Flugel clapped his hands. The sharp sound cut through the silence, filling the air like a heavy curtain being drawn shut. The atmosphere quivered, as though the final line of a long and relentless tale had finally been written. From the shadows rippled a faint vibration, sealing the moment with an undeniable weight, like the closing of a door that would never open again.
"And that… is the whole story. Thank you for your contribution, Puck." His voice carried neither triumph nor relief—only inevitability. It was the sound of someone tying off the end of a thread that had run for too long.
Puck's gaze wandered, as if drawn to memories no one else could see. Seven years of silence, struggle, and hidden truth pressed down on him like invisible chains. Each word he forced out seemed to tug those chains tighter around his small frame. Still, his voice, though delicate, was steady.
"It's fine, master. I did what had to be done."
The calmness in that tiny voice soothed the oppressive weight in the chamber, if only for a fleeting second. Yet Geuse's silence persisted like a blade hanging over them all. His lips quivered, forming words that died before they could escape. His mind rang with echoes, every syllable crashing against the walls of his chest until they turned into stones sinking into his heart. The helplessness carved into his eyes was unmistakable, a shadow of doubt that seemed too heavy to dispel.
Flugel slowly shook his head, his expression unreadable. His eyes shifted between the two, dissecting every subtle shift of emotion. For him, peeling away their thoughts and fears was as easy as breathing. Finally, he exhaled a long, measured breath, and when he spoke, his voice had the weight of command.
"Dawn is close in the real world. We should be on our way."
The words seemed to stretch into the silence, resonating with finality. His gaze turned deliberately to Puck, his eyes radiating a certainty that admitted no room for hesitation.
"As we agreed… you will lift the seal you placed on little Lia. It's time."
The words struck like a decree, not a request. Then Flugel shifted his attention, sparing the briefest glance at Geuse. He did not speak, yet that single look was like a blade pressed against Geuse's throat: silent but cutting, filled with expectations too clear to ignore. It was enough to remind him of what he had already decided long ago, though every fiber of his being still trembled against it.
Puck bit down on his lip, his small frame trembling. His tiny fists clenched, as though gripping against the resistance building inside him, a storm of emotions he could not let surface. The silence stretched until it threatened to break him. At last, he bowed his head, movements slow, reluctant. This was not agreement born of free will; it was surrender under the weight of inevitability. A reluctant obedience. For him, there was no path left but this.
And thus, the tribunal ended. Shadows stirred, rising like a suffocating fog that coiled around the three figures. In moments, they were swallowed whole, their shapes erased from sight as though they had never stood there at all. What remained were only echoes, faint and fragile, like the aftertaste of a dream already slipping away.
The first golden strands of dawn reached across the sky, spilling into the room where Subaru lay. Light brushed his face, forcing his eyelids to twitch. His brow furrowed against the glow, as if resisting the morning itself. His rest had been shallow, his spirit shackled as though iron chains dragged behind every breath. Even as his eyes cracked open, the heavy fatigue clung to his body, trying to hold him down.
But all of that vanished in a heartbeat. His gaze fell upon Emilia's black-violet eyes, staring down at him with an expression twisted between gentleness and something unnervingly fragile. The sight jolted Subaru awake as though plunged into ice water. His heart tightened, thundering in his chest with an unspoken fear.
"Emilia… good morning," he whispered, raising his head slowly from her lap. His words carried both wonder and unease, the question unspoken but heavy in the air.
Her lips curved into a delicate smile, so frail it seemed it might break. The faint redness beneath her eyes betrayed hours without rest, and the tired gleam within them was covered by her attempt at warmth.
"Good morning, Subaru! You slept like a baby. Watching you… it was so much fun." Her voice trembled with cheer, though it clung to something deeper, something more fragile.
Subaru's brows drew together, an uneasy pressure tightening in his chest. He searched her expression, but the answer only unsettled him further.
"Wait… you mean to tell me you stayed awake the entire night? Just… watching me?"
