𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕸𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖞

✦ ⠂⠂୨୧ Masterlist!!

Original Universe

Twisted!AU

✦ ⠂⠂୨୧ Tags!!

Meaning of tags I use:

#memori662- anything that's related to me

#memori662speaks - important stuff

#worldbuilding - about my world building (magic system, places...)

#OC: {name} - about that one OC

#{name} AU: {oc name} - about that OC AU

#no longer canon - not lore accurate anymore

Published: 2/07/24 15:40

Last edited: 25/04/26 12:12

Memori slipped, her body crashing heavily back into the tub. Her shoulder slammed against the porcelain, and her head hit the tiled wall with a dull thud. Water splashed over the rim, pooling onto the concrete floor.

Her face remained completely flat, an apathetic mask untouched by panic or surprise. She lay tangled in the shallow water, one hand pressing against the right side of her chest as her heart gave an irregular, suffocating throb. Her eyes were wide and glazed over, staring blankly at the ceiling as she waited for the spinning to stop.

In the middle of her absolute silence, a heavy, familiar sound forced its way into her ears.

The steady dripping of the leaky faucet vanished, completely swallowed by the deafening, metallic scraping of heavy iron chains dragging across the bathroom floor. In her distorted peripheral vision, the shadows cast by the sink and the towel racks began to bleed upward, twisting lazily along the wet tiles until they formed the unmistakable, towering silhouette of curved goat horns and a segmented scorpion stinger.

From the darkest corner of the ceiling, a freezing, pitch-black smoke cascaded downward, pooling into the water around her legs like liquid ink.

"Look at you", Zillah’s voice murmured directly into the center of her quiet mind, his tone lazy, dragged-out, and thoroughly amused by her clumsiness. "The brilliant military strategist, defeated by a standard porcelain basin. You really are such a fragile thing, aren't you? One bad step and my favorite toy nearly cracks her skull open".

Memori didn't move. She lay perfectly still in the water, her deadpan gaze remaining fixed on the ceiling tiles. She had no thoughts to offer him, no internal monologue to complain about the bruising on her shoulder.

"Oh, giving me the silent treatment again? How tragic", Zillah sardonically laughed, the phantom chains tightening with a sharp, echoing snap against her eardrums. "Go on then, stay down there. Let the water get cold. Let's see if the fox or the puppy has to come break the door down just to fish your lifeless body out of the drain".

Memori slowly parted her lips, her voice a flat, blunt whisper that echoed softly against the empty bathroom tiles.

"Shut up. The floor is spinning."

"Then stop looking at it, Little Pet", Zillah chuckled, a low, dry sound that resonated at the back of her head as the black smoke began to lazily thin out. "Take your time. Sit tight. I'll just stay here and enjoy the view of your engine failing."

Memori closed her eyes, her hand remaining pressed against her chest as the numbing white noise of her mind slowly began to stabilize her vision, while the phantom rattling of the chains lazily faded back into the dark corners of the room.

As she tried to shift her weight, a sharp, stinging sensation sliced through the numbness on her thigh. The violent impact of her fall had torn open the clumsy stitches from their last dirty-work mission. Slowly, a dark, thick ribbon of crimson began to uncoil from her skin, bleeding heavily into the clear water. Within moments, the pristine white of the porcelain tub was consumed, swirling into a dense, ominous red.

Memori didn't flinch. She watched the water turn to wine with a cold, detached curiosity, processing the injury as nothing more than a minor biological malfunction.

With a slow, mechanical effort, she dragged her wet arm over the slick rim of the tub, ignoring the blood dragging along her skin. Her fingertips scraped blindly across the damp concrete floor until they finally brushed against the small plastic bottle of NX-00 that had rolled off the counter during her fall. Her fingers twitched, gripping the plastic with a rigid, automated precision.

"There it is", Zillah’s voice murmured directly into the center of her quiet mind, his phantom chains giving a lazy, slow rattle against her eardrums. "Your leash. Go on, Little Pet. Take your poison".

Memori didn't answer him. She didn't have the energy or the desire to formulate a thought. Using her wet fingers, she pried the cap off the vial. Her vision blurred again, a sudden, blinding flash of gray that threatened to pull her under, and her heart gave a terrifyingly hollow flutter. Mechanically, without an ounce of hesitation, her fingers shook three pills out into her palm instead of one. She just wanted the noise to stop. She wanted the room to freeze.

The lazy rattle of the chains snapped brutally tight in her head. The lazy, mocking tone vanished from her mind, replaced by an immediate, dangerous hiss as the black smoke around her legs boiled against the crimson water.

Zillah knew exactly what she was doing. He knew she was about to go overboard again.

