Scar's lips tugged into a smile that looked far too easy, far too entertained by their unease. In his hands was another page, delicate and almost childlike, contrasting cruelly with his presence.
"The lambs reveled in endless bonfire parties, celebrating their new god every night…" Scar's voice lilted, carrying a storybook cadence, "except… the one little black lamb."
Rover's lips parted slightly, her brow knitting as she listened. The words felt heavy, uncomfortably familiar. Her grip tightened.
Scar's eyes lingered on her before darting lazily to Jeff.
"As each night passed, it was the only one to notice how its flock was dwindling away. Rover, Jeff… do you really think someone would give you what you want without taking anything from you?"
Jeff exhaled slowly, his voice firm but calm. "I believe in quid pro quo." His jaw clenched, betraying the tension he tried to mask.
Scar chuckled under his breath, the sound hollow and sharp. "Hehe… I once believed that too. Thought as long as I paid a high enough price, I could get my desired outcome. But true equality…" His smile faltered for just a heartbeat, his gaze darkening. "…is scarce. Always has been."
Rover took a cautious step forward, her blade lifting slightly. "What are you trying to say?" Her voice was steady, but her eyes betrayed unease, like she was piecing together fragments of an unseen puzzle.
"The world was never fair." Scar's tone sharpened, his words falling like cold rain. "To receive equal retribution, one must give more, and more… and more." His hand gestured absently, as though weighing invisible scales. "When every wish comes with a hefty price, people weigh their options carefully. But when they can make someone else bear the price…"
His lips curved again, cruel amusement spreading across his face. "They all rush to make more wishes. They don't consider they too may one day pay for another's selfish desire. Funny, isn't it?"
The silence that followed was suffocating.
They pressed on. The walls of the derelict homes bore scrawled words—thick, jagged, desperate. MONSTER. WITCH. BANISH HER. ALL HER FAULT. The markings seemed alive under the torchlight, screaming stories of fear and betrayal.
Another page lay on the ground, edges torn, the image of a black lamb smudged with dirt.
Scar's voice returned, soft but cutting.
"Later, the shepherd openly blamed the black lamb for the flock's decline. On the next day, the white lambs welcomed the rising sun as usual, but the black lamb was nowhere to be found."
Rover's throat tightened. She touched the wall with her free hand, fingers tracing the etched word WITCH, her expression darkening.
Scar tilted his head, studying her, his smirk widening. "The shepherd introduced an unspoken rule to this village, one that our black lamb violated by telling the truth. Suddenly, the once doting 'god' stopped fulfilling wishes, because no more sacrifices were being made. After witnessing the black lamb's actions, and hearing from their almighty shepherd…" He paused, voice dropping into a whisper that crawled under their skin. "What do you suppose the white lambs did?"
His eyes glittered as his tone rose again, mocking, venomous. "Ah, those oblivious lambs. Little did they know, the most fearsome demon was right under their noses."
Rover's lips pressed into a thin line, her chest rising and falling as she struggled to keep her composure. Jeff's hand hovered near his pistol again wanting to shut this guy up.
Scar only smiled wider.
"Well done," he drawled, his voice like velvet laced with knives. "You didn't let a single detail slip." He leaned forward, resting an elbow against his knee, tilting his head as if savoring the moment. "Now tell me—what's your takeaway from this story? Who was the real culprit behind the diminishing number of lambs?"
Rover tightened her grip on her blade, the faint sheen of sweat at her temple betraying her nerves. Her eyes flickered with conviction, though, when she spoke.
"The shepherd," she said quietly, but firmly.
Scar's smile deepened, as though pleased she hadn't faltered. "Indeed. The direct culprit was the shepherd. He held all the power, fulfilling wishes at a price. The lambs knew the risks, yet… they succumbed to temptation." He spoke almost wistfully, like a man retelling a tragedy he'd already seen a hundred times.
Jeff shifted where he stood, his pistol loosely dangling at his side. His brows furrowed as his voice cut through the tension. "The white lambs," he said.
Scar's eyes snapped to him. A low chuckle escaped his lips. "Brilliant answer." His smirk widened, sharp and wolfish. "You saw past the obvious. The true culprit was not the shepherd, but the white lambs who chose to follow his rules. He never forced them. He merely… offered them a choice." Scar spread his hands, his tone dripping with mock innocence. "No one would have died if they had simply refrained from making wishes. Their greed— their indifference—sealed their fate."
