#boy lcb

“Yup,” Mallo said, gesturing toward Jekyll and Jatayu with a confident grin. Then her brow furrowed as she glanced toward Mark’s side. “Wait a second. That is not fair. How do they have four members?”

Dante tapped his PDA with precise movements, adjusting his suit as though each action was part of an intricate dance. “Considering that… Boy, please make another note of this report,” he said.

Boy nodded immediately, already scribbling, the tip of his pen scratching against the surface with urgent precision.

“Now that everyone is evened up,” Dante continued, raising his hand to still the chatter in the room, “a few rules have been added to make this challenge reasonable. They were devised quickly, but they should work.”

The air grew tense as he began to explain, his voice measured.

“Rule number one: Whichever team has fewer players, I will accompany them to assist, compensating for the smaller size. Rule number two: Both teams will relinquish their EGO Gifts to me for the time being, as they are an unfair advantage. The EGOs themselves remain with you, but any new EGO Gifts obtained after this initial removal will also be held by me. Rule number three: We will keep score based on kills. Class One peccatulum will earn one point, Class Two two points, Class Three three points, and abnormalities will earn five points each.”

Mallo raised a hand, cigarette dangling carelessly from her lips. “And abnormality minions?” she asked, her tone sharp and inquisitive.

Dante paused thoughtfully. “Technically, an abnormality could keep spawning minions. Perhaps half a point for each one,” he suggested. “Additionally, if an ally staggers an enemy and the team leader finishes it in the same turn, the points awarded will double. For humans you may encounter, please interrogate them; any useful information will net the obtainer a bonus of three points.”

“And using tool abnormalities?” Mallo pressed further, her eyes narrowing.

“That had not been considered,” Dante admitted, his tone calm. “But no. They may not be used.”

Mallo gave a satisfied nod, her expression hardening with approval.

Dante continued, his voice low but firm. “If any humans encountered are hostile threats, each kill will count as two points. Rule number four: If an ally dies for any reason other than sabotage from other teams, your team will lose half of its current points. If the team captain dies, all points accumulated will be lost.”

“What about ammunition?” Mallo asked, frowning. “It is not infinite.”

“I will ensure ammo is replenished,” Dante said simply, his tone carrying no room for argument.

“Rule number five: There will be no sabotage between allies or teams. Anyone caught deliberately sabotaging another will face punishment,” he added. Hyde whispered darkly in Jekyll’s mind: So do not get caught.

“In-team sabotage will result in the banning of the offending identity for three sessions, with repeated offenses increasing the duration. Sabotage against other teams will result in the sabotaged team receiving points commensurate with the severity of the act.”

“I would not complain about that,” Mark muttered, his voice dripping with sly amusement.

Alex’s eyes widened. “Since when can you do that, Dante?” he asked, incredulous.

Mallo leaned lazily against the wall, smoke curling upward, rolling her eyes.

“I will not pry further than recent memories,” Dante reassured them.

“Neat,” Alex said, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“There is no need to cheat,” Lenore added coolly, her presence steady and commanding. “We will be victorious without it.”

Dante’s hands moved again, the ticking of his clock punctuating the room like a heartbeat. “Rule number six: To ensure fairness, I will review your recent memories to confirm the accuracy of your scores. This will prevent cheating and sabotage.”

“Rule number seven: I will split your Sin Resource funds so that all teams begin on equal footing. Upon returning, all resources will be returned to their original totals. Rule number eight: The winning team will earn a twenty-pull for each member, two rolls on the reward dice, and one thousand tickets. The losing team will still receive one thousand tickets as participation.”

He lowered his voice, his tone dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Secret Rule Nine applies only to non-team captains. I need Mark and Mallo to leave the room so they do not hear.”

Mallo flicked ash from her cigarette and sighed. “Fine,” she said with quiet resignation.

“Yeah,” Mark muttered, stepping toward the door.

Dante gestured for the others to gather closer. “There is a secret rule for you all. Come closer,” he said, his voice hushed but urgent.

Jekyll edged forward, gripping her brush tightly, eyes narrowed in anticipation.

“Since Mark and Mallo are endlessly bickering,” Dante continued, his tone conspiratorial, “if you can help me improve the relationship between them, I will reward you handsomely.” He held up his clock, which gleamed faintly under the chamber lights. “If you can get Mark and Mallo to stop fighting and work together as a team, I will pay each of you twenty thousand tickets.”

The group exchanged glances, a heavy silence falling as the weight of the secret rule sank in. Jekyll’s lips twitched into a faint smile. Perhaps this will be more entertaining than the fight itself. It might be interesting to see if they can actually cooperate…

Hyde’s laughter curled through the back of Jekyll’s mind. Or perhaps we will make it worse.

Dante clasped his hands together, the ticking of his clock echoing softly. His voice carried a subtle urgency, almost a plea. “If you can stop them from bickering and make them function as a cohesive team, I will reward you all greatly—four-star tickets each.”

Jekyll tilted her head, a skeptical expression on her face. “You are placing a great deal of faith in us for what seems to be an impossible task,” she said softly.

“You are my only hope,” Dante replied, bowing slightly, hands pressed together in a gesture of earnest appeal.

Alex straightened his coat, voice crisp and confident. “Executive manager, we will certainly do our best to accomplish this.”

Jekyll turned her gaze to Lenore, her voice quieter now, layered with curiosity and doubt. “Do you think this is actually possible?”

Lenore’s eyes narrowed, her tone cool and measured. “I have my doubts,” she replied. Then, without another word, she stepped away, her presence commanding even in silence.

The groups split cleanly down the corridor—an invisible line drawn between them. To the east, Mallo led with Jatayu beside her, Jekyll lingering close, and the corporate recruits trailing like uncertain shadows. To the west stood Lenore, towering in her Big Sister ID; Mark, adorned in his immaculate Middle uniform; and Alex, his Heishou form sheathed in quiet menace.

The air felt heavy, as though the hall itself braced for conflict the moment their paths diverged.

Mark drifted casually to the right, his posture relaxed, his nails painted a dainty pink that clashed violently with Lenore’s massive armored silhouette.

Jekyll’s brows pinched, her fingers tightening around her brush. They get to use the overpowered IDs and I do not?Hyde stirred—smoke curling through Jekyll’s thoughts. The shift came naturally, too naturally. Jekyll’s form twisted into N-Hyde, her aura thickening, swallowing the softer angles of her previous expression. Wait— I did not mean—Her voice vanished. Hyde rose in her place.

Mark’s voice split the tense air, sharp and careless. “Listen, Grandma. I understand wanting to look older, but you already look old enough as it is.”

Mallo’s patience snapped like a frayed wire. “Save your insults until after the competition, Mark,” she said through gritted teeth.

“I am merely stating facts,” Mark muttered, smirking at his own wit.

“She is not the oldest,” Jatayu said—calm, factual, neutral as ever.

Mark turned to him with a single raised brow. “You are the oldest. But at least you are sensible.”

Jatayu blinked. “…Thank you?”

Lenore’s voice boomed from behind them, her Big Sister ID tightening her tone into a command. “If you win, you are going in the book, girl.”

Mallo froze, a small shudder running through her. No matter how many times she heard it, she never got over the lingering dread—the knowledge that their counterparts in another world were Middle. That she could have been one of them.

Her discomfort hardly mattered to Hyde. In fact, the faint tremor in Mallo’s shoulders thrilled her. Hyde stepped forward and clapped a sharp hand on Mallo’s shoulder, her grin slicing across her face. “Let us go purify some heretics,” she said sweetly.

Mallo met her eyes and gave a respectful bow, acknowledging the monster she walked beside.

Lenore, meanwhile, pulled out drinks with deliberate reverence—sharing them like sacred offerings among her group. “Here, brother. For the soul,” she said, handing Mark a fireball shot.

Mark downed it immediately. “Thanks, sis. Hits right where it needs to.”

Jatayu crossed his arms, his tone resolute and steadfast. “Do not worry. They use cheap tactics because they cannot match our strength.”

Lenore’s gaze snapped to him. “Insulting Middle’s honor? You are going in the book as well, little man.” She raised her glass high. “We drink early to celebrate our victory.”

Hyde barely held back a laugh—a low, delighted sound that hummed in her chest. The foolishness of the Middle never ceases to amaze me.

Mark leaned against the doorway, smirk still in place. “Not our fault Big Sis actually understands resource conservation. Not something the rest of you seem familiar with.”

His jab was ignored—or perhaps it was merely too petty for anyone to bother with.

The Middle group stepped into their assigned room first—and stopped dead in their tracks. Carnage lay scattered across the floor: shredded flesh, splintered bone, blood smeared in streaks along the wall like abstract art left in haste.

Lenore’s eyes widened. “Someone has killed before we had the chance! When I discover who did this, they are going in the book.”

Alex bowed his head respectfully. “A wise decision, my lady. Would you like me to confront them personally if we encounter them? Or shall I dispose of them on sight?”

Mark crouched beside a particularly well-flayed corpse, admiration gleaming in his eyes. “Well, well, well… Big Sis, I think one of ours got here first. This skinning job is immaculate. If one of our own did it, let us not add it to the books.”

Hyde tilted her head, analyzing the scene. There are already Middle members here—ones not aligned with our company. They must be ahead of us.

Lenore tightened her grip on her weapon, her stance widening protectively. “I am keeping both of you safe. If anyone tries to harm either of you, they are going in the books. And I will beat them to death with it.”

Alex bowed again, sincere and unwavering. “A most respectable decree, my lady. Your loyalty is unmatched. Still, I am only a tool at your disposal.”

Meanwhile, Mallo, Jatayu, and Hyde moved through the eastern corridor. The air grew colder, the shadows lengthening as if recoiling from their presence.

Three peccatulum bodies lay twisted across the floor—limbs broken at unnatural angles, faces contorted in their final moments.

From the other hall, Lenore’s voice carried like a blade scraping stone. “They will receive Middle judgement,” she declared.

Mark and Alex followed her, their footsteps echoing in tandem. Lenore lifted her book, eyes narrowed with righteous fury.

“Interfere," she warned, "and get booked.”

The chamber was dim, lit only by the low, sickly glow of unstable machinery buried in the walls. The smell hit first—burnt hair, scorched flesh, and something metallic beneath it all. Shadows clung to the corners like wet paint refusing to dry. Three figures stood over the gutted peccatulum corpse, their coats shifting and distorting as if something inside them didn’t fit the shapes they wore.

One body was blackened, cracked like cooled magma with fiery red light leaking through the fractures. Another gleamed in unnatural metallic blue, reflecting the dim light in slow, serpentine waves. The third moved like a human silhouette filled with water—rippling as it breathed, sloshing with each small motion.

The orange-coated one knelt by the corpse, a flaming blade lodged deep in its hide. Sparks hissed each time he sawed at the resistant flesh, sweat beading along his brow even as the fire lit his hands. “Just a minute,” he grunted. “This isn’t easy. Hard to cut something that’s built to resist you.”

The blue-coated one sighed, bored. “You done skinning the corpse yet?”

“Almost,” the orange one snapped. “Be patient.”

Chunks of skin peeled away in stubborn sheets, tossed with wet thuds into a sack at their side. The water-like figure leaned closer, movements fluid and too smooth. “Aight. Should be enough.”

Fear. Always start with fear. Weak men in hollow coats—snap one, and the others break on their own. Hyde stepped forward with slow, deliberate arrogance. Her boots clicked against the metal floor, echoing like a countdown. Then she struck—her hand shooting out, grabbing the blue-coated man by the scruff and yanking him upward like he weighed nothing. Her grin spread wider, predatory, hungry.

“Hi,” she said brightly, as if greeting an old friend. “What are you guys doing here?”