"Do not go overboard again", Zillah whispered, the simple, flat warning carrying a sudden, cold weight that vibrated against her skull. "Put them back."

Memori paused, her hand hovering above her open mouth, her deadpan platinum eyes staring unblinkingly at the red water. Her mind remained completely vacant of fear. Slowly, deliberately, she tilted her hand backward, letting all three of the chemical tablets drop back through the plastic neck of the vial.

She twisted the cap shut, tossing the bottle onto the concrete floor with a soft plastic click. She wasn't going to take any of them.

As the crushing pressure around her ribs tightened and the severe dizziness threatened to erase her vision entirely, her dull expression cracked. A rare, bitter, and darkly amused smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. She leaned her head back against the frozen porcelain, letting her body sink a fraction deeper into the blood-red bath. Her voice was a flat, breathy murmur that carried absolutely no warmth.

"Then what? Do you just want to keep me company?"

The absolute silence inside her head stretched, the phantom iron chains giving a faint, stunned rattle against her skull as Zillah processed her refusal to run back behind her chemical dam. The black smoke coiled tighter around the rim of the tub, turning the crimson water freezing cold.

"Do not attempt to drown either", Zillah sibilated, his tone dropping into a sharp, rigid warning that echoed heavily in her mind. "If you let the water swallow you just to spite me, your little motor won't survive the fluid in your lungs. And I have no intention of letting my Little Pet dissolve in a pool of her own waste."

The physical exertion triggered the reaction almost immediately. A brutal, icy pang shot through the right side of her chest — the residual vampire blood trapped around her heart flaring up in a violent rejection. Memori’s face remained completely flat, an apathetic mask untouched by fear, but her platinum eyes dilated as the sudden drop in blood pressure sent a wave of severe dizziness through her brain. She stumbled back against the cold bricks of the wall.

With numb, practiced movements, she reached into her tactical vest and pulled out the small, government-labeled vial of NX-00.

Before her shaking fingers could twist the cap open, a heavy, gloved hand slammed her against the gas pipes. The leader of the mercenaries ripped the vial from her grasp. He glanced at the scientific serial numbers on the glass, a confident, mocking grin spreading across his face as he slipped the container deep into his own vest pocket.

"Looking for your combat dose, little rat?" the man sneered, shoving her down. "I’ve heard about you Black Sheep. I’m not letting you take whatever serum makes you monsters. You’re going to stay right there."

Memori did not answer. She had no inner voice to comfort her, no internal monologue to process the danger. Her mind was a vast, empty white noise. She simply slid down the wall until her knees hit the damp concrete, one hand pressed firmly against her chest, holding her failing heart together.

At that exact moment, with the containment dam of her medication gone, the silence in her mind was shattered.

The sound of the pouring rain vanished. The flickering fluorescent tubes overhead seemed to pulse with a sickeningly slow, heavy rhythm. In the absolute vacuum of her thoughts, a new sound forced its way in: the deafening, metallic scraping of heavy iron chains dragging across the concrete floor. In her distorted vision, the shadows cast by the three remaining men began to stretch unnaturally up the brick walls, twisting and curving until they formed the silhouette of massive goat horns and a wicked scorpion stinger looming over the dock.

From the darkest patch of shadow behind the pipes, a freezing, pitch-black smoke materialized, draping itself over her shoulders like a suffocatingly cold cloak.

"Well, look at that", Zillah’s voice hissed directly into the center of her mind, his tone lazy, dragged out, and deeply amused by her demise. "The gorilla thinks you’re a dangerous monster and took your candy away. Look at you, kneeling in the wet dirt. Your pathetic human engine is finally breaking down today. You really are such a fragile thing, aren't you? A few more beats and we both go dark."

The remaining mercenaries advanced, batons raised high. They could not see the ancient entity (or maybe she was simply hallucinating) hovering over her, but the temperature in the loading dock plummeted so rapidly that their breath turned into thick plumes of frost in the air.

Memori kept her eyes fixed on the floor, her mind completely devoid of panic. The blade continued to slide between her trembling fingers.

"They are right on top of you", Zillah’s voice murmured, the phantom chains tightening with a sharp metallic snap in her head. "And you’re still completely mute. You’re a real Spitfire today, aren’t you? If you’re going to collapse because he stole your bottle, at least make the last cut clean."

Through the haze of the crushing heart pain, the trajectories of the incoming weapons became perfectly clear in her vision.

The moment the first baton swung toward her head, Memori lunged forward, sliding across the slick concrete with mechanical efficiency. She avoided the strike by a millimeter. Moving with clinical accuracy, her surgical blade cut a deep, crimson line across the first attacker's throat. Without breaking her momentum, she pivoted on her knees, driving the steel directly into the neck of the second man before he could even register her movement.

