Author's Note: This story is a pure, single-female-protagonist piece, born from the author's inability to cope with the emotional devastation of Version 4.2's plot. There is no outline. The final length will be determined by its reception and the author's whims.
In this story, Furina is largely portrayed as her true self, the person beneath the "Hydro Archon" facade. Beyond her canonical characterization, she leans into being a more grounded, "normal girl," complete with certain... tsundere tendencies.
Pure brainrot. You've been warned.
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So tired...
So bored...
"The verdict: Mr. Stuville is found guilty."
On the towering judgment platform, the Iudex, Neuvillette, resplendent in his blue robes, delivered the final judgment. As expected, the Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale echoed his decision. Guilty.
Stuville's fate was sealed: a lifetime of imprisonment within the walls of the Fortress of Meropide.
For the audience gathered in the Opera Epiclese, today's spectacle had been, perhaps, a touch on the dull side.
The case itself was straightforward. Stuville, a minor noble with a sliver of influence, had been consumed by jealousy. He extended an invitation to a grand ball to a more powerful lord, a man whose patronage he coveted. The powerful lord, seeing potential in cultivating a lesser noble, accepted.
What followed was tragically simple.
During a private moment, the unsuspecting lord willingly drank wine laced with a slow-acting poison, prepared long in advance. He harbored no suspicion; after all, he believed there was no conflict, no grudge between them. He underestimated the destructive power of simple, unadulterated envy.
He returned home after what he thought was a pleasant conversation, only to die there shortly after.
Stuville foolishly believed that because the death didn't occur on his property, he would evade justice. He underestimated the reach of the deceased lord's influence and the capability of the Gardes. An elite team was dispatched, and within half a day, Stuville was in custody. A subsequent search of his home unearthed irrefutable evidence. Faced with the mounting proof, Stuville's composure shattered, and he confessed to everything without reservation.
The trial was clean, efficient... and monumentally boring.
In the highest, most secluded box, the seat reserved for Fontaine's Hydro Archon, a young lady with snow-white hair watched the weeping, seemingly repentant Stuville. Her expression was one of profound, unadulterated boredom.
A sinner... Hah. A sinner.
With a sigh, Furina rose languidly, drifting to the edge of her private viewing platform.
Instantly, the vast opera house fell silent. Every eye fixed on the solitary figure high above, awaiting her pronouncement.
"What a dreadfully boring trial..."
The words hung in the air for a moment before she turned and swept away, leaving only her silhouette against the gilded architecture.
"Lady Furina is absolutely right! What a waste of a trial!"
"Indeed! The only remotely interesting part was the motive murder out of pure jealousy but then he just confessed! No theatrics, no dramatic defense! How utterly dull!"
"Unbelievable! I took the day off for this? What a letdown!"
Below, the audience, their own opinions validated by the Archon's dismissal, erupted in agreement. If even the Archon found it boring, then it must be true!
On the judgment platform, Neuvillette observed the suddenly animated crowd but made no move to silence them. The trial was over. This was, in a sense, the time for public discourse. His gaze drifted to the distant, now-empty Archon's box. The young lady's figure had vanished, leaving only the vacant seat. A flicker of something, thought, perhaps, or concern, passed through his eyes before he, too, turned and departed.
The Opera House remained abuzz with chatter. The world continued its endless, cyclical rhythm, replaying scenes like this day after day.
Back in her chambers at the Palais Mermonia, Furina had finally completed her official duties. A faint weariness in her eyes, she dismissed the waiting attendant and entered her room alone. She closed the door firmly behind her. The instant it clicked shut, some of the tension seemed to ease from her shoulders. But the ritual wasn't over. She crossed to the window, shut it with practiced ease, and drew the heavy curtains. Only after a final, sweeping glance to ensure no prying eyes remained did she hesitate, then turn to face the figure watching her from the shadows.
"Why seal the door? Why hide behind curtains? Why... do you always look so flustered?"
Lucien's voice held a note of genuine curiosity, his gaze a mixture of question and quiet contemplation.
"Before I answer that... how about you tell me what you really are?!"
"Me? My name is Lucien..."
"That again? Nothing more?"
"Hmm..."
"Where do you live? Who are your parents? Why are you here?"
"I... I don't know..."
Lucien lowered his head, as if sifting through a fog. But whenever he tried to grasp a memory, his head would throb with a sharp, piercing pain, like a thousand needles. He didn't show it, though. Perhaps... he was simply used to it by now.
Furina fell silent, her words caught in her throat.
This young man named Lucien had materialized before her a few days ago. She had just finished observing a trial and delivering her customary speech when he suddenly appeared, asking softly,
"What is a trial?"
His voice was unnervingly clear, each word distinct.
Flustered, she'd instinctively glanced at Clorinde, her guardian, who stood nearby. But Clorinde's gaze passed right through the young man. She only looked back at Furina with a puzzled expression, wondering why her charge had suddenly glanced her way.
Clorinde... couldn't see him?
Years of performing had honed her ability to recover from any surprise. She stole another glance at the young man, only to find his deep blue eyes already fixed on her. White hair, deep blue eyes, even his clothing bore a strange resemblance to her own style. He was like... a male reflection of herself.
Forcing herself to look away, Furina subtly shifted her posture, letting her hand drift, as if by accident, through the space where he stood. Her fingers met nothing but air. A hallucination, then. The stress was mounting again... But she had to endure. She had to continue.
Ignoring him, she'd risen and left, determined to power through her schedule and collapse into bed.
But the young man followed. Everywhere she went, he was there, trailing her with a dedication that rivaled Clorinde's! Furina endured it, telling herself it was just a stress-induced phantom. It would fade. They always did.
Days passed, and he remained, an unwavering shadow. She continued to ignore him, attributing his persistence to her own exhausted mind.
Until yesterday. What girl wouldn't mind a stranger standing over her bed, watching her sleep?! Waking up to find his face was the first thing she saw was the final straw.
Unable to bear it another moment, she'd muttered under her breath, "Why is my hallucination so weird..."
She'd said it while looking right at him. And in that instant, Lucien's eyes widened with a spark of realization.
"You... you can see me?"
"Of course I can! You're my hallucination! If I can't see you, who can?"
That was their first conversation. The beginning of their shared destiny.
At the time, Furina had no thought for destiny. She simply thought this was the most ridiculous hallucination yet utterly useless, even if he was easy on the eyes!
But at her words, the young man had simply shaken his head and said softly,
"I've forgotten a great deal... but I remember I have a name."
"A name?"
"Yes... It's Lucien. And... I'm fairly certain... I'm a person."