The blue-coated man yelped, kicking frantically. “Ack! What?! Let go! Help! Help me!”

“Answer my question,” Hyde murmured, her tone lowering to a velvet threat.

The orange-coated man scrambled to his feet, flaming sword still lit. “Hey, we aren’t looking for a fight—” His words caught as his eyes focused on Hyde’s aura, on the black-and-red halo twisting around her. “Wait. What is N Corp doing in P Corp? Why are Middle members here? We told them to stay guard! Traitors!”

Already unraveling. Good. Hyde’s expression cooled into something sharper. “I would like my questions answered.”

The orange man blanched. “Over our dead bodies!” Then Hyde’s eyes locked onto his, and the bravado died in his throat. “I—I mean… will you leave us alone if we do?”

Hyde’s voice dripped like honey over a blade. “I can promise that for the three of us. Who do you work for?”

The orange man hesitated. “Isn’t that classified? You won’t even tell me who you work for.”

Hyde’s grin widened. “I’d be delighted to exchange that information.”

Steps approached—Lenore, book in hand, Mark and Alex behind her. Her voice was steady, commanding. “We work for the Middle. Answer, or be written in the books.”

Hyde rolled her eyes. Oh, go ahead, coward. Play judge. I’ll play executioner. See which role they fear more.

The orange man’s panic deepened. “We made an agreement with you! Why are you here?”

Hyde dragged the blue-coated man slightly closer, her weapon grazing his throat. “Answer my questions, not theirs.”

“Help meeeee—!” the blue-coated one shrieked.

The orange one raised both hands desperately. “I’ll answer! Just drop him!”

Finally. Hyde loosened her grip. The man crumpled to the floor, gasping.

The orange one pointed shakily at the peccatulum corpse. “We’re… harvesting. Making equipment from these things. Like Lob Corp did. Insider project stuff. We—we work for a guy named Hex.”

The moment the name left his mouth, the air cracked. Mallo’s ID shattered—literally split apart like a broken mask, falling away in flickers of light. She hit her base ego hard, breath ripping out of her as if she’d been punched. Shock. Recognition. Then—

Rage.

Rage that flooded her face so violently it looked painful. She pushed past everyone, her stave snapping up under the orange man’s jaw, forcing him onto his toes. Her voice was a growl pulled from somewhere deep and wounded. “Who the hell did you just say?”

“W-wait wait wai—” the orange man stammered.

Mallo stepped in, eyes burning, pupils reduced to pinpricks. “Who. Did. You. Say?”

“Hex?” he squeaked. “Is—there something wrong? Did you… know him? At one point?”

Mallo didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe. Bloodlust simmered just beneath her skin, trembling with every heartbeat. When she spoke, her voice was venom. “Maybe you want to explain some more. I have a few questions.”

“He’s down there!” the orange man blurted. “Go ask him yourself! He was—he was dealing with something. I don’t know why he wouldn’t talk to you.”

The water-like figure shrugged. “Boss does the dirty work. I don’t question it. Long as we get paid.”

The blue one whispered nervously, “Careful what you say… Big Sis is here…”

But Mallo was beyond hearing anyone. Her hands shook—not with fear, but barely-contained fury. “Swear to gosh,” she spat, “when I get my hands on that bastard—”

She shoved away from them, storming down the hall, her footsteps hammering the metal.

“Wait! No, you can’t go that way!” the cyan-coated one cried.

The charred figure sighed. “Leave her. If she tries, he’ll kill her. He’s strong. Come here, let’s deal with this.”

He turned toward Lenore, eyes narrowing. “Why are you here?”

Lenore’s voice held cold authority. “To observe the terms of the agreement and how it progresses. We will be on our way.”

Mark and Alex rushed after Mallo immediately, no hesitation, their footsteps fading into the echoing dark.

Jatayu stepped forward with the innocent politeness that always seemed to confuse people who didn’t know him. “May we kindly investigate the room to your left?” he asked, as though asking permission to borrow a cup of sugar instead of entering a chamber full of corpses.

The orange-coated man shook his head violently. “Don’t. Don’t touch anything in there. We don’t want to fight that thing again.”

Jatayu’s eyes lit with curiosity. “Oh? Something to fight?”

“Yes.” The orange man’s voice dropped to a strained whisper. “An abnormality egg. We don’t… we don’t ever want to fight it again.”

Jatayu clasped his hands behind his back, smiling warmly. “Thank you for doing our job for us.”

“Wait—no, hold on,” the orange man snapped. His frustration cracked through the fear. “What are you doing here?”

Hyde slid up beside Jatayu, patting his shoulder as if he were a child who had said something dangerously naive. Her grin curled like a blade. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about half the time.” Keep them off balance. Smile, soothe, mislead—then twist. They’ll claw for answers, and I’ll give them only smoke.

The orange man’s bitterness rose to the surface. “The Middle didn’t answer us. They ignored us. Insulted us. If there’s a contract, why do they refuse to communicate?” His glare darted between Hyde and Lenore. “Can you answer our questions?”

Hyde tilted her head, her grin widening into something almost gentle—and therefore far more dangerous. They want clarity. They don’t understand clarity is a knife I sharpen on their throats.Her voice was light, almost curious. “What questions do you have?”

A thick silence closed around them. Even the air felt tense, coiled like a spring.

The orange-coated man exhaled shakily. “Why are you here? Did you clear floor one? There was no one up there.”

Hyde’s grin flashed, her chains giving a soft, eerie rattle. “Yes. Plenty of loot for you all up there.” Her tone danced between mockery and condescension. “What did you see on the lower floor?”

The man’s grip tightened around his flaming blade. “Mostly the boss’ doing. Something glowing… about dreams and promises. You give a dream, and something grants it.”

Hyde’s smile didn’t move, but her eyes sharpened. Dreams and promises. The oldest bait. Offer hope. Reap obedience. Let him talk. Fear makes them fill the silence with every lie they’ve been told.

“How did you get the tools for abnorms?” she asked, voice dipping into steel.

“Oh, I’m sure it’s from the peccatulum skin,” the orange man answered hurriedly. “Like—like this here. Helps us kill abnorms. It’s like EGO but… not. I don’t know. The boss handles that part.”

Hyde stepped in, her smile slipping away like a mask. “What’s your boss doing here?”

The orange man swallowed, throat bobbing. “Looking for someone involved with the Middle.”

A sharp, ringing clang split the air—Dante’s clock. His head snapped toward where Mallo had run. He’d seen it: her ID fracturing, shattering into raw ego.

Something was wrong.

“Boy,” Dante ordered, voice tight, “tell everyone the competition’s off. Something happened to Mallo.”

Boy didn’t hesitate—he bolted down the hall, boots pounding against metal.

Hyde turned lazily to Jatayu, her grin returning like a knife sliding out of a sheath. “Do we have any other questions, comrade?”

Jatayu puffed up proudly—theatrically. “No! We are simply here to suppress abnorms—for our great, magnificent, mighty leader!”

Hyde resisted the urge to groan. Fool. He thinks devotion is a shield. But devotion is brittle. When it breaks, it shreds you from the inside out.

Jatayu blinked, suddenly uncertain. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Ah. Alright then,” the orange man said, this time sounding almost soothed. The idiot believed him.

Hyde bowed with exaggerated flourish as her chains shivered. She turned sharply, catching Dante’s eye just as the orange man reached out to pull him aside.

“Come, ransom,” she snapped loudly.

Dante froze, confusion rippling across his face. The orange man paused as well, puzzled.

“Ransom. Come now.” Hyde’s voice cracked like a whip.

She seized Dante by the wrists—her grip harsh, ironclad. She yanked him forward, dragging him with all the theatrical cruelty of an executioner hauling a prisoner.

She leaned in close, close enough that only he could hear, her whisper a thread of venom. “Keep up, heretic. Don’t draw attention. Or I will purge you.”

Dante hissed quietly in pain as she pulled him down the hall, limp in her hands. Better they see him as helpless. Better they see me as the threat. Fear is a costume, and I wear it beautifully.

Behind them, chaos erupted.

Mark burst into the corridor first, weapon drawn. Lenore wasn’t far behind, book open and glowing. Alex leveled his gun, shots firing. Shouts slammed against metal walls. Steel flashed. Fire ignited.

The fragile balance snapped into violence.

But Hyde could not hear it for a moment as her identity cracked like glass under pressure.

Hyde’s silhouette splintered apart, dissolving into streaks of red-black smoke as the ID collapsed. Jekyll stumbled forward as if shoved from inside, her breath cutting sharp through the air. For a heartbeat she swore she could still feel Hyde’s fingers hooked around her ribs—pulling her forward, urging her on. She let go of Dante, wondering if he had changed her ID to get out of her grip. However, that was the least of her concern.

Hex. That name again. Ornella’s warned about someone like that. The drone whispered its name. All roads—every one these past few days—pointed to Mallo.

Ahead, Mallo stood trembling with fury, her weapon writhing and reshaping itself until it settled into a massive shovel. The rage rolling off her was almost physical—heat, pressure, something unhinged.

Jekyll tightened her grip on her paintbrush, grounding herself. She stepped forward. “Mallo.”

“Get the hell off me!” Mallo spun on her, lips twisted, eyes feral.

“Mallo,” Jekyll repeated, stronger this time. She grabbed Mallo’s wrist. “We cannot walk in blindly. The man the grunts mentioned—he’s looking for you.”

But Mallo didn’t hear. Or wouldn’t. Her rage crested and broke. With a shriek, she swung her shovel in a wild arc, aiming to crush Jekyll into the dirt.

Jekyll sidestepped, hooking her brush through Mallo’s grip and wrenching the weapon aside with a fluid, practiced twist. Their boots scraped over shattered stone. Mallo lurched, unsteady. Don’t attack me like I’m some child, I could kill you where you stand. 

Yet instead of calming, Mallo’s rage grew. Her weapon shimmered—fully a shovel now—its edge gleaming like a threat made solid.

Jekyll exhaled sharply in disbelief. She stared at Mallo with a hard look. “Really?”

“Get out of my way,” Mallo hissed, voice trembling with something deeper than anger—something desperate, drowning. “Or I’ll kill anyone who stands between me and him—even Dante.”

That threat hit the air like a gunshot.

Jekyll stepped back slowly, raising her hands, her expression cold with offended pride. “Fine. Go. But you don’t get to say I didn’t warn you.”

Dante spoke softly, “Mallo…”

“Yes, Dante, what is it?” she snapped without turning.

“We talked about this. You can’t attack others like this.”

“I don’t care! I need to do what I want—and you’re all getting in my way!”

“We are your team,” Jatayu pleaded, stepping closer.

“I’m trying to warn you,” Jekyll said through gritted teeth, her composure fraying. “You are walking into a trap. The grunts say Hex is looking for you.”

Mallo stalked toward her, eyes burning. “Yeah. And I’ve been looking for him.”

“It’s not safe—” Jekyll began.

“I don’t care about safe!” Mallo roared. “I’m trying to get what I want. Stay out of my way, you useless brat! What’s the worst that could happen?”

Jekyll has to control her expression and control Hyde from plummeting her into the ground. “You could jeopardize the mission—hurt Dante—”

“None of that matters!” Mallo cut her off, her voice cracking. “It never mattered to me! All of this—this whole stupid company—was a tool for me to get what I wanted. And what I want is more important than any of you.”

Something inside Jekyll buckled. A splinter. A sharp, clean break. Hyde started cackling in the back of their mind. I told you, Jekyll. I told you since day one. 

Jekyll closed her eyes momentarily. All of Hyde’s hatred toward Mallo suddenly made sense. She let out a shaky exhale, the pain she felt in her heart quickly resurfacing as the rage akin to Hyde’s. 