Both mercenaries fell backward, choking on their own blood.

Memori pushed herself up with immense effort, swaying unsteadily as her heart gave another agonizing throb. Her deadpan, vacant gaze locked entirely onto the leader’s vest. The vial of pills was right there, barely a meter away, tucked inside his pocket.

The leader, utterly terrified as he watched a numb teenager butcher his squad in seconds without a single flicker of emotion on her face, took a frantic step back, his hand rushing to unholster his firearm.

Memori didn't think. She didn't plan. She took one step forward, but her knee buckled as a sudden wave of severe dizziness tilted the entire loading dock. Her vision blurred into a gray haze, the brick walls stretching into impossible geometric shapes. Her heart gave a massive, irregular throb that forced a silent gasp from her lips, but her face remained entirely vacant.

When she parted her lips, her voice didn't sound like a teenager's. It was a rough, scraped sound, completely stripped of inflection, barely carrying over the sound of the downpour. It was a harsh whisper, forced through a throat parched by adrenaline and chemical withdrawal.

"Give me... the pills."

The mercenary leader froze, his gun half-drawn. The utter lack of fear in her whisper, paired with the fact that she was clearly suffocating from some internal failure, broke whatever resolve he had left. It didn't sound like a plea. It sounded like an order from something that didn't understand mortality.

"You... you really are a freak", the man stammered, his survival instinct completely overriding his military training. He didn't fire. Instead, his hand abandoned the gun, darting into his vest pocket to yank the NX-00 vial out. He threw it at her feet like it was a live grenade. "Take your damn poison!"

The glass vial clinked against the wet concrete, rolling until it tapped against the toe of her boot.

"Oh, how boring", the pest sighed in her mind, the heavy chains rattling lazily as the black smoke around her shoulders began to thin out. "The brute folded. You didn't even get to spill his blood, Spitfire. Go on then. Go back to sleep."

Memori didn't spare the leader another glance. Her fingers did not tremble as she tipped the vial. Her flat, vacant gaze remained fixed on the concrete as she popped the synthetic pill onto her tongue and swallowed it dry, her throat moving in a tight, painful gasp.

The high-potency chemical hit her system like a wave of liquid ice. Almost instantly, the violent spasms in her chest began to slow, the freezing compound forcibly numbing the warfare between her shadow energy and the residual vampire blood. The gray haze in her vision receded.

But before the absolute silence could reclaim her mind, the phantom iron chains in her head snapped tight with a lazy rattle.

"Do not go overboard again", Zillah's voice murmured, his tone lazy and entirely too relaxed as the black smoke around her shoulders began to thin out.

Memori didn't answer him. As the NX-00 fully saturated her central nervous system, her mind turned into pure, unadulterated white noise. The shadows on the wall snapped back to their normal, mundane shapes. The sound of the chains vanished. Zillah was gone, pushed back behind the chemical dam, leaving her completely alone in the quiet architecture of her own numb mind.

She stood up slowly, her balance perfectly restored, though her skin was now as pale and cold as the rain washing the blood off her tactical boots. She slipped the vial back into her vest, her fingers moving with robotic, deadpan efficiency.

When she spoke, her voice was no longer a scraped whisper; it was sweet, warm, and dripping with an unsettling, diplomatic kindness. "Thank you for your cooperation", she said, her tone bright and perfectly pleasant. "It is always a pleasure to encounter people who understand the value of efficiency."

Memori took half a step closer, tilting her head with an innocent, friendly curiosity. Her smile never faltered, but her eyes remained completely dead, empty of any genuine warmth.

"I do hope you have a wonderful rest of your evening", she murmured, her voice carrying a soft, melodic cheerfulness that felt entirely wrong in the bloody alley. "And please, do remember to be very careful on your way back out. It would be such an awful tragedy if you were to trip on the wet concrete... or accidentally find yourself in the path of a sniper's bullet".

Subject exhibits visual and auditory acuity that far exceeds registered limits in any known hominid. His night vision is absolute; total darkness does not affect his target-locking capabilities at long distances in the slightest. In fact, he operates with higher precision in pitch-black environments.

However, the massive dose of pureblood blood has generated photosensitivity in his corneas and epidermal tissue. Direct exposure to daylight triggers incapacitating migraines and immediate second-degree burns. Additionally, the subject displays an acute and violent anthropophagic (cannibalistic) urge.

The RC-03 drug acts as an intravenous/oral synthetic solar filter and an aggressiveness suppressor. It temporarily neutralizes ocular pain caused by daylight and numbs his taste buds to mitigate his hunger for human flesh outside the battlefield.