Emilia's nod was firm, unwavering. In her luminous eyes sparkled a strange light, a hint of fixation that made Subaru's breath catch.
"Yes! I didn't blink even once, Subaru. Not a moment."
The words struck him like a chill draft. Subaru lifted his hands to his temples, rubbing hard as though trying to push the weight of it away, then exhaled a deep, strained breath.
"Oh, God, Mili… you can't keep doing this. You're going to sleep right now. I don't want to hear a single protest."
Her lips pressed together, curling into a pout as her brows furrowed with childlike stubbornness.
"But Subaru… what about the trial? What if—"
Subaru cut her off, his tone sharp but not unkind, carrying the edge of his determination.
"Forget the trial! The only thing you need right now is rest. That's all. The world can wait, everything else can wait. You can't go on like this."
With deliberate care, he placed a hand on her shoulder and gently but firmly guided her back onto the bed. She murmured small protests, her voice faint and wavering, but Subaru refused to bend. He drew a chair close, dragging it to the side of the bed before sitting heavily into it, his eyes never leaving hers.
The silence between them grew softer, warmer. In that stillness, Subaru felt something within him settle. Though the dangers ahead remained, though uncertainty loomed beyond the fragile peace of this room, for now, he could do this one thing. He could sit, and watch, and guard the fragile girl in front of him. And within that simple act, he found a quiet comfort—the reassurance that, at least for this fleeting moment, he was keeping her safe.
Time stretched onward with a languid weight, as though the very air in the room thickened with each passing second. At first, Emilia resisted the pull of sleep with all the fragile stubbornness she could muster. Her lashes trembled, her lips parted in faint protests that carried no strength. She whispered as though words alone could hold her tethered to consciousness, but slumber was merciless. Bit by bit, the fight drained out of her. Her breathing steadied, her body relaxed. Within less than an hour, she slipped entirely into deep rest, her face softening into a peaceful expression that seemed almost fragile in the dim glow of the room. Subaru, who had been quietly observing every twitch of her eyelids, allowed himself a faint smile and a single, slow nod. This time, the victory was his.
Rising from his place, he moved toward the door with careful, measured steps, unwilling to disturb her. Yet even as his hand hovered over the handle, a restless thought dug its claws into his mind. What on earth am I supposed to do with Emilia acting this way—clinging, unyielding, like some kind of yandere out of a nightmare? His brow furrowed at the absurdity of it, but his chest felt heavier all the same.
It was at that exact moment a voice, heavy and unshakably familiar, rolled out from the shadows.
"I already handled that."
Subaru's heart slammed against his ribs, his pulse skipping a beat. He whirled around in a panic, his eyes darting toward the source. And there he was—Flugel. Reclining lazily in a chair as though it belonged to him, his posture loose, but his presence dominating the room with uncomfortable ease. His lips were curled into a mischievous smirk, both playful and sinister in its undertones. With casual indifference, he tossed a crystal into the air, catching it again and again while sparks of light danced across his irises. Perched in silence on his shoulder was the rightful owner of that crystal—Puck, whose tiny form carried an aura of reluctant complicity.
A taut line of tension appeared across Subaru's face. His words came sharp, betraying both irritation and unease. "Master… would you please stop barging into my home like it's your personal playground?"
Flugel's smirk deepened, his eyes catching the dim light with dangerous amusement. "No. Because watching this unfold is far too entertaining." The casual cruelty in his tone carried the weight of someone who had already decided his amusement was reason enough.
Puck shifted slightly, his small body leaning forward as he released a long, weary sigh. Even bound within such a miniature frame, the sense of resignation he exuded was profound. He seemed less like an active participant and more like a witness to an inevitable current, one who already knew resistance was meaningless.
Subaru narrowed his eyes, tilting his head as suspicion and reluctant awe mixed in his gaze. "So you actually managed to break the seal…" His voice trembled with both admiration for the feat and the unease it conjured. His chest tightened with each thud of his heart; to see such a powerful lock undone so easily was both inspiring and terrifying.