The flames from a nearby brazier sputtered, casting a brief, wavering glow across Rover's face. She pressed her lips together, her knuckles whitening on the hilt of her sword.
Scar's eyes glittered as he leaned closer. "Now, my second question: what price did the lambs pay for their wishes?"
"Their lives," Jeff said flatly, his jaw set, voice as steady as steel.
Scar laughed, the sound low and dark. "Of course. Life was the most valuable thing they had to offer." His gaze shifted back to Rover, as if eager to test her resolve.
"Everything they owned," she offered, her voice carrying a sharp edge of defiance.
Scar scoffed, shaking his head, his pale hair brushing against his cheek. "But that's what they wanted in the first place, little lamb. Why would they trade wealth for a wish, when they were already risking life itself?"
Rover's brows furrowed as she took a step forward, her voice steadying. "Their sincerity."
Scar's laughter softened to a purr. "Ah, sincerity. Yes, they must have poured their hearts into it. But sincerity…" He tilted his head mockingly. "That's not much of a price, is it?"
His eyes narrowed suddenly, the mirth vanishing. "Now, my final question. What happened to the black lamb?" He dragged out the words like a hunter savoring the chase, his smile curling into something cruel. "Don't rush,Take your time."
The silence stretched. Rover's chest rose and fell, her expression hardening as the answer crystallized in her mind. When she finally spoke, her voice was low, almost trembling, but steady with conviction.
"It was murdered… by its flock. And the shepherd."
Jeff stepped up beside her, his own voice cutting like a blade. "The shepherd was granting wishes by sacrificing the lives of lambs. The flock discovered the truth… but instead of resisting, they became his accomplices. They offered up the black lamb willingly—as another sacrifice."
Scar's laugh rang out, sharp and chilling, echoing through the field. He clapped his hands once, slow and deliberate. "Hahaha… that's right! You've got quite the knack for this, Jeff." His crimson eyes glinted with something dangerous, like a predator recognizing a kindred spirit.
Rover, though, caught the flicker of amusement lingering in his smile—and for a moment, she wasn't sure if she felt pride at having answered correctly… or fear at the satisfaction it brought him.
"Little lambs cowered and huddled in their village," he began, his voice carrying like a sermon through the broken village. He walked slowly, deliberately, his boots crunching on the ash. "Terrified of the relentless wolf packs… until a shepherd arrived, bearing the gift of wishes and providing shelter and sustenance."
Rover's fists tightened. Her chest rose and fell with each breath, but her eyes didn't leave him. His storytelling wasn't for himself. It was for them—psychological daggers sharpened into every word.
"Slowly, the shepherd gained control…" Scar's grin widened, the firelight catching on his teeth, "…but the story didn't end there. The shepherd found the solitary black lamb…" He stopped mid-step, gaze flicking toward Rover with something wicked glimmering in his crimson eyes. "And offered it a wish. In exchange? One of its companions."
Jeff shifted beside her, pistol drawn, his stance unwavering but his brow furrowed. He muttered under his breath, almost to himself, Don't let him get in your head.
Scar's voice turned silky, venom wrapped in velvet. "The black lamb refused, of course. And so it was shunned. Banished. Left without food, without warmth… without love." His chuckle was low, taunting. "And when more lambs disappeared, who did the shepherd blame?"
"The black lamb," Rover whispered, her grip trembling against her blade.
Scar's gaze sharpened, catching that tremor. He licked his teeth in amusement. "Yes. That brave little lamb got in the way. Interfered with the shepherd's game. And for that, it earned the hatred of its flock." His words rose like a storm, his voice echoing. "Until, one day, they could no longer ignore the blood soaking their pasture."
Scar spread his arms wide, as if the battlefield itself belonged to him. "How do you like my story, Rover? Jeff?" His grin turned wolfish. "The innocent maiden sacrificed. The villagers turned on each other in a frenzy. They had it coming."
Rover stepped forward, eyes narrowed, blade raised. "Is that why you became a shepherd?" she asked, her voice low, steadying despite the adrenaline roaring in her ears.