DEPENDENCY LINK: NONE. The subject's vampiric metabolism incinerates the chemical compounds in less than 4 hours. It does not generate addiction. Control over this subject must be maintained through meat/blood rationing or light deprivation.

—————

🧪 LAB NOTE: PHARMACEUTICAL RX-07 (Classification: Homeostatic Modulator)

Target: Subject 54

Biological Status: Perfect biological amalgam. Absolute cellular balance between human DNA and pureblood vampire cells.

[PRINCIPAL INVESTIGATOR NOTES]

Subject is the cleanest biological success of this project. He has inherited the strength, speed, and regeneration of the vampiric specimen without any of its traditional weaknesses. The subject is completely immune to sunlight and retains his heightened senses in a stable manner. His psychology mimics canine (specifically vulpine) behaviors: cunning, territorial and overly confident.

The RX-07 drug is not administered out of medical necessity, but for the safety of our personnel. It is a pill of beta-blockers and adrenaline modulators designed to place an artificial "ceiling" on his strength spikes and regulate his arrogant temperament during missions that require discretion.

DEPENDENCY LINK: NONE. His hybrid immune system flushes the medication out as if it were a common toxin. The subject frequently fakes ingesting the drug. Strict visual surveillance is mandatory during dosage administration.

—————

🧪 LAB NOTE: PHARMACEUTICAL NX-00 (Classification: Neuro-Vascular Stabilizer & Analgesic)

Target: Subject 62

Biological Status: ABSOLUTE INCOMPATIBILITY. Pureblood serum rejected.

[PRINCIPAL INVESTIGATOR NOTES]

Subject's body violently expelled the pureblood vampire blood upon injection. However, the residual trauma of the experiment has left severe cardiovascular and neurological aftereffects. The incompatibility triggers violent spikes of acute, crushing pain in her heart, alongside severe, chronic dizziness caused by sudden drops in blood pressure.

To ensure the asset remains operational, we have provided her with the NX-00 formula, which we have classified and labeled for her as high-potency "painkillers."

The failed injection awakened her congenital mystical trait (Nox Lineage / Umbrakinesis). The acute heart pains occur because the "holy" shadow energy of Primordinus Zillah is trying to expand, placing immense pressure on her human cardiovascular system. The dizziness is a direct result of her brain trying to process the visual distortion of the shadow realm.

The NX-00 painkillers act as a chemical anchor. They constrict the shadow energy, numb the excruciating heart receptors, and stabilize her inner ear to eliminate the dizziness.

DEPENDENCY LINK: CRITICAL. Because her human body lacks vampiric regeneration, her central nervous system has become entirely dependent on these "painkillers" to function.

It was subtle, the way the ethereal figure responded to resentment. Not a glance, not a frown — yet the aura of calm, unwavering composure seemed to challenge Mimi outright. Even from a distance, anyone seated at the table could sense the tension building.

Mimi smirked despite herself, a flash of mischief in her eyes. "Hey, Val", she began, leaning forward and showing off her pearly whites in a grin, "Wanna rematch?"

Valeria tilted her head ever so slightly to the side, silent, as if inviting her to elaborate.

"Don’t play coy", Mimi pressed, leaning a little closer, her grin widening. "Last time…" Her voice took on that teasing, half-threatening edge that made it clear she would not let the memory rest.

"It was a humiliating loss for you, wasn’t it?" Memori’s voice cut in smoothly, warm and measured, yet each syllable carried the subtle edge of someone who had memorized exactly how to strike. Her practiced smile — the one she used so often in polite society, over dinners with men who thought they could outwit her — was on full display. "I remember it clearly. You lost after the thirty-second glass, hm?"

Mimi’s eyes narrowed, and she let out a frustrated grunt, furrowing her brows as Vivian, seated meekly between the chaos and calm, looked on with wide, perplexed eyes. She had no idea what she was witnessing, but the tension radiating from her peers was palpable.

"I’m honestly surprised no one ended up with alcohol poisoning", Memori idly muttered.

"And you didn’t stop them", Alexa added, voice tight with memory of that ill-fated contest. Her arms were crossed, brows furrowed, still clearly irritated. "Only a you'd let that happen."

Memori waved a dismissive hand, her smirk almost casual. "Why, even a doctor must take days off", she quipped. "Besides, am I not a friend? Oh, that's it! Consider it harmless fun between friends."

"Harmless is one way to put it, Milady", William interrupted gently, filling Memori’s glass with water, a careful, composed presence in the middle of the growing chaos. "An average man would have hit alcohol poisoning well before the twentieth glass."