In a moment, any attachment she had to Mallo was gone from those words. All that was left was Hyde’s opinion.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice shaking with fury she rarely let surface. “I didn’t realize the only opinion that mattered was yours. Not the mission. Not the team. Certainly not Dante.”

Mallo laughed—shrill, deranged. “Well, now you know. None of this matters to me. You don’t matter. You’re all just stepping stones.” She threw her head back, laughter cracking. “I can’t die anymore. I’m immortal. This is going to be fun.”

Oh, you won’t be mortal forever, Jekyll sneered, rage boiling inside her. When that moment comes when we are released from this hell… Expect me to be standing over your grave, as the person who caused your death. This is a promise. 

Hyde grinned, agreeing wholeheartedly. 

Dante reached toward her gently—too gently—and she kneed him hard in the chest. He gasped, collapsing to the ground, and Jekyll moved before thought, dropping beside him and lifting her brush toward Mallo.

Protect Dante. That was the task. That was her anchor.

Mallo was no longer a concern to Jekyll’s mind. She was a threat that needed to be taken care of. Hyde burned inside her—thrilled, hungry, whispering that bloodshed was the clearest solution. Let me out.I’ll end this.

“No,” Jekyll muttered under her breath. “Not yet.” Not until we can assure her death. 

“You’re being irrational!” Jatayu shouted, taking position beside her.

“Irrational? Me?” Mallo shrieked. “Everyone here is irrational! I always get what I want!”

“There are better ways,” Dante choked. “We’re here to help—”

“What would that prove? That I’m weak?” Mallo spat. “I don’t need any of you. You don’t understand what I’ve dealt with. You never will. Just leave me alone. Let me handle this myself.”

Dante’s voice dropped into something soft. Heartbroken. “You want to deal with this alone?”

“Yes!” she barked.

Something in Dante’s posture shifted—quietly, irrevocably. He turned to Jekyll.

Jekyll met his gaze. She understood. She gave him a nod, hoping beyond hope they shared the same thought. Cut her off, Dante. Let me finish her.Yes, let us finish her Dante. 

 His eyes didn’t plead. They commanded. “Do it yourself, then,” Dante said toward Mallo.

The words hit Mallo harder than any weapon. She froze. Her breath stuttered—once, twice—like her body had forgotten how to breathe. Something had happened; she looked as if she suddenly carried the weight of her own life. “What… what did you do?”

She stepped forward instinctively, a trembling animal reaching toward a familiarity that had just been severed. But Jekyll’s paintbrush blocked her path, the wooden shaft as immovable as a gate slammed shut. Jekyll didn’t flinch. Her stance was iron. Unyielding.

Oh, things are about to get real.

Beside her, Jatayu lifted his weapon, his posture rigid with heartbreak.

The way Mallo looked at Dante—wide-eyed, betrayed, confused—told the entire party everything they needed to know.

Dante had let go of Mallo’s chain. He had severed their connection. She was no longer bound to him.

A tear didn’t fall, but her fury flickered with the ghost of one. “I should’ve expected this,” she spat. “You’re all backstabbing nobodies. Jatayu, I’m ashamed to have ever helped you.”

Jatayu didn’t flinch. His expression didn’t crack. “Says the one who decided our help meant nothing.”

Mallo’s breath came ragged, her voice trembling between fury and something rawer—something dangerously close to despair. She glared at Jatayu, eyes shining with betrayal.

“Jatayu, Jatayu… my promise to you meant the world when we were together.” Her voice hitched. “But you are not together—you’re against me now. And I don’t care if you are. You put yourself in this position. Do you understand?”

Jatayu’s face fell, sorrow carving deep lines across it. “I wish with all my heart this would not happen. But you are acting… like a jerk.”

The word landed like a slap.

“A jerk?!” Mallo shrieked. “I’m not a jerk! I’m getting what I want! What if I called you that because you want your niece back—how would you like that?!”

“You’re rejecting our help,” Jatayu said quietly. The steadiness of his voice only sharpened her anger. “You said you don’t need us.”

“I’ll prove it! Screw off!” she screamed, whipping around and storming into the next room.

The chamber beyond swallowed her in shadow.

It was darker than the corridor, the air thick with a cloying sweetness like rotting sugar. The walls and ceiling were crowded with crystalline growths—candy-bright, sickly beautiful, glittering even in the dim light. They pulsed in slow waves, faint hums reverberating through the room like a heartbeat that wasn’t human.

At the center stood a man.

His hair was snow-white and stark against the gloom. His dull gray suit shimmered subtly, as though dusted with starlight. His presence bent the room around him—commanding, theatrical, wrong.

Hex.

He raised his arms toward the crystals, speaking to them as if they hung on every word.

“Hahah… this is not a taboo. What’s that wish? Oh, star? I wish you to bring anything that is dead back to life in this facility.” His tone sang with manic delight. “It’s not a taboo—it’s an abnormality.”

Then he turned, smile slicing sharp across his face.

“Oh, heh. I was hoping we’d meet again, Mallo.”

Mallo stopped in her tracks. Her rage didn’t vanish—it focused. It condensed into something colder, honed.

Hex chuckled. “What are you doing here? Actually—no, I know. I’ve been watching.” He spread his arms wide. “Surely you’ve figured that out. I have fifty Middle members here. I have them all here. Surely you would have figured it out.”

He sighed dramatically. “You’re no fun. Where did the whimsical girl go? Are your friends shy? Come here. I’m not a threat.”

Behind her, Dante’s voice was low and urgent. “Please rescue Mallo if needed.”

Hyde stirred instantly—awake, gleeful. Jekyll almost scoffed at the manager’s command. She was ready to pounce, ready to take Mallo’s life the moment she was disconnected.  Rescue? No. This is perfect. My chance to finally kill her.But Dante’s voice tugged at Jekyll’s mind, a leash she could not ignore. Hyde almost exploded from rage. Jekyll snarled. Fine. I will just do it after all of this is over. Jekyll’s heart hammered. She felt Hyde’s agreement coil in her spine—not obedient, but aligned. Mallo’s words rang in her ears, and she couldn’t help but have the same desire that Hyde did. For once.

Mark, Lenore, and Alex entered behind them, weapons still glistening from the last battle.

Mark raised a brow. “What did we miss?”

His gaze landed on Hex. “Who the hell is that weird-looking guy?”

“Oh, y’all are back,” Dante said, relief slipping into his voice for the first time in minutes.

“We’ve returned from enacting our vengeance,” Lenore replied coolly. She spared Mallo a glance. “What’s with the girl?”

“Mallo’s in a vulnerable state right now,” Dante said. “Be ready to protect her.”

Mark shrugged. “I mean… alright? So who’s the weird guy?”

“All we know is that his name is Hex,” Dante answered.

“This is the guy the grunts were talking about,” Lenore added.

“They’re afraid of him?” Mark asked.

“They work for him,” Dante corrected.

Mark snorted. “He looks like a nerd. I can take him. Can’t believe he’s got the Middle under him.”

Hex extended his hands again, grin widening. “Come on now,” he chimed. “No need to be afraid.”

Jatayu stepped forward, lifting his hands in an exaggerated display of peace. “There you go! I am not your enemy,” he said, his voice loud and theatrical. “I’m just… a humble office representative and owner. I mean no harm, truly.” His expressions were comically dramatic, almost too scripted—every gesture dripping with forced sincerity.

Hyde curled inside Jekyll, whispering like poison behind her ribs. He lies. Every twitch of that face is a mask. He’s performing for us—playing the benevolent fool. Tear the mask, Jekyll, and the actor bleeds. Much preferred if you did Mallo first, though. 

Hex tilted his head. “Limbus Company, right?”

“Somewhat,” Lenore replied, her tone flat, guarded, unwilling to offer even a scrap of information.

Hex’s eyes narrowed. “And who were you? I don’t remember dealing with you.” His gaze drifted, sharp as a scalpel. “What are you—big brother’s blackies?”

Mark immediately slid in front of Lenore, his posture bristling. “Are you trying to disrespect Big Sis Lenore, manager of U Corp?”

Hex observed him with a lazy, predatory curiosity. “Why are you here, then? Did they call for backup? I can show you around.” He broke into a sharp, grating laugh. “Okay, fine—you’re not tricking me. I’ve been watching you. Lenore, right? You’re like… a crappier version of me.”

Lenore’s shoulders tightened.

Hex pointed to Mark. “And you—your attitude? You acted like me and Mallo when we were married.”

The entire group froze.

“What?!” Mark shouted. His arm shot out toward Mallo, then back at Hex, wildly oscillating. “Hold—no. No, no, no. You’re not about to imply I act like I’m married to this hag!”

Jekyll paused for a moment. She was married?! Is that why she has toxic mother tendencies? She talked as if… Jekyll slowly started to piece things together, but one thing was missing.

Where is her child? 

Hex smirked, amused. “How old do you think we are?”

“Forty-eight?” Mark guessed bluntly.

Hex shrugged. “That’s average. How old are you?”

“Twenty-one.”

“Oh, you’re a kid.”

Mark’s jaw clenched. “Talk crap and I’ll take you on.”

Hex’s smile widened like a slit in paper. “I don’t want to be your enemy. I have a… thing on my back. A friend. I wouldn’t recommend pushing it.”

“So?” Mark snapped, undeterred.

“You could fight me. Big mistake.” Hex waved a hand dismissively. “But I’m not interested in that. You’re Limbus Company. You’re here for the tree thing. I don’t really care. I can give it to you. I don’t need it.”

Mark turned to Mallo, throwing his hands up. “Can you reel in your ex? He’s crazy.”

Hex’s laughter echoed off the candy-crystal walls. “I am much stronger than her.”

Mark scoffed. “Have you seen her fight? She’s incapable. Even I can take her.”

“Don’t insult her right now,” Jatayu warned sharply.

“What’s the problem?” Mark asked, genuinely confused.

Then Mallo’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. “Why are you here?”

Hex’s smile softened, but the gleam in his eyes only sharpened. “You’ve been looking for me,” he said. “And I’ve been looking for you.” He tapped the side of his head. “You weren’t exactly quiet when you were screaming at your friends. Who’s your leader? Dante?”

He gestured casually, like this was a business lunch. “Come on. We are both small offices. Strike a deal with me.”

Mark leaned toward Dante and muttered, “Think he’s losing it? Are we beating him up or…?”

Dante didn’t look away from Mallo. “Don’t worry about him. If he’s being honest, we’ve got bigger fish to fry.”

His eyes stayed fixed on her—watching her, assessing her, preparing for the worst.

Mark walked up to Mallo and waved a hand in front of her face. “Hello? Mallo? Do you hear me?” He snapped his fingers.

Mallo’s hand shot out like a trap springing. She clamped onto Mark’s wrist—tight. Too tight.

“Ow—ow—ow—okay, you’re here, can you let go?” Mark hissed through gritted teeth.

Mallo finally threw his hand away with a sharp flick.

“Geez—okay,” he muttered, rubbing the red mark forming on his arm.

Hex’s voice floated back toward them. “You haven’t changed all these years, have you? You want revenge on me?” He tsked softly. “That’s cute. So sweet. You’re going to want to attack me, right? Here—one free shot.”

He pointed at Mark.

“Come on,” Hex taunted, his voice smooth as lacquered wood and just as cold. The grin he wore was far too sharp, stretching across his face like a wolf baring its teeth behind the mask of civility. He lifted his spear-staff with a flourish, its metal catching the dim light. “Just one shot.”

Dante trembled beside the group, fingers twitching anxiously at the edge of his coat. His voice cracked as he muttered, “Mallo… Mallo might distort soon. I know she said she wouldn’t, but—”

“Well, if she does, we kill her. She comes back. Easy enough,” Lenore replied, shrugging with the kind of casual fatalism only the Sinners could manage.