Flugel rose with slow, deliberate movements, like a storm cloud expanding to swallow the entire horizon. His presence grew heavier until it filled every corner of the room, his long shadow cascading over Subaru like a curtain of inevitability. "You know, you're supposed to be the protagonist in all this,"
Flugel remarked, his voice half a sneer, half a tired jest. "And yet somehow I'm the one doing the hard work. My role is meant to be nothing more than the mysterious, overwhelmingly powerful figure lurking in the background, isn't it?" His words carried both humor and weariness, but the sting of truth ran deep. With a sudden, dazzling flare of light, he thrust the crystal forward, holding it out for Subaru.
"Don't make me spend more effort than I already have. I'm not in the mood to carry you any further than necessary."
Subaru met his gaze with a strained grin, stubbornness flickering through the fatigue on his face. His hands trembled slightly as he accepted the crystal, a wave of conflicting emotions flooding him—gratitude mixed with doubt, reassurance laced with dread. "Thanks… I guess? Though forgive me for asking, oh great sage, but is there any chance you'll tell me what else you've been meddling with?" His voice wavered as curiosity wrestled with fear, the thin edge of nervousness bleeding through despite his effort to sound composed.
Flugel clicked his tongue, shaking his head in feigned disappointment, though his piercing gaze never left Subaru. "Your sense of gratitude is atrocious… but fine. I'll indulge you a little longer." With that, another crystal shimmered into existence within his palm. Its light pulsed outward, casting long, writhing shadows that crept along the walls as though alive, warping the air with a suffocating presence.
Subaru's eyes locked onto it, his brows knitting into a hard frown. "And what is that supposed to be?" His voice was low, thick with unease, as though he could already sense the calamity housed within.
The silence of the room deepened until it threatened to crush him. Then, piercing through it like the clean cut of a blade, Yue's voice rang out—delicate yet unwavering. "Subaru… that is another great spirit." Her words resonated within him, accompanied by a chill that crawled down his spine.
Flugel's grin widened, the gleam in his eyes growing sharper, brighter. "Yes, little Yue is correct. What I hold here… is none other than Petelgeuse."
The name struck Subaru like a physical blow. His face contorted, his pupils contracted into pinpoints, and his breath hitched painfully in his throat. He staggered backward a step, his hands tightening instinctively around the first crystal. "The Sin Archbishop of Sloth?! Why would you ever consider reviving him?!" His voice cracked under the weight of fury tangled with raw fear.
Flugel lowered his gaze to the crystal, the mischief on his lips giving way to something heavier, more somber. His eyes seemed to sink inward, as though staring into the abyss of memory. "Geuse is no longer the Archbishop of Sloth," he said evenly. "I stripped him of the Authority. What remains is not a Sin Archbishop but merely a high-ranking earth spirit. And lest you forget—he holds significance for little Lia. Did I neglect to mention that?" His words fell calmly, but with each syllable, the implications pressed harder and harder on Subaru's chest, until it felt like the weight of the revelation alone might suffocate him.
Subaru rubbed his temples, releasing a weary sigh that carried the weight of his impatience.
"Yeah, I know a thing or two about this… Anyway. 'Geuse'—he must mean a lot to you if you went through all this trouble to bring him back. That much is obvious. But I'm starting to get bored, so can we skip to the important part already?" His words rang out in a tone that tried to sound calm, almost indifferent. Yet beneath that mask, his chest was tight, every second stretching under the pressure of an unspoken anxiety that clawed at him.
Across the room, Puck remained faithfully by Emilia's side. He had been silent for a long while, his small body nestled close to her as if guarding her fragile slumber. Each rise and fall of her chest made his expression soften, his usually playful eyes shadowed with a tenderness that seemed endless. For a brief moment, his gaze lifted, meeting Flugel's unblinking eyes. The connection lasted only an instant, but in that instant, the atmosphere thickened; the stillness of the chamber deepened until it felt as though the entire world had slowed, every tick of time frozen in suspense.