"But they are not average men, are they?" the blonde replied, tilting her head slightly, letting that dark, playful spark shine in her eyes. "Not to mention… not men at all."

Her words struck without needing explanation. Mimi floundered for a reply, silence giving her the perfect opening to push forward, leaning over the table with all the energy of someone half her age.

"It’s settled, then", she said, pointing between herself and Valeria. "You. Me. Drinking contest."

Valeria, as expected, accepted wordlessly, tapping her crystal glass lightly against the table.

"Don’t get too enthusiastic, Valeria", Alexa warned sharply, glaring at both the instigator and their boss. "Ain't good for your health."

"Oh, so now you care about health?" Memori teased, though there was an underlying sharp of seriousness in her voice.

"Shut your mouth", Alexa shot back.

The table settled into a rhythm of chaos and order. Memori’s façade of polite composure faltered whenever Alexa was involved — teasing, prompting banter and pulling her patience just enough to keep the evening alive. Yet through it all, Alexa’s loyalty was unmistakable, unwavering even amidst the bickering.

"You!" Mimi suddenly pointed at Vivian, drawing the timid girl’s attention. "Wanna join?"

"Uh… me?" Vivian stammered, shrinking slightly.

"Yes, you, darling", the pink-hair said smoothly, twirling an empty glass between her fingers. "I was pointing at you."

Vivian’s nervous silence lasted only a moment before Alexa shot a warning glance. "Don’t pressure her", she said sharply, directing her ire at Mimi this time. "Don’t be an asshole."

Mimi laughed and pivoted, turning to Alexa. "Oh? Wanna join instead?"

Vivian swallowed hard, white hair brushing her trembling shoulders, as Memori leaned back with an amused smile, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

"This whole thing is between you and Valeria—"

"—Will", Mimi called out, directing the group’s ever-silent butler into action and successfully cutting Alexa off. “Will you grab some wine?”

"I shall do so, Lady Mimi", William replied without hesitation, disappearing briefly before returning with a dark bottle of unmistakable liquid, which he poured carefully into each participant’s glass.

"There you are", he said, stepping back, returning to Memori’s side, who observed everything with a kind, calculating smile, the faintest spark of amusement in her eyes.

"Huh?" Alexa looked at Mimi, frowning. "I never said I'm participating."

"Mhm", Mimi hummed with a wide, unapologetic grin. "Now, drink up!"

Valeria lifted her glass with delicate precision, taking a measured sip as if she were savoring a rare vintage. In contrast, Mimi barely paused, draining hers in a single, victorious gulp. She knew how to enjoy a drink — of course she did — but tonight, the thrill of winning this contest had taken full control of her senses. Alexa followed suit, though less violently than Mimi. Her cheeks flushed faintly as she finished the glass in one determined shot, her reluctance clear in the slight grimace she tried to hide.

"Is the wine to your liking, Valery?" Memori asked, her voice surprisingly soft, her smile warm in a way she knew the woman could not perceive.

Valeria paused a moment, eyes closed, considering the flavor with quiet care, before giving the slightest nod.

"Good, then", Memori murmured, and the corners of her lips curved just enough to signal satisfaction.

Meanwhile, Vivian watched the scene unfold in horror. William, ever the meticulous butler, poured another round for each contestant with fluid efficiency. Her heart thumped in her chest as she realized just how close she had been to being dragged into this chaos. A small measure of relief softened her nerves — but the guilt lingered. Maybe she should join and stop the game before it went too far?

"Don’t worry your pretty little head about it", Memori’s voice chimed from across the table, cutting through Vivian’s thoughts with a playful, almost teasing lilt. The sudden intrusion made the girl yelp high-pitched, a shiver racing down her spine from the unexpected intimacy of the sound.

"My, I didn’t mean to scare you", the woman said lightly, though Vivian caught the faint smirk tugging at her lips, even as she sipped the warm water in her own glass. "But I said: don’t worry too much. They’ll be fine."

Vivian’s gaze darted back to the contestants. Alexa, the short-haired one, was already flushing noticeably, a faint tremor in her fingers betraying the limits of her tolerance. Among the three, she would surely be the first to falter.

"And that’s the fifth glass!" Memori announced cheerfully, tapping the edge of her own cup.

Vivian’s eyes widened in shock. How had they possibly managed to finish five glasses in such a short span? And how — of all things — did Memori keep track so easily, as if counting glasses while having her focus on leading a conversation were as simple as breathing?

***

It was not long after that Mimi sat visibly flustered in her chair, her face decorated with streaks of crimson blush. Her sharp eyes had gone hazy around the edges, and the smirk she wore as naturally as breathing had long since disappeared, replaced by the thin, stubborn line of red-painted lips trying desperately to preserve her dignity.