But Dante’s expression sank like a stone. He swallowed hard. “Not this time…” he whispered, as if confessing something he wished he could take back.

Mark didn’t wait for anyone. He stepped forward and swung.

His fist cracked across Hex’s jaw with a satisfying, brutal snap—an impact so forceful that even Hex, smug and slippery, couldn’t fully dodge it.

Hex stumbled, eyebrows shooting up in genuine surprise.

“Really?” Lenore demanded, rounding on Dante. “What happened? Please tell me this thing can’t sever our connection to you.”

“No,” Dante said quickly, shaking his head. “She can’t. Mallo—she struck at Jekyll first, elbowed me aside, and said she didn’t need our help.” His voice trembled, the guilt woven through it unmistakable. “I… broke the connection.” 

Before anyone could respond, Mark swung again—this time with full weight, full intent, and zero hesitation. His knuckles connected squarely with Hex’s cheek. The blow twisted Hex’s head to the side, and a spray of blood followed the motion like punctuation.

Mark wiped his hand on his coat, grinning. “I nailed your wife earlier. Thought I’d take a shot at the husband as well.”

Hex chuckled at that—actually chuckled—as he steadied himself. He reached into a pocket, retrieving a shimmering gem that pulsed softly with a terrible, deliberate light. He pressed it into a slot near the top of his staff. The weapon hummed, and a small glowing circle formed at the head, like an ominous halo.

“You know,” Hex said conversationally, as if they were discussing the weather, “I really did try to make this fair. Truly. But it was wrong of me to assume Mallo would ally herself with someone smart. She’s impulsive, reckless. You, Mark, are exactly the same.” He tilted his head, eyes glinting. “Honestly, she could be your parent.”

Mark gagged, recoiling. “What the hell is wrong with you? And looking at you? She clearly has terrible taste in men.”

Hex barked a laugh. Blood—his own—drifted upward, swirling around him like strands of red silk pulled by invisible hands. It gathered along the length of his glowing spear, clustering near the blade in an almost ceremonial fashion.

“Well then,” Hex murmured, grin widening. “Let’s continue.”

Hex brought the weapon down toward Mark in a vicious, sweeping arc—fast enough that the air cracked around it.

Mark jerked aside, boots skidding, the force of the strike sending sparks across the floor.

Lenore let out a low whistle. “And you cut her off? Wow. I’m not sure whether to say I’m glad or horrified.”

Alex’s head tilted, eyes narrowing with cold calculation. “This does not prevent her distortion threat, my lord. Would you like me to proceed regardless?”

Dante stiffened, shoulders tightening. “I—I meant it as a scare tactic,” he muttered, guilt thick in his voice. “God, I think I just made things worse.” He swallowed hard. “If we need to, knock her unconscious. If you can.”

Mark shook out his arms, wincing as he straightened. “I’ll say one thing—both of you really suck at killing me.” His grin widened. “Alex, do your thing.”

Alex’s voice stayed perfectly level. “Disable the target… or knock out Mallo?”

“Screw him up,” Mark snapped.

Alex bowed his head. “At once, my lord.”

Lenore’s voice cracked through the chaos. “Manager, are we engaging?”

“Get her out of here!” Dante shouted, pointing sharply toward Mallo. “NOW!”

But Mallo wasn’t listening. She surged forward, shovel raised like a warhammer, her breath ragged, her movements wild and furious. The shovel looked heavy—too heavy—her arms trembling beneath its weight as she swung in a brutal arc.

Hex darted back, the motion almost elegant in contrast. “You always were predictable!” he called, laughter sharp and cruel.

Mark’s chains whipped out again, the metal links flashing as they wrapped around Hex’s leg. Hex stumbled, falling hard to one knee.

“Agh—” Hex snarled, eyes flashing with annoyance more than pain. “Honestly? I’m disappointed.” He stood, brushing dust from his sleeve with theatrical disdain. “I thought you were better than this, Mallo. I truly don’t have time for this. Why—yes, I know.” He flicked his gaze toward the abnormality looming behind him. “Star. Dreaming person.”

The abnormal’s head tilted, its many-faceted face glowing faintly in response.

Hex smirked. “I wish they were dead.”

“Hex—!” Lenore snapped, stepping forward, but it was too late.

Hex hopped backward, almost gleeful. “Doodleloo~”

A shivering hum rippled through the air—then suddenly, with a sound like glass shattering underwater, dozens of crystallized stars burst into existence around them. They hovered in the air like frozen explosions, each one emitting a cold, unnatural light.

The temperature dropped instantly.

Jatayu’s feathers flared in alarm. “I… I don’t think this is normal.”

Understatement.

The environment twisted—walls refracted, shadows fractured, reflections multiplied until the team’s own silhouettes stared back at them from impossible angles. The crystalline stars pulsed, each beat synchronized with some deeper, unseen force.

Dante staggered, gripping his head as if the shifting world pressed against his skull.

And in the center of it all, Jekyll felt Hyde rise behind her like a second heartbeat.

Pretty, Hyde whispered. Sharp. Let them cut. Let them all cut.  Her grin burned at the edge of Jekyll’s mind. Protect Dante. Kill the rest.

Jekyll forced steady breaths, tightening her grip on the brush. Duty hammered through her chest with every thrum of the crystalline lights.

One task. One priority. Protect Dante. Even if it meant letting Mallo fall. Even if it meant stepping over her dying body. Even if Hyde screamed for blood and Hex’s madness filled the air.

This world—shifting, glittering, lethal—was now a stage built on tension, fear, and betrayal.

Before he could decide, the elevator jolted to a stop. The doors slid open with a hiss—and the hallway beyond was already full.

They stood waiting. Peccatulum. Twisted things, wrong things. Their bodies were vaguely human, but stretched and warped, like clay left too long in the sun. Limbs bent at unnatural angles. Eyes gleamed like shattered glass. Their mouths hung open, too wide, too still. They didn’t breathe. They didn’t blink. They just watched.

Boy’s jaw dropped. “What the hell are those things?”

Mark stepped forward, fists clenched. “Things we kill.”

Dante didn’t look up from his pad. “Peccatulum,” he said, voice clipped. “Treat them like distortions.”

Boy fumbled for his notebook, scribbling the word down with shaking hands. “How?”

Mark wiped his face with the back of his hand, eyes locked on the nearest creature. “We kill them.”

Mallo, unusually quiet, gave a single nod. Her fingers flexed around the hilt of her weapon, knuckles pale.

Dante sighed, his voice low and grim. “They’re too far gone. No redemption. No recovery. You kill them.”

Mark didn’t wait. He leapt from the elevator with a roar, boots hitting the ground hard as he charged the nearest peccatulum. Mallo followed, her blade catching the violet light in a flash of silver. Boy shoved his notebook into his coat, drew his identity gun, and sprinted after them. Lenore was close behind, her feathered badge gleaming like a warning.

Alex remained in the elevator, slumped against the wall, eyes closed. Whether he was asleep or simply refusing to engage was unclear.

Hyde stood at the threshold, untouched by Dante’s pad, unassigned. The peccatulum turned toward her, sensing something different. Something familiar.

And Hyde smiled.

It wasn’t the kind of smile that invited warmth or camaraderie. It was the slow, deliberate curl of lips that knew too much and cared too little. Her fingers rose to her hair, which cascaded down her shoulders in dark, undulating waves—like ink flowing through water. She began to pin strands with a casual elegance, leaving some locks to tumble freely, as if she were preparing for battle not with armor, but with style. Each movement was fluid, almost hypnotic, her fingers weaving through the strands like a spider tending its web.

Dante hadn’t moved. His eyes remained fixed on the frozen panel, the screen still locked on Hyde’s icon, flickering faintly as if unsure whether to obey.

Jekyll’s voice echoed inside Hyde’s mind, sharp and impatient. What are you waiting for? You’re already in control—go and fight them!

No, no, Hyde replied, her grin stretching wider, teeth catching the purple light. I want to use an ID. The one we gave him.

The elevator trembled slightly as the battle outside intensified. Screams, gunfire, and the guttural shrieks of peccatulum filled the corridor beyond. Hyde remained still, untouched by urgency. Her gaze slid toward Dante, who finally turned, noticing she hadn’t joined the fray.

Between the chaos, his voice reached her, tentative and polite. “Ah, thank you for standing with me, Ms. Jekyll.”

Hyde’s head snapped toward him with a suddenness that made the air feel colder. She tilted her chin just enough for her hair to fall back, revealing the full intensity of her expression. That smile—too wide, too still—spread across her face like a mask. It was uncanny, and it always made Dante shiver.

Her eyes gleamed with something unreadable. Do these morons never learn? she thought, her voice a hiss in the back of her own mind.

Dante flinched. “Oh! My apologies… wrong one. Thank you, Ms. Hyde!”

Hyde’s smile softened into something more dangerous. “That’s more like it.” She crossed her arms, the motion slow and deliberate, and turned her attention to the battlefield. Her comrades were locked in combat—Mark barreling through with brute force, Mallo slicing with precision, Boy firing in bursts while scribbling notes mid-dodge, Lenore weaving through the fray like a dancer with a blade. The peccatulum were relentless, their distorted forms lunging and twisting, but the team held their ground.

Hyde watched it all with a detached curiosity, like a queen observing a chessboard mid-game. Her gaze didn’t flinch as Mark was knocked back, nor as Mallo drove her blade through a peccatulum’s throat with surgical precision. The chaos beyond the elevator was a symphony of violence, and Hyde was content to listen to its overture from the wings.

“No need to thank me,” she said, voice low and smooth, each word deliberate. “I only stand here to remind you of what I said before. You seem to have forgotten.” Her eyes remained fixed on the battlefield, but her words were aimed like daggers at Dante’s spine. “You know what ID I want to use next. The current team has no synergy. It should not be a problem.”

The panel flickered again, as if responding to her will. Somewhere deep in the system, something began to shift—lines of code bending, permissions unlocking, a quiet surrender to her presence.

Dante’s fingers trembled as he tapped the panel, almost praying it would work this time. “I haven’t forgotten,” he said, voice tight with relief as Hyde’s page finally loaded. “You wanted to use… your Middle ID, yeah?”

Hyde tilted her head, considering. I suppose that one would suffice, she mused, her voice echoing inside her own mind. And we can use the maestro one for later. She nodded slowly, the gesture almost regal. It would be beautiful to see Mallo’s reaction to it.

The thought of Mallo’s pain stirred something warm and electric in her chest, but her face remained composed, untouched by the thrill. Her smile didn’t widen. Her eyes didn’t gleam. She was a mask of calm, even as joy curled like smoke inside her.

I don’t want either of those IDs, Jekyll whispered, clutching her own shoulders in the dark corner of their shared mind. I can’t be here for them. I want some say in things.

Hyde’s grin twitched, barely perceptible. Just let me take care of the combat, she muttered under her breath, lips barely moving. You’ll be back for the important stuff.

“I’ll have it out and ready to use once you get out of the elevator then,” Dante said, selecting the ID with a final tap. He glanced up at Hyde, uncertain whether to expect thanks or a threat.

Hyde turned toward him and nodded slowly. “Thanks, I suppose.” The words felt foreign in her mouth, like borrowed language from someone she used to be. Gratitude didn’t suit her—it hung awkwardly in the air, like a coat worn inside out.

She stretched out her knuckles, the joints cracking like distant thunder. The Middle ID crept over her like a second skin, cold and heavy. Chains began to form around her arms, spectral and metallic, binding her with purpose. Her brush dissolved into smoke, replaced by the infamous book of vengeance—its pages blank, waiting to be filled with names.

“This will be fun,” she said, voice thick with anticipation.