Scar tilted his head back and laughed, sharp and mirthless. "A fun answer, but no. I was never the shepherd." He leaned in, his crimson eyes boring into hers. "Never will be. You, Jeff, and I… we are the black lambs. The ones who break the rules."
Jeff's jaw tightened. He steadied his gun, voice cold. "He who fights too long against dragons becomes a dragon himself." and if you gaze too long into the abyss, the abyss will gaze into you.
-Friedrich Nietzsche
Scar's laugh turned wild, echoing in the ruins. "Hahaha… interesting, Jeff! I'm liking you more and more!" His grin sharpened into a predator's snarl. "Well then—let's see if this black lamb ends up like you say!"
The ground cracked, the battlefield shifting into chaos. Both Rover and Jeff find themselves transported to Scar's dimension.
They fought their way across the broken Elysium. Each grapple point was a dance with death—Scar's mocking voice never far behind, like a phantom whisper in the smoke.
"Oh? You've found us already?" His laugh cut through the clang of steel as shadows surged toward them.
The first wave of Tacit Discords came, shrieking out of the darkness. Rover's blade sang as it sliced through them, her face flushed, teeth clenched, strands of hair sticking to her damp forehead. Jeff covered her flank with precise shots, his sharp eyes narrowed, lips pressed into a grim line.
Scar's voice slithered through the din.
"Shake and shiver, blink an eye, a flock of lambs comes passing by. Fleece of white, black and red… tell me, which one is sweetest ahead?"
"Shut the fuck up already!" Jeff barked, firing another round, but his jaw tightened—he was listening, against his will.
Scar's laughter danced in the air as the first wave fell. "Watch out, my dear… your pioneers are lying at your feet." His tone shifted, almost tender, almost cruel. "Don't look back. Join them… and I'll have a scorchingly delightful welcome waiting for you up ahead."
By the fifth grapple point, Rover's breath was ragged, her hands blistered against her hilt. Her arms trembled, but she pressed forward. Jeff's shirt clung to his back with sweat, his trigger finger aching, but he didn't slow.
"Uh-oh…" Scar's voice dropped low, mocking concern. "Don't rush. One slip—and you'll shatter to pieces."
The second wave descended, faster, hungrier. Blood sprayed, steel clashed. Rover let out a raw shout as she drove her blade through one, twisting, her teeth bared. Jeff's gun thundered, muzzle flashing, his expression grim but alive.
Scar clapped slowly, his smirk glinting in the firelight. "Such speed… such brutality. Aah, can't you see? We are kindred spirits, after all." He leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "Shhh… don't be so quick to deny it. Now that I have you here, standing before me—I'd love to hear your answers."
And then, the battle with him.
Scar fought relentlessly, each slash of his blade graceful yet brutal alongside his pesky resonance abilities, his coat flaring up in the wind. Rover parried hard, sparks bursting, her muscles screaming as Jeff fired shot after shot to force him back.
Scar's smile never faltered, even with blood at the corner of his mouth. "Tell me," he hissed between strikes and gunfires, eyes blazing, "do you want to be the rule-setting shepherd—or the rule-breaking black lamb?"
Rover staggered back, chest heaving, sweat dripping into her eyes. Jeff pulled her up, his arm bracing hers, and shot Scar in the shoulder.
Scar only laughed, blood spraying, teeth bared. "If a sane man survives in a realm of lunatics—does that make him the last sane one… or the first apostle?" His voice cracked into a manic laugh.
They struck him down at last, his knees hitting the stone, his breath ragged. Still—still he grinned.
"Once the shepherd is gone… the black lamb can reclaim the herd. No victims. No oppressors…" His words faltered, crimson spilling from his lips. His smile wavered, just for a second.
"Ugh…" His head jerked as Yangyang's voice rang out, cutting through the haze.
"Rover! Jeff!"
Scar snarled, spitting blood, his smirk twisting one last time. "Such… a pesky girl."
And then he crumpled. The dimension vanished and the surroundings came back to the Qichi Village.
Yangyang's voice cracked through the haze.
"Jef… Rover!"
Her usually bright features were pale under the Tacet Field's sickly glow. Sweat clung to her temple as her grip tightened on her blade.