“Boss…” she called sluggishly, lifting a hand in the air. “Which one was it?”

Across the table, Memori finally looked up.

She had been observing the entire drinking contest with unnerving attentiveness, chin propped lazily against her hand as though she were studying something genuinely fascinating. Her pale hair spilled over one shoulder in soft waves, almost glowing beneath the warm light.

"I dunno", she answered with an innocent shrug. "I wasn’t counting."

Mimi stared at her.

Then slowly facepalmed.

The truly tragic part was that she believed her.

Sober, Mimi would have caught the bluff instantly. Memori forgetting the count? Impossible. The woman was a tutor with a mind so irritatingly precise it bordered on inhuman at times. She remembered numbers, patterns, habits — everything.

But alcohol had blurred the edges of Mimi’s judgment, and now doubt seeped in where certainty normally stood.

"…Seriously?" she muttered into her hand, sounding deeply betrayed.

A faint smile tugged at Memori’s lips.

"It’s the twelfth", she whispered quietly beside Vivian.

Vivian nearly jolted in place.

Memori had leaned toward her without warning, close enough for the shy girl to stiffen immediately. Her lilac eyes widened as she shrank slightly into herself, fingers curling nervously in her lap.

"Bet Alexia goes down next."

As if the universe itself wished to humor Memori personally, Alexa suddenly collapsed face-first onto the dinner table with a heavy thud. The glasses rattled.

For a moment, silence consumed the room.

Then Mimi let out a drunken, wheezing laugh.

William merely sighed.

The man had clearly anticipated this outcome long before anyone else had. Without a word, he rose from his chair and retrieved one of the folded blankets he had prepared beforehand, carefully draping it over Alexa’s unconscious form with practiced gentleness.

"There", he said softly. "Wouldn’t want her catching cold."

Alexa responded with an incomprehensible groan into the wood.

Meanwhile, Valeria remained perfectly composed. Untouched.

She sat upright with impossible elegance amidst the disaster of bottles and exhausted participants, hands resting neatly on her lap, eyes still peacefully closed. The alcohol had affected everyone else in visible ways — flushed faces, loosened tongues, slower reactions.

Valeria, however, appeared almost ethereal.

Her head tilted slightly toward Alexa’s unconscious body. There was something in her expression that resembled concern at first glance, some faint trace of softness.

But it was not pity.

Valeria did not experience emotions in the way ordinary humans did. Feelings such as shame, sympathy, or guilt existed to her more as concepts than instincts — things she understood intellectually rather than personally.

Still, after a quiet pause, she reached forward and gently moved Alexa’s glass farther from the table’s edge before it could spill over her.

Mimi squinted at her from across the table.

"…You’re horrifying", she slurred.

Valeria said nothing.

***

"Say, who are you betting on, Liam?" Memori's unsurprisingly childish tone of voice resonated through the room as she leaned just slightly over her right-hand man.

"What are we exactly betting on, Milady?" the gentleman countered back, with his own small, amused smile plastered over his face. It was no secret to the residents of Memori's estate that, if William were to play along to a joke, it would be Memori's. "Regardless of the answer, I do believe the winner to be quite obvious."

"Who knows?" Memori’s lips curved into a mischievous grin. "Maybe it'll turn out differently this time." She leaned back slightly, hands clasped loosely in front of her, eyes sparkling with the thrill of uncertainty — the kind of spark that made her so infuriating to those around her.

William’s gaze lingered on her for a heartbeat longer than necessary, calm but not without amusement. "Perhaps", he said quietly, "But I would not count on it."

The corner of Memori’s mouth twitched in acknowledgment, almost imperceptibly.

Then, her eyes glinted faintly as she leaned back, spinning her glass lazily. "Alright, everyone", she said, voice calm but teasing, "A little puzzle for the mind, or for amusement, depending on how you look at it."

Vivian stiffened nervously. Valeria, as usual, remained serene, eyes closed. Mimi, flushed and wobbling slightly from drink fifteen, slumped back in her chair, her glass half-forgotten, and William’s calm gaze flicked between them.

Memori leaned forward, hands resting lightly on the table, eyes sparkling. "Imagine this: on the table, three vessels — a shot glass, a martini glass, and a mug. The shot holds four ounces, the martini sixteen, and the mug thirty-two. All full of wine. The shot glass is fifty percent alcohol, the martini twelve and a half, and the mug six and a quarter."

She let the question hang in the air. "Now, tell me, which one has more alcohol?"

Vivian squeaked, "...The shot glass?"

Mimi frowned, squinting at the imaginary vessels, and then muttered, "Uh... the mug, I guess..."