“Heck yeah! Go out there and kick some peccatulum behind!” Dante clapped, eyes gleaming at the sound of violence. Outside, Boy staggered under the weight of a blow, and Mallo drove her blade through another peccatulum’s chest, her face unreadable.

Hyde stepped forward, the elevator’s threshold humming beneath her boots like a warning. The chains around her arms rattled softly, spectral and metallic, and the book of vengeance pulsed in her grip like a heartbeat waiting to be weaponized. She turned back toward Dante, one brow lifting in faint surprise at the way he watched her—not with fear, but with something close to admiration. Huh, she thought, lips twitching. Guess he isn’t so bad. He seems rather happy about this.

Behind her, Jekyll’s voice faded into the walls, swallowed by the ID’s grip. The elevator sealed shut behind her with a hiss, and Hyde stepped fully into the corridor just as Mark drove his fist through the last peccatulum’s skull. The creature crumpled like wet paper.

“These guys are easy,” Mark said, brushing gore from his knuckles. “We beat them up, move to the next room, that’s all. Rinse and repeat.”

Boy nodded, still catching his breath. “Yeah, okay. That’s… simple enough.”

But Mallo wasn’t convinced. Her voice came sharp and fast, like a blade thrown across the room. “Why are they on the first floor? They were on the final floor last time. We cleared that. We cleared it!”

Mark shrugged, already bored. “Demon syndicates were there last time. Probably stirred them up.”

Dante, still fiddling with his pad, added without looking up, “Golden Bough was active too. Could’ve summoned them. That kind of resonance pulls these things in.”

Mallo’s eyes narrowed. “But why here? Why now? Why are they here?”

Boy, crouched beside a twitching corpse, blinked up at her. “Uh… bad luck?”

Mark snorted. “Middle couldn’t get to them. That’s all.”

Jatayu, adjusting his coat with a sigh, offered, “Surely they aren’t cowards. Maybe they just haven’t gotten here yet. Or they’re waiting. Or they’re watching. Or they’re just slow.”

Mallo’s gaze snapped to Mark, and her eyes flared with something between fury and betrayal. Her stare landed squarely on the Middle ID glowing faintly on his chest. Her lips curled in disgust.

Then her eyes slid to Hyde, who wore the same ID. But Hyde wore it differently. Where Mark’s was a label, Hyde’s was a crown. The chains shimmered. The book pulsed. Mallo’s expression faltered—just for a moment. Not fear, not quite, but to something wary. Something that knew better than to provoke.

Mark, of course, remained unbothered. He rolled his shoulders and looked around, as if waiting for the next round.

Mallo exhaled sharply, trying to regain control. “Which way do we go now?”

Mark raised an eyebrow, already fishing something from his pocket. “Flip a coin?”

“Yayyyyy!” Boy and Lenore chorused, their voices overlapping in chaotic glee with a tinge of sarcasm.

Mallo’s hands flew up. “We are not flipping a coin! We should be using logic! Strategy! We’re not children!”

Lenore tilted her head, her feathered badge catching the dim light. “Maybe randomness is logical. If we’re being watched, wouldn’t unpredictability be safer?”

Mallo blinked. “It’s probably just a hallway. If I had to guess. Facilities like this—they’re built differently. Symmetrical. Mirrored. It’s probably the same either way.”

Boy squinted down both corridors, then turned back. “So… we're blind? Can we just flip a coin?”

Lenore tapped her chin. “Pretty sure each path is equally likely to be a trap.”

Mark grinned. “Aight. I got a coin from a demon syndicate guy. He said it was lucky.” He held up a tarnished, jagged-edged token that looked like something had bitten it with too many teeth. He flipped it.

“Wait—wait! Which way is heads and which is tails? You can’t just flip it without saying!” Boy flailed his arms.

Mark caught the coin mid-air with a practiced hand. “The hall in front of us is heads. Right of us is tails.”

“That depends entirely on where we’re standing,” Jatayu muttered, rubbing his temples. “Orientation is relative. If we’re facing north, then—”

A brief, chaotic debate ensued. Fingers pointed. Directions were redefined. At one point, Boy tried to draw a map on the wall with his trusted pen before Lenore gently took the makeshift crayon from his hand. Eventually, they agreed: tails meant right.

Mark flipped again. The coin clattered to the floor, spun wildly, and landed with a dull clink—tails.

“Right it is,” Mark said, already moving.

They turned the corner and were immediately greeted by another cluster of peccatulum, their forms writhing in the shadows like a corrupted choir waiting to sing.

Boy’s eyes widened. “Do we… do we normally fight this early? Like, this soon after the last batch?”

Dante didn’t even look up from his pad. “This is a small amount. We usually face these little ones in the dozens. Sometimes more.”

Boy blinked, then nodded slowly, as if trying to convince himself. “Oh. Well. This is nice then.” He raised his gun with a shaky hand.

Hyde lingered at the edge of the corridor, her boots planted just beyond the hallway’s threshold, the hum beneath her feet fading into the distant thrum of combat. She didn’t move. Not yet. The chains around her arms hung loose, swaying with each breath, and the book of vengeance pulsed faintly in her grip, as if sensing the bloodshed ahead.

Mark surged forward in his Middle ID, intercepting a blow meant for Mallo with a grunt and a flash of steel. The gloom and gluttony peccatulum shrieked, their distorted forms lunging and twisting, but they were no match for the coordinated brutality of the team. The floor was slick with ichor within moments, the creatures falling one by one like puppets with severed strings.

Hyde watched it all with clinical detachment, her eyes narrowing as she studied the way each member moved. Their attacks were efficient, but their habits clashed with the identities they wore. Mallo’s precision faltered under the weight of borrowed aggression. Mark’s brute force was amplified, but lacked his usual restraint. Even Boy’s enthusiasm seemed warped, his Thumb ID pushing him toward recklessness. It was fascinating—how the IDs reshaped them, how they resisted or surrendered.

Her gaze drifted from the battlefield to Dante, who stood just a few feet away, half-hidden in the shadows of the doorway. He wasn’t watching the fight. Not really. His clock was unfocused, staring through the carnage as if trying to see something beyond it. One hand was clenched tightly against his chest, fingers digging into the fabric of his coat. His posture was uneven, shoulders hunched, weight shifting from foot to foot like he couldn’t decide whether to run or collapse.

Hyde frowned. She stepped forward and slugged him in the shoulder—firm, deliberate, calibrated to bruise but not break.

Dante stumbled back with a startled yelp. “Huh! Hyde! Ow… What was that for?”

Hyde tilted her head, suppressing a snort. So he would be really easy to kill, she smirked, amused by the thought. “You even fall like a stick,” she said aloud, voice dry. “Get your head in the game. Daydreaming is important for creativity, but not when it could be your last. Focus.”

Dante blinked at her, eyes wide, as if she’d just stepped out of a nightmare and offered him a cup of tea. He stared for a moment too long, trying to process her words, trying to reconcile the violence with the advice.

“I don’t recall you being the motivational type,” he said finally, rubbing his shoulder. “You’re right. Thanks, Hyde.”

Hyde didn’t respond. She turned back toward the battlefield, her chains rattling softly, the book pulsing once more.

She was watching.

And she was waiting.

Hyde’s gaze slid sideways, her expression unreadable as she watched Jatayu retreat from the fray. His coat flared behind him as he backpedaled, boots skidding slightly on the blood-slick floor. More peccatulum were pouring in, their grotesque silhouettes writhing in the violet light like shadows made flesh. The air was thick with the stench of ozone and rot, and the walls pulsed faintly, as if the facility itself were breathing.

“Cold feet, veteran?” Hyde’s voice cut through the chaos like a scalpel—precise, cool, and just sharp enough to draw blood.

The veteran paused mid-step, his breath visible in the chill that clung to the corridor. He didn’t turn to face her, but his shoulders stiffened. “My attacks in this ID are ineffective,” he said, voice clipped but not defensive. “In order to help, I need to trade my ID.”

Hyde didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she turned her attention back to the battlefield, where Mallo had just won a brutal clash against one of the newer gloom-type peccatulum. Her blade sang as it carved through the creature’s chest, and the corridor’s hungry acoustics swallowed its shriek. Mallo didn’t celebrate—she never did—but her stance shifted, just slightly, into something more grounded. She was in control. For now.

Hyde’s eyes flicked back to Dante, who was still hovering near the doorway, fingers dancing across his pad. “Isn’t ID choice your job?” she asked, her tone deceptively casual.

The insult was buried beneath the words like a blade beneath silk, but Dante, ever the optimist—or perhaps just distracted—missed it entirely.

“Indeed it is!” he said brightly, tapping the screen with a flourish. “Which is why I have a new one prepared just for the job!”

With a final swipe, Jatayu’s ID shimmered and shifted. The air around him crackled as the G Corp Commander designation took hold, his silhouette sharpening, posture straightening. The moment the transformation settled, he turned on his heel and sprinted back into the fray, coat billowing like a banner behind him.

Boy watched him go, eyes narrowing. “Huh,” he muttered, side-eyeing the new ID. He shuddered as if it recalled a memory for him. “Fancy.”

More peccatulum surged forward, their limbs scraping against the walls, their mouths open in silent screams. The team braced for another wave.

And still, Hyde did not move.

She stood at the edge of it all, her chains quiet, her book closed. The violet light painted her in shades of dusk, and her eyes gleamed with something unreadable. Not fear. Not hesitation. Something colder. Something more deliberate.

If I am to become the Maestro, she thought, I need to compose the energy I possess. Not squander it on every shrieking beast that throws itself at our feet.

There was no glory in killing these things. No music in it. Only noise.

And Hyde had no interest in playing to noise.

The chains around Hyde’s arms dissolved into smoke, the book of vengeance vanishing from her grip like a dream forgotten upon waking. The ID snapped off her like a second skin peeling away, leaving her in her base form—no longer cloaked in Middle designation, no longer bound by its hunger. The corridor’s violet light dimmed slightly around her, as if the system itself recognized the shift.

Jekyll stirred faintly in the back of her mind, a whisper against the silence.

Dante glanced over, catching the change. His eyes widened slightly, and he tilted his head, uncertain. “You okay, Hyde?” he asked, voice cautious. “Usually, you’re really eager to… paint…”

Hyde raised her hand to her mouth, fingers resting lightly against her lips in a pose Dante had seen before—too many times, in too many IDs. It was a gesture that always preceded something unsettling. Her eyes gleamed with a sly, unreadable light.

“These,” she said, voice smooth and low, “are not scum I deem worthy of wasting my time on.” Her smirk deepened. “Who’d be here to guard the manager from such harm? We can’t have you turning into a painting, no, no, that simply won’t do…”

You lure him into a false sense of security, Jekyll murmured, her voice tight with concern.

I won’t kill him until I have to, Hyde replied, calm and unbothered.

Ahead, the battle raged on. Mallo and Mark fought side by side, their movements surprisingly synchronized despite the tension between them—and despite Mark’s Middle ID. Mallo’s strikes were precise, her blade singing through the air, while Mark absorbed blows and retaliated with brute force. It was messy, but it worked.

Jatayu, now fully settled into his G Corp Commander ID, moved like a storm. He demolished two peccatulum in rapid succession, his attacks clean and efficient. There was no hesitation in his movements, no wasted energy. He was a veteran, and it showed.

Dante’s gaze drifted back to Hyde, the flames on his head cracking. Something about her posture—too still, too composed—made his stomach twist. She was trying to look neutral, maybe even helpful, but the smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth betrayed her. Just barely.

There was always something behind Hyde’s words. Something sharp. Something that hinted at harm. And now, Dante couldn’t tell if she’d been joking about protecting him—or suggesting she was the threat he needed guarding from.

He shuddered, visibly unnerved. “I think… we should go join the others…” he muttered, voice thin. Without waiting for a reply, he shuffled toward the door, trying not to look back.