Finally, Flugel's voice cut through the silence. "In short… Puck will remove the seal inside little Lia's memories. That's all. Summed it up nicely, didn't I?" His tone was casual, yet beneath the surface, a sly hint of mockery crept into his words, as if daring Subaru to protest.
Subaru remained silent. His jaw tensed, his teeth pressing together, and his gaze shifted sharply away from Flugel. Fixing his eyes instead on Emilia and Puck, he forced himself to push down the storm of unease rising inside. His arms folded tightly across his chest, as though bracing himself against an invisible wind.
Then Puck moved. With a paw delicate as snow, he pressed gently against Emilia's head. The effect was instantaneous: the air around them shivered, rippling outward in an unseen wave. Before their eyes, a luminous seal surfaced, twisting upward like a flame suspended in the void. Its structure resembled a tapestry of threads—thousands woven together—yet most had already burned away, reduced to brittle husks of ash. The few that remained were drenched in a viscous, tar-like darkness, clinging to them like rot. The sight radiated corruption so foul it threatened to curdle the stomach.
Puck's first reaction was visceral revulsion; he nearly turned his eyes away. But he steadied himself, breath hissing softly between his teeth, and reached out again. At the tip of his paw, glimmering shards of ice coalesced, forming long, crystalline digits that reached into the seal's web. As his magic surged, a torrent of bitter cold poured forth from Emilia's body. It was not just air—it was as though the room itself had become a living vessel, breathing in rhythm with the release of her mana. Beneath the bed, translucent blossoms unfurled, their stems thin and fragile, their petals etched in frost. They were flowers of ice, each one glittering like a fragment of a frozen dream, casting their pale glow across the chamber.
Minute by minute, the temperature collapsed. The windowpanes grew pale as frost clawed across their surfaces, layer upon layer of ice branching like veins of crystal. Along the walls, delicate buds of frozen blossoms pushed their way into existence, blooming in silence. The cold thickened, rolling through the room like a spectral mist that stung the lungs and gnawed at the marrow. It seeped into Subaru's bones, numbing him, making the air feel as though it had been imprisoned in a single, unmoving instant.
Subaru hugged himself tightly, shivering as his lips faded into a dull shade of blue. His teeth rattled with every breath, his voice weak but stubborn as he muttered through the mist. "Brr… I almost forgot how monstrous Mili's mana can be." Each word emerged as a small cloud, the steam of his breath vanishing into the ice-bound stillness.
All the while, Puck bore down on the seal, his eyes narrowing in sharp concentration. The shards of ice at his paw flared brighter, like a constellation burning in miniature. With one final surge of effort, the seal cracked apart. Then, with a deafening silence, it shattered completely. The room convulsed as the release detonated: a storm of freezing energy surged outward, lashing across the chamber with the force of a tidal wave. The flowers shuddered violently, shards of glittering ice spiraling upward in a dazzling dance. For an eternal second, it was as though the air itself was singing a hymn of frost—before, at once, all motion died.
The blossoms froze mid-bloom. Shards hung suspended in the air, unmoving, before they descended with ghostly slowness. The suffocating cold ebbed into serenity. Stillness reclaimed the chamber, a silence so profound it felt as if time itself had abandoned them. Subaru gasped, his chest aching with the weight of the icy air. A single thought carved itself deep into his mind: If this is only the beginning… what kind of nightmare is waiting at the end?
Then, in Flugel's hands, the crystal flared. Its light swelled, blinding and unyielding, then crumbled into fragments that evaporated like embers in the night. As the glow subsided, a new figure remained in its place: a man, tall and lean, with cascading green hair and a robe of deep violet. Geuse. His presence alone bent the air around him, demanding silence. For several breaths, none dared to move. It was as if every lung in the room had forgotten how to function.