Memori’s eyes twinkled as she shook her head gently. “Wrong!" she said, overly cheerful. She glanced at William, who was now looking at the numbers in his head, quietly calculating

The man took a moment, lips pursed, counting silently in his head. “It is actually all the same", he said finally, calm but measured. "Two ounces of alcohol each."

"Exactly!" Memori clapped her hands softly, smirking. "Good job, Liam". She leaned back, satisfied, eyes glinting, voice still teasing. "Elementary maths, truly".

Mimi slumped further into her chair, having sensed Memori's pointed words, muttering, "I hate you right now…"

Vivian shivered slightly, caught between fascination and terror. Valeria sipped her wine serenely, utterly unbothered. Memori just twirled her glass, calm and composed, her grin faint but unmistakable, savouring the tiny chaos she’d orchestrated at the table.

***

Mimi let out a dramatic, flustered groan, her bold, seductive poise utterly shattered by the alcohol. Her pink hair fell over her face in messy strands, her cheeks flushed a deep, irritated crimson.

"That's it... I'm calling it", Mimi mumbled, pushing an empty glass away with a trembling hand. She swayed as she forced herself to stand, glaring through a haze of alcohol at the blackmail material sitting across from her. "I'm calling it a night. You're all evil. Especially you, platinum devil." With a defeated huff, she turned and stumbled blindly toward the stairs.

Memori let out a silly, fake-cheerful giggle, completely unbothered by the nickname. It was a fair title, considering how she had coerced the seductress into joining her in the first place.

Even without a drop of alcohol, the late hour and a long day of mental calculations were finally catching up to the strategist. Memori rested her chin on her palm, her platinum hair spilling over her fingers. Her eyes were heavy with sleep, but her voice remained perfectly clear and sharp.

Beside her, Valeria sat like a pristine statue. The angelic girl hadn't spoken a word all night, yet she had matched Mimi drink for drink. She looked completely untouched by the alcohol, her presence ethereal and glowing under the dim tavern lights as she serenely swirled her final glass.

William stepped forward from the shadows, his posture as impeccably cordial as ever. "A masterful display of endurance, Lady Valeria", he noted softly, before turning his attention to his mistress.

Memori didn't move her hand from her chin, but as the sheer exhaustion of the night finally pulled at her, she lazily shifted her weight sideways. She tilted over, leaning her shoulder and head comfortably against William’s side. The butler remained perfectly still, serving as an impeccable, steady pillar of support for his mistress.

"Liam", Memori murmured, her voice still articulate but completely detached from reality as her sleepy mind began to drift into a cheerful, rapid ramble. "Did you know that the bone density of a pegasus would theoretically require a diet rich in crushed pearls? We should buy a pegasus. Or a very large pigeon. A tactical pigeon, William. We could paint it platinum so it matches my hair, and it can carry my medical kit into battle, though I suppose the feathers would get terribly bloody, which defeats the purpose of a sterile environment, doesn't it?"

William didn't bat an eye, his expression remaining flawlessly cordial. "A tactical pigeon would indeed be an interesting addition to our logistics, Milady."

"Exactly", Memori sighed happily, her eyes drifting shut against his coat as her hand slipped off her chin, completely relaxed.

In celebration of Holy Day

Wednesday, 24th December 134 a.D.

From 6 o'clock to 12 o'clock

The Whitehall House

Dress code: holy

The classic Holy Ball full of gossipers and crazed believers. And of course you're assisting. It's been what, a decade since you last went to one? You kind of miss the smell of expensive alcohol and overwhelming cologne.

"William," you call your ever loyal butler that just entered into your office. "Do you still know how to dance and act all polite with arrogant people?" you ask, your tone teasing but serious.

William raises an eyebrow, a questioning look settling on his face. Nevertheless, he replies in a slightly amused tone, “If I may inquire, why do you ask, Milady?” He approaches your desk, placing a delicate cup of tea, its white porcelain reflecting your golden eye like a sparkling treasure.

"But to answer your question, Milady, I believe I am still able to dance and 'act all polite with arrogant people'. It is a skill I have to use everyday, even now." He shows a small smile, tilting his head innocently.

"Are you implying anything?” you ask, crossing your arms, narrowing your eyes playfully at your butler. You lean back in your chair, feigning a fierceness that only William finds amusing.

"Of course I am not, Milady," William quickly says, bowing slightly. "I was merely joking. Don't take the words of a ridiculous butler into account."

You stifle a laugh, demeanor instantly softening. "Well, you better be prepared, because we are going to the oh-so-holy, Holy Ball." You stop straighting your back and completely fall into the chair. "Which means fancy dresses and even more fancy people. Judging eyes everywhere and ladies that'll surely intent to court you, ignoring your reputation as a butler."

