ever defiant of logic or self-preservation, had buried herself in the warmth, a faint grin playing on her lips even as she trembled from the heat.

However the spirit kept whispering apologies.

“I’m so sorry, I—”

Then her senses sharpened—her Master was near. She turned her head and saw him. Fully. Watching.

And like a child caught in a vulnerable moment, her entire posture shifted.

She straightened up. Not because she was unashamed, but because she was. And ashamed of being so exposed, so raw, so… human.

“M-Master, I—”

“Don’t speak.”

His tone was even.

“I don’t need a justification.”

Her mouth shut immediately. Her stomach churned. Oh no.

Oh no.

He was mad. She’d embarrassed him—acted like a child in front of everyone. All her control, her maturity, shattered in an instant. She should’ve been better. Stronger. Stoic. She—

“Spica.”

His voice cut through her spiraling thoughts like a breeze in fire. She blinked. Confused.

“…What?”

“That’s your name now. Spica.”

For a moment, there was only stunned silence. Her mouth hung open. The fire-spirit’s expression blanked, almost like her mind short-circuited.

“A… name…?” she repeated, dumbfounded. “Master, I thought— I don’t need a—”

“Don’t question it,” he interrupted again, but this time… there was no bite. No malice. Just finality.

“Just accept it.”

Spica opened her mouth again, then closed it. Her lip trembled. Slowly, she looked down at Meili, who was watching her with a lopsided grin and teary eyes.

“…Spica…” she whispered.

Pride watched her reaction without expression, but the very act—the giving of a name—spoke volumes for those who understood him. Pride did not name tools. He did not name weapons.

He named people.

Spica stared down at her hands, whispering the name under her breath.

“…Spica…”

It felt like something fragile. Something precious.

And for the first time in her life, it was hers.