Slowly, painfully, Geuse's eyes opened. His lashes fluttered as though dragging themselves free from centuries of slumber. His first words were fragile, faltering. "H-hello?" His voice wavered like a candle's flame. His gaze stumbled toward Subaru, suspicion flickering briefly in the furrow of his brow, but his attention was swiftly stolen by the figure behind him. Emilia. His breath caught in his throat. His entire being seemed to lurch toward her.
The sight struck him like lightning. His chest heaved, each inhale sharper, each exhale trembling. His knees buckled, pulling him to the floor with no resistance as he half-stumbled, half-fell to her side. He reached out with hands that shook violently, fingers aching to bridge the distance between them. "I-it's… Emilia? She's… grown so much…" His words fractured under the weight of his emotions, heavy with awe and desperate yearning. His voice cracked, suffused with a longing that had survived the grave itself, and tears welled in his eyes until they spilled, unrestrained, down his cheeks. No mask could veil what overflowed in that moment: love, grief, and a devotion so fierce it threatened to consume him.
Subaru narrowed his eyes slightly as he watched the scene unfold, but he said nothing. Why are you here? So sudden… so unexpected. He buried his doubts, choosing silence, yet in the depths of his mind a scream echoed endlessly. This man… friend or foe? The weight in his chest deepened, pressing harder with every passing moment. His fingers curled and uncurled at his sides, an unconscious gesture that betrayed his inner turmoil. He wanted to shout, to demand answers, but instinct told him silence was the only shield he had right now.
Flugel, meanwhile, stood apart, eyes closed, arms folded across his chest as he leaned against the wall. His expression was indifferent, as though none of it mattered. He always carried himself that way—aloof, detached, a man who never explained and never appeared to care. Yet Subaru knew there had to be something behind that silence. Nothing about Flugel was without reason. And so his muteness only thickened the room's already suffocating air, turning each breath into a labor. Even the faint creak of the wooden floor seemed loud beneath the pressure of his quiet.
Puck, however, could not bear the sight. His gaze was locked on Geuse, burning with hatred. The small spirit's fur bristled, his entire body vibrating with a suppressed rage. A chill spread through the room, not from words but from the ice-like aura seeping quietly from his tiny frame. The cold was not meant to wound, but to warn: a silent threat. Each pulse of that icy intent brushed against Subaru's skin, reminding him that Puck was more than a companion—he was a force of nature, leashed only by affection. Subaru's chest tightened; he had seen Puck's wrath before, and the mere memory of it could freeze blood.
Geuse, trembling, reached out and clasped Emilia's delicate hand. His fingers shook, his eyes brimming with tears that quickly spilled down his cheeks. "This time… I will protect you. I swear it. Even if it costs me my life." His voice trembled with conviction and grief, and as the tears fell, they carried years of regret, of despair, of an unwavering devotion that could no longer be contained. The way his shoulders shook, the way his breath stuttered, spoke of a man who had lived too long in chains of guilt. Subaru watched in silence, but his throat tightened with words he dared not say.
Hours later.
Time dragged with an oppressive slowness. The sky outside shifted from gray to black, stars pricking faintly in the distance, but inside the room, nothing seemed to change. Subaru had grown weary of waiting, his restlessness gnawing at him like a splinter he could not pull free. To pass the time, he lingered with his sister and Beatrice, while Puck and Geuse remained fixed at Emilia's bedside like solemn guardians. Puck's icy aura had dulled into a simmering chill, but his watchfulness never faltered. Geuse, by contrast, stayed bowed, clutching Emilia's hand with a devotion that seemed almost prayer-like.
Flugel's presence was as elusive as ever—appearing in fleeting glimpses, then fading like mist into the shadows. Sometimes Subaru caught sight of him, arms crossed and lips twisted in a ghost of a smile, before he vanished again as though the darkness itself had swallowed him. His existence was a question without answer, and that ambiguity gnawed at Subaru more than any spoken threat could have.