The last peccatulum fell with a wet thud.

Mark wiped his hands on his coat and exhaled. “Hope no one distorts,” he said, half-joking.

Mallo laughed—a short, sharp sound—and nudged Mark with her elbow. Mark looked at her strangely in response. They walked forward together, side by side, their steps in rhythm before they each chose a different hallway to go down. Lenore followed Mallo, while Boy and Alex followed Mark. Boy looked visibly unnerved walking beside G Corp Jatayu, despite Jatayu’s sincere compliments toward Boy’s gun and fighting skills.

“The genders have split,” Jatayu observed. “Lenore and Mallo went left, and Mark and Boy went straight. Shall we split up?”

“I don’t really want to be with Hyde right now,” Dante muttered.

His fear was music to the painter’s ears, and she wished to feed off it. Hyde walked up next to the manager, her presence sudden and unsettling. “Why not, manager?”

Dante screamed—loud, sharp, like a train horn. “I… I feel as if we’ve been spending a lot of time together, and it might leave a bad impression on the others if people started thinking you were the favorite…” He was clearly lying through his teeth, nervous and twitching.

“How touching,” Hyde replied, her smile never faltering. I have you right where I want you.

Please, don’t antagonize our boss, Jekyll sighed, rubbing her temple.

“With your permission, I would like to join the boys,” Jatayu said, already stepping forward. “I have nothing against women, but hell hath its hatred against the scorned woman. They scare me.” He walked straight ahead to join the boys without waiting for a response.

Dante slowly turned to Hyde, his voice thin. “I want to stick with Mallo. I don't want anything bad happening… come with?”

Hyde was still smiling. “Sure.”

Dante didn’t fully turn his back toward Hyde as they made their way down the hall and turned left. He was trembling, shoulders tight, while Hyde walked proudly behind him, her steps measured and calm.

They met Mallo and Lenore, who greeted the manager with a nod and stepped forward into the central facility room. Dante entered first, clearly trying to put distance between himself and Hyde. In the center of the room stood a massive console, its surface flickering with data and containment logs.

The central facility room was colder than the corridors that led to it, as if the air itself had been conditioned to preserve something fragile—or dangerous. The walls were lined with dark, matte panels that hummed faintly, and the lighting overhead was dim but deliberate, casting long shadows across the floor. In the center stood a massive console, shaped like a hexagonal altar, its surface alive with flickering data streams, containment logs, and encrypted readouts. The glow from the screen painted the room in shades of blue and green, like the inside of a submerged vault.

“What are we looking for?” Mallo asked, already scanning the interface.

Dante hovered near the console, fingers twitching as he tried to make sense of the interface. He glanced at Mallo, who was already scanning the data with sharp focus. “You’re the one good at machines,” he said, voice tight with expectation.

Mallo didn’t look up. “You’re the one who rushed in here first,” she replied coolly, her eyes darting across the screen.

Lenore stepped closer, her feathered badge catching the console’s glow. “Is there a map?” she asked, her voice soft but urgent.

Mallo turned slightly, her brow furrowed. “Not exactly. No map, but there are notes—logs about abnormalities stored in the facility.” Her finger traced the screen as she read. “It says each hallway ends in a storage room. This one contains a chained beast… this one has a human energy cell… and this one…” She squinted, leaning in. “Something called ‘Blank.’ That’s odd. I’ve never seen that designation before.”

Lenore’s face went pale. Her expression tightened, eyes distant, as if pulled into a memory she hadn’t consented to revisit. “I hope it’s not ‘Nothing There,’” she murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

Dante blinked. “What’s a ‘Nothing There’?”

Mallo looked up, confused. “A nothing what?”

Lenore swallowed hard. “It’s an abnormality. One that the ID I’m currently using is familiar with. It’s… very bad.”

Hyde, standing just behind them, tilted her head. She couldn’t see the console from where she stood, but she listened intently. 

“Dangerous, I assume,” Lenore continued. “The logs mention two objects in one hallway, and one in another. But I can’t see the specifics.”

Dante’s voice wavered. “They’re contained, right? We don’t have to face them, do we?”

Mallo’s eyes narrowed. “I thought facing them was part of the job.”

“They’re pre-contained,” Dante offered, trying to sound confident.

“For how long?” Mallo asked, her tone sharp. “Are they contained because the system works, or because they don’t feel like leaving? How long until they do want to leave?”

Lenore stepped forward, her voice steadier now. “LCA wants their eggs, but abnormalities in their containment units work too. We just need to verify stability.”

Mallo straightened. “Then let’s go look.”

Lenore nodded, but added, “We should regroup with the others before engaging any of them.”

“Agreed,” Dante said quickly.

Mallo glanced toward a side corridor. “Maybe we can cut through here.”

Dante followed her gaze. “The hallways connect. That should work.”

The room buzzed with the low, constant hum of overhead lights and aging terminals. The air smelled faintly of dust and ozone, like a place that had been powered but forgotten. Desks were scattered across the space, some overturned, others buried under heaps of torn files and shattered monitors. It looked like someone—or something—had searched through the room in a frenzy, but not recently. The damage was old, the scratches faded, the chaos settled into a kind of uneasy stillness.

Hyde stood near the doorway, her eyes scanning the wreckage. It was hard to tell if anything of value remained. The mess was too deliberate to be random, but too chaotic to be useful. She tilted her head slightly, watching Lenore approach the central terminal.

Lenore’s fingers danced across the interface, her feathered badge flickering faintly in the dim light. “Strange,” she murmured. “This branch has no information on the Golden Bough. Or at least, not this floor. There are three floors total, so there might be something deeper in. If Ornella’s branch is anything to go by, it could be inside a containment chamber.”

“No harm in checking,” Mallo replied, her voice steady.

Lenore didn’t look up. “If we need to suppress anyway, Dante, it’s your call. But suppressing them regardless won’t change much. We’ve done it before. It’s tedious, but manageable.”

Dante rubbed his temple, gaze flicking between the terminal and the hallway beyond. “Hmm… It would make sense to see what we can do to suppress them for LCCA. But it would also be foolish to charge into their home without the full party. We’d be walking into their den with half a plan and no backup.”

“One of our gun users isn’t even with us at the moment,” Lenore added, her face expressionless despite the faint scorch marks still glowing across her cheek.

“You look… toasty,” Dante said, trying for levity.

Lenore blinked slowly. “Flames don’t scar too badly in this ID. We should regroup with the others. I suggest we head in the direction they might’ve gone.”

Mallo nodded and turned toward the right, following the path the boys had taken—but through a different hallway. The others followed in silence, their footsteps echoing against the cold tile. The rooms they passed were dark, their doors slightly ajar, but no light spilled out. It was as if the facility itself was holding its breath.

Lenore didn’t hesitate. She walked straight into the next room at the end of the hall, her badge casting a faint glow ahead of her. Inside, she saw them—peccatulum, clustered and twitching in the shadows. To the left, more movement. To the right, at the far end of the hall, the boys stood waiting.

Mallo stepped in after her, eyes widening slightly at the sight.

“Hi guys,” Boy called out, waving with one hand while the other gripped his weapon.

“I see our comrades up ahead,” Jatayu said, his voice calm, his stance already shifting into readiness.

Hyde’s gaze drifted toward the left room, her eyes narrowing. Dante, meanwhile, turned toward the right, lifting his PDA and using its screen as a makeshift flashlight. The beam cut through the dark, illuminating a heavy door and the faint outline of chains beyond it.

“That one might be the chained beast,” Dante said, voice low. He took a step back. “I… don’t want to go in there.”

The air grew heavier, thick with static and the scent of something ancient. Hyde’s gaze drifted toward the left room, drawn by a pulse she couldn’t name. It wasn’t curiosity—it was hunger. A threat to demolish. A challenge to meet. Something worthy of her time.

Without a word, she slipped away from the group, her steps silent, her presence unnoticed. The door creaked open just enough to let her slide through, and then it shut behind her with a soft click. She made sure Dante didn’t see her vanish, didn’t catch the flicker of her coat or the glint in her eye.

Inside, the room was pitch black. Not just dim—obliterated of light. The walls swallowed sound, and the air was colder here, like the breath of something buried. Hyde couldn’t hear or see anything at first, but then—

A low, distant horn.

It wasn’t loud, not to the others. But inside Hyde’s head, it roared like a train barreling through a tunnel. Jekyll gasped, recoiling. No. No, not this. Not again.

Scraping metal echoed from the far end of the room, dragging across the floor in slow, deliberate strokes. Hyde looked up, eyes adjusting to the dark.

She saw them.

Four figures, barely visible in the gloom. Their outlines shimmered with a sickly green hue, the unmistakable signal of a Green Ordeal. And they weren’t alone. Another presence loomed behind them—larger, heavier, wrong. All of them were TETH level. All of them were watching.

Hyde twirled her brush between her fingers, the motion fluid, almost playful. Then she reached back and pulled the door behind her tightly, sealing herself in. No cracks. No witnesses.

“Aight,” she whispered, grin spreading. “Let’s fight these motherf—”

The transformation hit like a wave.

Her body shifted, the brush in her hand warping into a jagged, ink-stained baton. Chains slithered up her arms, binding her wrists in ceremonial iron. Her coat darkened, stitched with symbols of Middle allegiance—Her boots clicked against the floor with a sharper edge, and her eyes gleamed with a violet sheen. The Hawaiian shirt laced her shoulders and fell to her sides.

The Middle Hyde ID was not just a look—it was a persona. A sanctioned executioner. A walking contradiction: elegance and brutality, artistry and annihilation.

Jekyll vanished, her voice swallowed by the ID’s grip.

Hyde admired her new form, flexing her fingers as the chains and tattoos pulsed with latent energy. She liked this look. It suited her. 

But against these robots, it wouldn’t be enough. She would have to hit them with something harder. 

Like an EGO. 

The door sealed behind Hyde with a soft click, swallowing the corridor’s light and leaving her in a room of pure shadow. The air was thick, metallic, and cold—like breathing through rusted wire. The four Green Ordeal units stood in formation, their frames twitching with unnatural precision. They weren’t just machines. They were rituals in motion. Each one pulsed with a sickly green glow, their limbs jagged, their movements too smooth to be mechanical.

Hyde didn’t hesitate.

She reached inward, into the marrow of her identity, and let the corrosion take hold.

The Stunted Mimicry EGO surged through her body like wildfire. Her skin split and reformed, red claws bursting from her fingertips, jagged and wet like freshly torn metal. Her jaw elongated, reshaping into a maw of blood and teeth—an echo of something primal, something that had never been human. Her coat darkened into a slick, crimson sheen, and her eyes gleamed with a feral hunger.

The second robot didn’t even react in time.

Hyde lunged, her claws carving through its chest with a sound like tearing silk. The jaws snapped once—twice—and the machine crumpled, its green glow extinguished in a burst of static. It didn’t scream. It simply ceased.

But Hyde wasn’t done.

The red faded, and a new presence overtook her—a cold, blue shimmer that crawled up her spine like frostbite. The Faint Aroma EGO enveloped her, wrapping her limbs in translucent mist. Her breath became visible, each exhale stealing warmth from the room. Her veins pulsed with a pale glow, and her eyes turned glassy, distant, like someone halfway submerged in ice water.

The first robot—already doomed—shuddered once and collapsed. No impact. No final blow. Just death. Quiet and complete.

Hyde staggered, her body flickering between forms, barely holding together. The third robot lunged, and she countered, claws meeting steel in a burst of sparks. But the third and fourth struck her from both sides, their blows landing hard—one to the ribs, the other to her shoulder. She reeled, blood splattering across the floor in a wide arc.

She dropped to one knee, panting, her vision swimming.