William chuckles, the sound rich and warm. “I assure you, my reputation as a butler is well-respected, though I’m flattered you think I’m worthy of courtship.” He walks over to you with an elegant grace, assessing you with playful eyes. “What type of gown do you envision for this grand ball?”

"Yeah, I say that 'cause last time, you were more the centre of attention than the Host himself." You roll your eyes light-heartedly at the memory. "And for the gown, you know I never chose them myself. They were always chosen by my mother, so..."

You tap your nails on the dark wood surface, the clicking sound echoing through your now silent office. You drag the moment for a little longer, before announcing cheerfully:

"Necromancy's not exactly legal, so you choose!" you declare, waving your hands. "You have that elegant eye for fashion, I'm sure. The important thing is to choose it for me, if the others need your help, then go ahead and choose for them too, but y'know. Just make sure it's 'holy' or whatever that means."

"Yes, Milady," William obeys with a bow. "Shall I contact Ms. Angela?"

"Oh, right!" You totally didn't forget about the fashion designer that literally made and designed most of your wardrobe. Yup. That's embarrassing. "Call her over. It's been a while since we saw each other anyway. She'll be enlightened to design another art piece, I'm sure."

5/01.

I have never used diaries. I don't have the nor patience nor the dedication to do it. I'll do it for them. I guess.

6/01/

Write the things that intrigue, interest me...

8/01

Potato.

3/02

Sweet potato.

2/02/

The DOCTOR is very annoying.

8/03

It's bored. [incorrect grammar: Es aburro.]

18/0 13/03

This cannot be any worse, but someday, they will die [illeggibile-it seems to be the word "when"] by their own people, no matter how much they deny it.

17/04

[The following paragraph was all scrawled over]

I know more about the red plague that's here. I don't have medical knowledge, so I can only wait [illeggibile] the reason why I am here.

03/04 *imagine attached

[The following paragraph was all scrawled over]

It's a virus that I think is very [illeggibile - it appears to be written "grutoso"] [illeggibile]. Couldn't it have been something else?

[Illegible] THING?? Horrible.

4/6

I'll exit. Maybe. Who knows.

I exited.

5/6

It's not that bad.

80?/08

THAT' finnici [smiley face]

800 8808

9/089

Insects are interesting... Very.

[bee drawing]

The other day I met a kind of artificial vampire. It's like a puppy. Does he drink blood? I'll ask him the next time we see each other.

10/09

He does drink blood, the scientists feed him with blood. Three times a day.

11/08

Kai ka has said that I should like diaries. I don't like how my diary is. I should organise it more. Invent symbols to make it look prettier and not write with hurry.

[Big scrawl that covers "not write" and takes up two blank lines of notebook]

[Spiral] Hello

[Spiral] Hello Hello, how are you?

Pills for the pain. Kai takes them, he says. 💊 They'll taste bad. Pills for the pain. For the aches. For the power they put in him. Telekinesis, gravity manipulation... The same, basically.

🌜 🌜 🌘 🌘 I don't know why I am here. Virus virus virus virus virus virus virus VIRUS VIRUS. Eyes BUNNY

Everything's true, Recruit. [smiley face :)]

New virus. How interesting. The doctor has commented to me about the virus. Red eyes. How gruesome. Eyes are so delicate...

👁️ eye veins arteries.

^ more or less? Cough, fever.

Hence ——> Weight loss

there are people that thought it is something good. <- They tried getting infected on purpose.

Hypocrites.

> Reddish Recently... They're stupid.

v [drawing of bruised foot and hand]

The joints become more or less reddish. "Natural blush".

The doctor seems more stressed. But he keeps being annoying. He visits less. So the other doctor let me go more with Kai. It's good. I wonder how's the vampire doing.

Helloooo!! ^u^ [smiley face]

Kai was here...

[Spiral] ♡ ♡

[heart with black outline and pink inside] :) Kai is funny. He gifted me this pink pen ♡.

I wish it were always like this.

1x day Prescription:

4x day = 1 morning

Pill #1 > (arrow going up to "1 morning")

Pill #2 (circled in pink) > 1 midday; 2 night

1 capsule

#2: TR. Always with two glass of water, no more nor less

#1: Less than three glasses.

--

(Simple drawing of a faceless head)

I would gift you a heart ❤︎⁠

--

(Drawing of a pink heart) Me too!! :)

--

RED PLAGUE:

Symptoms: cough (maybe bronchits), high fever (last days), nausea, dizziness.

Stage 1: First 5-10 days.

Pale skin, reddish, goosebumps, occasional nausea (6,10 6/10)