Subaru sat behind Beatrice, his fingers carefully weaving through her long hair. He worked with a focus uncharacteristic of his usual joking self, adjusting strands with patience. Each movement felt deliberate, almost therapeutic, as if by taming her hair he could soothe his own restlessness. Beatrice squirmed, a small groan escaping her lips as her eyes narrowed in protest. "you're pulling Betty's hair too much I suppose!" she huffed, voice tinged with a mix of annoyance and embarrassment.
Subaru chuckled softly, not pausing in his work. "Relax, Beako. Didn't you say you were tired of your usual style? I'm just giving you something new for once." His voice was calm, teasing, yet his eyes betrayed how much care he was putting into the simple task.
Beatrice pouted, arms crossing as she muttered. "Subaru always fusses over Hikari these days. Betty deserves attention too!" Her tone dripped with petulance, but beneath it lay something genuine, a faint need for acknowledgment that Subaru couldn't ignore.
His laughter bubbled out as his fingers moved deftly. "Oi, don't pout. I treat you both fairly. Just because I braid Hikari's hair sometimes doesn't mean I neglect you, Beako. Besides, you've been stubborn about changing your look until now." He tapped her head lightly, a gesture of reassurance hidden in jest.
Beatrice grumbled a little longer, but her complaints faded as Subaru tied off the last strands. He braided two small sections from the sides, joining them neatly at the back, leaving the rest to flow freely. The style softened her features, making her look both elegant and endearing. Subaru stepped back slightly, studying her with a craftsman's satisfaction.
Beatrice stood and spun once, her dress swishing lightly. Subaru's eyes lit up, his hands clapping together in admiration. "Beako, you look adorable!"
A satisfied smile spread across her face as she drew in a proud breath. "Hehe! Betty doesn't feel like the same Betty anymore I suppose!" Her voice carried both amusement and pride, as if such a small change had opened the door to a brand-new world. For just a moment, the heaviness in the room lifted, replaced by the fragile light of a child's joy.
At that moment, Hikari entered the room. Her eyes widened the moment she saw Beatrice, and she rushed forward, covering her mouth in delight. "Ara~ Beako, you look so cute!" she exclaimed, her hands already reaching to play with the braids. Her playful fingers slipped through the strands as Beatrice flushed pink, torn between embarrassment and the warmth of being admired. The contrast between her stubborn protests and the faint smile tugging at her lips made Subaru laugh even harder.
Subaru burst out laughing. "hey Who exactly are you trying to imitate with that voice, little lady?"
Hikari smirked mischievously, her eyes glinting like a fox that had just stolen a hen. "I'm just trying to sound like someone noble, onii-chan. Ram-nee taught me a few things about the capital and the aristocrats." Her tone dripped with parody, as though she found amusement in mocking everything she'd learned. She raised her chin dramatically, puffing out her chest like a pompous lord, making the performance even more ridiculous.
Subaru raised a brow, lips curving into a grin. "Oh? And what exactly did you learn?" He leaned forward, genuinely curious to hear the antics she would come up with.
With a dramatic sigh, Hikari shrugged, shoulders rising and falling with exaggerated flair. "Mostly that nobles are boring, self-important people with too much money. But… it was fun pretending." Her innocent curiosity glowed in her eyes, though her words carried the faintest hint of playful scorn. She twirled on her heel as if she were still acting the part, her laughter filling the once-heavy air with brightness.
Subaru pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. "Of course… I should've expected nothing less from Ram." His sigh carried both exasperation and fondness. Then, almost unconsciously, he let his eyes linger on the two girls—his sister with her mocking grin, Beatrice with her hesitant pride. A smile tugged at his lips, small but genuine.
Maybe these little moments of laughter… these fleeting sparks of joy… are the only real breaths of air we get in the middle of so much darkness. The thought echoed in his heart, fragile yet grounding. And though the shadows of uncertainty still loomed around them, for that single instant, the room felt warmer, alive with the kind of hope that only came from family and fleeting happiness.