The robots paused. They didn’t advance. They didn’t retreat. They simply stood there, awkwardly, as if waiting for protocol to catch up with reality.

Hyde coughed, wiped blood from her mouth, and pushed herself upright. Her legs trembled, but her grin returned—wide, crooked, and full of malice.

The fourth robot twitched, then charged.

Hyde met it head-on. She clashed, her fists banging against its arm, and this time she won. With a roar, she drove her fist into its face, sending it flying across the room. It crashed into the wall with a crunch, limbs splayed like a broken marionette.

She reached into her coat and pulled out a half-crushed bottle of vodka from a previous mission. The label was torn, the glass chipped, but it was still sealed. She popped the cap and chugged it, the burn slicing down her throat like fire. Her wounds didn’t close, but the pain dulled, just enough to keep her standing.

The fourth robot—still guarding—twitched again. The third, somehow still functional, limped forward for another strike.

Hyde didn’t wait. She surged forward, fists glowing with residual frost and blood, and struck both in a single motion—one upward slash, one downward crush. The room lit up with green sparks as both machines collapsed, their cores ruptured, their limbs twitching in final spasms.

Hyde stood in the center of the wreckage, blood dripping from her chin in slow, deliberate rivulets. Her coat was torn at the shoulder, one sleeve shredded, the fabric soaked in a mix of her own blood and the green fluid that had once powered the ordeal units. Her breath came in ragged bursts, each inhale scraping against bruised ribs. She had almost died. The hits had been brutal, relentless. But somehow—through grit, corrosion, and sheer spite—she made it out alive.

Ugh, she thought, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. That shouldn’t have been that difficult. If I was at full power, I’d have—

The door burst open.

Light spilled into the room, casting long shadows across the carnage. The rest of the party flooded in, weapons drawn, eyes wide. Mallo was first, blade already half-raised. Mark followed, fists clenched. Lenore’s badge glowed faintly, scanning for threats. Jatayu stepped in with practiced calm, while Boy stumbled in behind them, eyes darting across the wreckage.

Dante was last, breathless and worried, panic etched into every line of his flames.

Hyde didn’t turn. She just smiled.

Mallo’s voice rang out, sharp and accusatory. “What were you doing?”

Hyde tilted her head slightly, her grin widening. “What does it look like?”

Mark snorted. “Getting beat up.”

Hyde finally turned, her eyes gleaming. “There were four of them,” she said, gesturing to the twisted remains scattered across the room. “I beat them all to rubble.”

Mallo’s gaze flicked to the Middle ID still clinging to Hyde’s form. Her eyes narrowed, and without a word, she turned and walked away, her coat flaring behind her.

Dante stepped forward, voice cracking. “Hyde, that was dangerous! You could’ve died!”

Hyde shrugged, the motion stiff but defiant. “I’m alive, aren’t I?” She smirked, blood still drying on her teeth. “I used only one skill the whole time, too.”

Mark crossed his arms, eyeing the wreckage. “Barely.”

The room was silent for a moment, save for the soft hum of the dying terminals and the faint buzz of Hyde’s lingering EGO. The others lowered their weapons, tension slowly bleeding out of their stances.

Hyde stood tall in the center of the wreckage, her silhouette framed by the flickering remains of the ordeal units. The chains around her arms rattled softly, their weight a reminder of the power she had wielded—and the toll it had taken. Blood still dripped from her chin, slow and deliberate, tracing the torn edges of her coat. Her breath came in shallow bursts, each inhale scraping against bruised ribs. She was battered. She was bleeding.

But she was proud.

She ignored whatever Mark muttered next, tuning out the noise of the others as she pulled out her book of vengeance. The pages were stained, warped from previous battles, but still legible. She crossed out the names of the four robots with precise, deliberate strokes, each mark a small act of closure.

Then, without hesitation, she wrote Mallo’s name.

Not for justice.

Not for duty.

But out of spite. Out of the slow-burning hatred that had built up over time—through glances, through dismissals, through every moment Mallo had looked at her like she was a threat instead of a teammate.

Mark my words, Mallo. I will be your demise. That is a vow on my life. 

The ID broke off with a hiss, the chains dissolving into smoke, the book dimming in her hands. Her body sagged slightly, the adrenaline fading, leaving behind exhaustion and ache.

From the hallway, Mallo’s voice drifted in, sharp and cold. “Jekyll was carrying.”

Hyde’s eyes narrowed.

Mark’s voice followed, casual and dismissive. “We would’ve been fine without Jekyll.”

Hyde adjusted her paintbrush and turned to Dante, motioning silently. She wanted to be rewound. Her body was screaming for it, and she didn’t want to show weakness by asking aloud.

Dante hesitated, his fingers hovering over the pad. “I hope you think long about this, Hyde,” he said quietly.

Hyde tilted her head, her smile returning, crooked and bloodstained. “Why? They’re the ones that died.”

Mark scoffed, overhearing the conversation. “You barely didn’t. You look like you got hell beaten out of you.”

Lenore stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. “We’re not idiots who barge into rooms without knowing what’s on the other side.”

Hyde’s smile didn’t fade, but her eyes sharpened. Right, she thought, because you’re not powerful enough to take them on like I can. I don’t see the rest of you pulling feats like I can. She didn’t say it aloud. But the silence that followed was heavy with implication.

The room was quiet now, save for the soft hum of the dying terminals and the distant echo of footsteps in the hall. Hyde stood in the center of it all—wounded, defiant, and utterly alone in her triumph.

The rewound worked. Jekyll returned to the front, her breath shallow, her body still echoing with the pain Hyde had endured. Her fingers trembled slightly as she traced her brush across the floor, trying to ground herself in the present while Hyde’s memories surged behind her eyes.

Wow, Hyde, I’m impressed you did that, Jekyll began. But can we not get so close to death next time?

We were fine, Hyde wiped her face with malice. The team is overexaggerating. 

In the hallway, Mallo’s voice cut through the quiet. “Why would those robots be in there? That room looked abandoned.”

Mark shrugged, glancing back toward the wreckage. “Maybe someone put them there deliberately.”

Lenore stepped forward, her tone clinical. “It’s possible they were shoved in during an escape attempt. If that had been an abnormality instead of robots, Hyde probably would’ve died.”

Mark scoffed. “If it had been an abnormality, I would’ve taken care of it.”

Oh please, Hyde muttered from the back of Jekyll’s mind, her voice dry and venomous. Your ego would’ve killed you before the abnormality even got the chance.

“You weren’t there,” Lenore said sharply, not bothering to look at him.

Mallo turned to Mark, unimpressed. “There were only four robots in there, right?”

Jekyll nodded slowly, still catching up to the moment.

“But why?” Mallo continued. “The computer only listed one. Why were there more?”

Jekyll began to zone out as Mark started speculating again. She tried to focus, tried to stay present, but Hyde’s voice was louder, recounting every clash, every blow, every moment of near-death triumph. Jekyll traced her brush in slow circles across the ground, not paying attention to the conversation around her.

Whenever they pull of feats, they get praise, Jekyll gripped her paintbrush. But all we get is ridicule for our achievements. 

Feats are not won by simply standing around and not taking risks, Hyde added. 

Why? Why do they get praise? It’s not fair, Jekyll could feel anger burning in her chest. I… we… deserve recognition. 

Yes, yes we do, Hyde’s tone was slurred and deceptive. So you’re beginning to understand why we needed to get to the top of everything we were a part of. 

No, that’s different, I just wanted to paint because…

Life became better once people respected us, no? 

Jekyll didn’t reply. She knew Hyde was right. She knew she agreed with the painter. The critical words of the party stung like a bee. It would be a wound she would not forget. 

Then Dante spoke, breaking through the haze. “The robots are formed by the Golden Boughs—manifestations of doubt. Are we saying that Mallo the Boastful has doubts?”

Mallo laughed, tossing her hair as she walked away. “Please. I’d never have doubts.”

Jatayu stepped in, his voice calm and measured. “We did well overall, but I think we could improve our strategy.”

Mark crossed his arms. “Half the time, we’re just taking hits for you.”

Jatayu frowned. “It’s unfortunate. I couldn’t protect anyone during that fight. No one was defending. I’m supposed to boost defenses in this ID, but I wasn’t able to contribute. I’d like to go first more often.”

Mark shook his head. “When I go first, I deal better damage. I’ll stay first. The strongest should lead.”

“I’m strong,” Jatayu replied. “And I have leadership experience.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “You do know your wing fell, right?”

Jatayu’s expression darkened. “What happened to G Corp?”

“You lost the war,” Mark said simply.

A sharp crack echoed through the room as Jatayu’s ID shattered like glass. He staggered slightly, returning to his base form with a grimace. “That was… an experience.”

Mark glanced around. “Hyde almost got herself killed. Mallo’s in her usual pissed-off mood.”

Jatayu turned to Alex. “Anything to report?”

Alex turned slowly and shrugged.

“What’s this about Hyde almost dying?” Jatayu asked, his voice low.

Jekyll stepped forward, her voice quiet but firm, as if she tried to stand up for herself. “Hyde defeated four robotic green ordeals. And she lived through it.”

Jatayu nodded. “I’m glad she survived. But she might want to be more careful next time.”

Seriously, you too? Jekyll couldn’t bring herself to keep Jatayu out of the rage boiling within her.

Mark scoffed. “She ran off. She could’ve died.”

“But she didn’t,” Jekyll replied, trying to keep her tone cool despite her emotion. “And I didn’t have much say in the matter anyway.”

“She was barely alive,” Mark muttered. “One cough and she would’ve imploded.”

“We did find Hyde pretty badly injured,” Dante added, rubbing the back of his neck. He defended the other’s accusations quickly. 

Jekyll’s eyes narrowed. “Well, she lived, only using one skill for the entire fight against four attackers. I don’t think any of you could’ve pulled that off.”

But the party was not listening. The others turned toward Alex, shifting focus. They began lecturing him on the first EGO he’d found, explaining its properties, how to activate it, how to survive it.

Jekyll stood quietly, her brush still tracing the floor. Bastards. They don’t understand. We… you did great, Hyde. You wouldn’t have taken that risk if you didn’t know Dante could bring you back, right?

Why is it their problem? Hyde whispered. They shouldn’t care if I live or die. We have infinite lives, now. Of course if I was on one life I’d be more strategic, but even if so, we would have survived. These idiots clearly don’t get it. 

The attempt to snatch a few moments of sleep in one of the front seats of the bus was short-lived. With a sudden, jarring halt, Charon slammed on the brakes, causing Jekyll to be jolted awake and thrown from her chair, landing forward with Boy, Alex, and Jatayu, who were similarly flung from their seats by the abrupt stop, stirring everyone else from their slumber. The bus brakes screeched, and everyone groaned from their new injuries. 

“Ah, we’ve arrived,” Vergilius was unmoved by the sudden halt. “Everyone to your feet.” 

“Ow,” Boy rubbed his head, wincing as he pushed himself off the dirty floor. 

Alex groaned as well, seemingly trying to wake up still. 

Jekyll groaned as she got up, her eyes twitching as she heard Mark snoring beside her. “What the heck?” She glared at Charon, who did not turn back to look at anyone. 

“Why does nobody strap in?” Lenore asked, gesturing to the seatbelt across her waist. “It would help you all.” 

We didn’t expect to have a terrible driver, Hyde snapped in Jekyll’s head, silently plotting a just-in-case death. 

“Charon is a safe driver,” she commented. 

Oh, now I’m really going to kill h—

“You really are, ow…” Boy sighed, slumping back into his seat.

Jekyll decided to follow the social norm she had picked up on. “Great job, Charon…” 

“Thank you, lady,” Charon finally whipped her head around and softly smiled at Jekyll.

She was taken aback and scratched her head. Awh, that was…

Hyde seemed to backtrack as well. 