Rover lifted her chin, her voice low but steady. "…Yangyang."
The air rippled. A mocking laugh slid out of the shadows.
"I shattered Scar's illusion," Yangyang said sharply, her brows furrowing, eyes narrowing. "That should've injured him."
From the broken ground ahead, Scar emerged, his twisted smile illuminated by faint light.
"Hehe… should I thank you for showing me mercy?" His tone was playful, but his eyes burned with malice.
Yangyang's jaw tightened, and she raised her weapon again. "Stay away from them!" she snapped, stepping protectively in front of Rover and Jeff. Her body trembled with fury, feathers of resonance dancing at her side.
Then, soft footsteps approached. The air grew heavier.
Jeff's stomach sank as a tall, graceful woman stepped into view. The familiar sway of her hair, the piercing steel of her eyes—it was her.
Phrolova
Jeff's chest tightened until it hurt. A wave of hazy memories crashed against his skull, images he couldn't piece together but couldn't push away either. What the hell? Jeff clutching his head trying to stop a headache from forming.
"Dammit…" he hissed under his breath, teeth gritted.
Scar groaned in irritation. "Ugh. Didn't you promise to leave me some alone time with Rover and Jeff?"
Phrolova's gaze was steady and cool, yet her lips curved beautifully. "With one condition. I do hope you haven't let that slip from your mind," she replied, her voice smooth and melodic almost tender. "Don't let your improvisation trouble others."
Scar rolled his eyes, waving dismissively. "Ugh… Look at you. Rushing in to protect your precious Perfect Movement."
Phrolova's expression barely shifted, though Jeff swore he saw her eyes flicker with something else—regret? Disgust? Longing? He couldn't tell.
Scar turned back to Rover, his grin spreading. "No worries. I know all the dos and don'ts. I don't need you to tell me what to do." He tilted his head, studying Rover as if savoring her unease. "Rover, Jeff, it seems our happy little date… must come to an end."
His voice softened, almost a whisper. "But don't forget my reminders. Let me know what you'll both choose: an unexpected gift, an honest and open exchange… or a highly risky gamble." His smile cut like a blade. "The choice is yours. You're smart. You won't make a hasty decision. We'll meet again… soon."
With that, Scar stepped back, walking toward the portal behind him.
And then Jeff felt it—eyes on him.
Phrolova's gaze locked onto him with terrifying intensity—piercing, and filled with too many emotions for him to untangle. Affection. Anger. Sadness. Regret. Her lips parted, trembling ever so slightly, before a single word escaped.
"Liar."
The sound was fragile, but it hit like a blade to the chest. Jeff's breath snagged. His mind spun. Liar? For what? The question screamed inside him, desperate, but no answer surfaced. He stood there, exposed, as though her single word had torn away every layer he thought he'd hidden behind.
Her look said it all. She knows me. But how?
Her eyes left him only to fall on Rover. Slowly, they slid down, locking onto the Red Lotus pendantresting against Rover's collarbone.
Something flared in her eyes—raw and undisguised hatred. Like a child watching their most precious treasure stolen away. Her gaze clung to the pendant the way someone stares at a stolen heirloom, a precious toy ripped from their hands.
Phrolova's slender fingers brushed her own pendant hanging over her heart. Her touch was tender, almost reverent, but her expression fractured between love and despair.
"You chose her after all," she muttered bitterly, almost to herself, but her voice carried. Her gaze lingered one last time on Rover, then on Jeff, before she turned away.
Jeff wanted to speak, to reach out, to do something—but the words drowned in his throat.
Phrolova's shoulders stiffened. She turned sharply, eyes fixed ahead, spine straightening like she couldn't allow herself to break just yet.
The air warped as she walked toward Scar, her back straight, her shoulders stiff. Just before stepping into the portal, she touched her own Red Lotus pendant that was given to her by someone she held dear once more, as though it were the only thing keeping her from falling apart. But her face… her face was breaking. And then both Scar and Phrolova walked through the portal and left like they weren't even there in the first place.
Jeff stood frozen, the echo of her word—Liar—still burning in his chest, while Rover's uneasy gaze flicked toward him, searching his face, waiting for an answer he didn't have.