Mallo swung her legs off the adjacent seat and groaned, getting up from the back and walking toward the front. She scoffed as she glared at Mark before strolling over and clapping loudly in front of his face. “Oi, chap, get up,” she snapped.

Mark cursed under his breath as he startled awake, glaring back. “Ugh, you could’ve done a better—” he was cut off mid-snore as he rubbed his eyes. “Give me a second…” His eyes looked dreary and heavy, but he responded quickly. “Okay, I’m good, what happened?” 

“We're here. Get up.” She demanded. 

“We have arrived,” Lenore added. 

“Aren’t we having like a small meeting where we get all the information?” Mark groaned. “Couldn’t you have woken me up after that?” 

Mallo’s patience was growing thin already. “No, Mark, because it’s important that you listen and know what we are doing!” 

“I’ve slept through half of these and I’ve still done my job.” 

The manager finally turned around to see the commotion. “Half?” He stammered. “We’ve only had one.” 

“Eh, I mean—” 

“And I assume you’ve slept through that,” Lenore cut him off. “Half of your round up.” 

“We’ve had the training manuals, the instructions, and more. I got the gist of it.” 

Mallo groaned and rubbed her face, turning away from him. “Man, no wonder you’re useless,” she mumbled and shook her head as she looked at the guide. 

Mark grinned. “You say that, yet I am the one who figured out the whole thing with Maut, the insurance. I lead combat, so let’s not talk about uselessness here. I may be lazy, but at least I know what I’m doing half of the time.” 

Lenore rubbed her temples. “Oh, gosh… things are getting off to an excellent start, I see.” 

Mallo simply ignored Mark. Her gaze was stuck on Vergilius as if she waited for him to give the instructions. 

Jekyll took the time passed by the argument to look outside. She saw little to no city lights… in fact, she didn’t see the city at all. “...Where are we anyway?” 

They were certainly far from the familiar cityscape they had known. As the party's focus shifted, their eyes wandered to the world beyond the bus windows. At first, it seemed deceptively ordinary—stone brick buildings sat stoically under the blanket of the night sky, a disorienting sight given that it was clearly the afternoon. The strange contrast tugged at their sense of reality, the mundane and the surreal locked in an inexplicable dance.

The land around them felt untouched, wild, and untouched by human hands. Jagged rocks, both large and small, dotted the terrain like relics of a forgotten age. The trees stood tall and silent, their silhouettes etched against the deep hues of twilight. This was not a place that welcomed life; it felt remote, unclaimed, and solemnly aloof, as though it actively resisted being known.

The soundscape of the moment was gentle yet striking. Crickets serenaded the stillness with a soft, steady rhythm, weaving their song through the persistent hum of the bus engine. It was a melody that could have lulled the unguarded into a daze, yet the starkness of the scene kept the party alert. Each member sensed an underlying tension in the air—a subtle charge that suggested there was more to this environment than met the eye.

Above, the sky stretched endlessly, free of the heavy clouds that had always shrouded the city. Stars glittered with uninhibited brilliance, their celestial dance breathtaking in its grandeur. There were so many—countless points of light, each seemingly alive, pulsating with a vibrancy that one rarely saw. Their varied colors spilled across the heavens, creating an artistic masterpiece that defied any earthly comparison. The hues blended seamlessly, radiant streaks of blue, crimson, gold, and violet shimmering like freshly laid brushstrokes, beckoning the viewer to pause and marvel.

The party couldn't help but feel like intruders in this untouched expanse, passengers on the fringe of a vast, uncharted realm. The landscape whispered mysteries in its silence, daring them to uncover what secrets lay hidden beneath its stark beauty. Jekyll’s jaw slackened, staring up in awe at the stars. The stars… we… we finally get to see them…

How inspiring. Hyde’s voice was also full of wonder. Look how beautiful the colors work… 

“We are just outside of District 17,” Vergilius explained. 

“The outskirts?” The window lost the prisoner's attention. “Ain’t that the place where all them monsters are roaming about?” He looked back outside. “This doesn’t look like a place where mobs would be roaming around.” 

“I don’t see any at the moment, perhaps,” Lenore countered. 

“I don’t know, man. You hear and see people talking about stepping into the outskirts, and getting swarmed by monsters, and getting killed. This looks like the outskirts, but maybe it’s the city, I don’t know.” 

“Maybe they can just tell the Red Gaze is here or something.” Lenore guessed, throwing the idea out there like darts on a board. 

Alex visibly pales, the blood draining from his face at the mention of the outskirts, causing a few raised eyebrows to be cast in his direction. 

What’s his deal? 

Jekyll shrugged at Hyde’s comment, not caring too much about the matter.

Mark rolled his eyes. “No offense, Lenore, I don’t imagine that the outskirts would know who the Red Gaze is. It’s more of a city thing and less of a monster-knowing what the hell a color ranking is, right, Vergi?” 

“Maybe they can just detect… strange power. Maybe Dante affects them in some capacity; perhaps he has an aura about him that discourages monsters and abnormalities from approaching the bus.” Despite her efforts to sound concrete, Lenore did not sound sure of her explanation herself, as if she was just pulling it out of the sky on a whim. “Golden boughs do weaken abnormalities, correct?” 

Kuvira slowly got up from the back seat, making her way toward the center of the back of the bus as she listened to her conversation. Her face was furrowed and confused, as if she had heard something that struck a memory. “This isn’t just the outskirts, though… is it…?” Her voice was soft and carried an underlying tone that Jekyll couldn’t quite identify. 

The bus grew silent as people turned their faces toward her. It was not often that the bus had calmed down over one person speaking up; not even Vergilius could successfully do that every time. It was something about the way Kuvira said it, perhaps, or a type of authority she carried. 

A type of power she had. 

You’re insane, Hyde. 

Vergilius slowly nodded, almost expecting someone to chime in, but nobody did. He gestured outside toward the darkness. “We are currently in the remains of Z Corp, post Smoke War.” 

Kuvira slowly nodded and went back to her seat, her usual glowing skin dimming as if to match the darkness. She glanced out the window, leaning her elbow on the seat, and heaved a great sigh, her eyes somewhere else. 

What is her deal? 

“We will be handling a more… diplomatic mission of sorts,” the Red Gaze continued. “I entrust that you are all aware of what diplomacy is, yes?” 

Mark shrugs. “Ehh…” 

“Yeah, a little bit,” Boy commented. 

Mallo turned in her seat to face the guide. “Yeah, it’s like talking and stuff, to make a deal, right?” 

“Just to ask ahead, if diplomacy fails, what’s our other option?” Mark inquired, clearly not liking the idea of negotiating with an outsider. 

How ironic, he used to do it all the time. Hyde grinned in Jekyll’s mind. He must have gotten sick of it. 

I mean, it is easier to bash someone’s head in and take what we need. 

Look at you being so vulgar. 

The prisoner received a red, harsh glare before his reply was generated. “If this does not go as intended… Limbus Company will try another form of persuasion. However, doing it this way will entitle you all to a free life lesson.” 

“The life lesson of… what? That we have a chance to suck at talking?” 

“You might suck at talking,” Boy chimed in, somewhat excited about the idea. “But I am fairly confident that I can talk.” 

“What, and the lesson being violence isn’t always the solution?” Mallo was the last person Jekyll expected to agree with Mark on the matter, nevertheless, it was she who spoke the thought. “Really? Like, no offense, but we are not five.” 

The thousand-yard stare the guide ripped from Mark and placed on Mallo was one of a kind and said wonders about her statement, as if he couldn’t think of a more obvious lie. 

“Not to bring your point down, Mallo, but we did get into many childish fights all last mission,” Mark sat back in his seat, proud of his observation. 

“You two got into a childish fight when you were training me,” Boy added. 

The prisoner did not like that comment. “Hold up, it wasn’t a childish fight, we specifically told—”

Boy, Mark, and Mallo proceeded to talk over each other for the next five minutes. The doctor leaned back in her seat and buried her face in her hands. This is why we can’t ever get anything done. She nor Hyde saw the point in keeping up with their aimless arguing that derailed off the topic very quickly. 

“This is why you two need to be in separate rooms,” Boy stated calmly, gesturing with both of his hands oddly. 

“We are in separate rooms!” Mallo and Mark shouted at the same time. 

Wow, they finally agreed on something for once. 

“You guys are not five years old,” the guide looked more annoyed than satisfied when they had proven his point correct. His expression was sarcastic, but it was clear he wanted to get on with the task at hand. 

Mark leaned back in his seat. “I don’t know, man, I am just doing my job.” 

“Hopefully, the ideal solution to this is that you all come out of this a little bit wiser,” Vergilius did not acknowledge Mark’s remark and continued on with the brief, sighing to himself. 

“Vergi, Vergi, buddy, can I call you Vergi?” 

“No.” 

“Okay, uhm… What can I call you then? Mr. Red Gaze, Vergilius, old man?” 

“Vergilius will suffice.” 

“Alright Vergilius… what if they are uncooperative, huh? Are we permitted to use force?” 

Who are these people we are trying to negotiate with anyway? Jekyll thought. Surely they aren’t some strong force that we have to take the bough by force… the threat alone should be enough considering the enemies we faced. 

Boy glanced at Mark, answering his question. “I say we cross that bridge when we get to it.” 

“We should still leave that discretion to the decision of the executive manager,” Lenore cut in before Mark could start yapping again. 

“That is correct, Lenore. It is good to see someone not so ready to devolve into baseless violence.” The guide nodded slowly in her direction. 

“It’s not baseless violence!” Mark argued. “It has a basis; that being they are uncooperative!” 

“We haven’t even met them yet!” Boy pointed out with a tinge of anxiety in his voice. 

“It never hurts to prepare in advance.” 

“Who is this that we are trying to convince?” Jekyll piped her voice up above the rest, hoping to get the brief back on topic. I want information that’s actually useful here, not this pointless bickering. 

Vergilius hesitated for a moment, glancing outside as if he was recalling… no, reliving some memories. He clasped his hands together before crossing his arms and speaking softly. “We will be meeting with one of the former LCB-2 members… Sinner Ornella Alwera.” 

Huh, he didn’t call them by their sinner number, that’s odd. 

Who cares? Hyde shrugged. 

Well, it means she probably either did something really good or really bad to earn that kind of respect from the guy… 

My question still stands. 

“Oh, one of the incompetent people?” Mark snickered. 

Dante looked hurt by the comment. “Mark!” 

“Oh gosh,” Lenore rolled her eyes and facepalmed. 

“Am I wrong? The LCB-2 failed, that’s why we exist!” He defended. 

Jatayu shrank down in his seat, not wanting to be seen after the harsh comments were thrown about his former crewmates. 

Mark’s gaze softened ever so slightly as he observed the veteran. “Uh, no offense Jatayu, it happened.” 

“They can’t be total failures, Jatayu is here,” Mallo added. 

“Jatayu performed well working with us, but from what we heard, he didn’t do that well working with the others. Maybe it’s just us helping Jatayu?” 

Boy cursed out loud at the remark. 

“It’s a give or take thing, depending on the coworkers.” Mallo shrugged, glancing back at the guide as if she too wanted to get on with the brief. 

“Did the other guys not help each other at all?” Mark asked anyone who wished to answer. 

“It-It’s not that t-they weren’t working together…” Dante began, scratching his hands nervously. “They could… uhm… It was just a lot of backstabbing and holding me hostage and… other things.” 

“Ah, so what Mallo did to you with the spear.” 

“I-I-I didn’t do anything, Mark,” Mallo snapped, glaring. “Shut up!” 

“Dante, you wanna replay that memory?” 

“Can we get on with this?” Jekyll narrowed her visible eye, growing annoyed by the second. 

“I agree with Jekyll,” Mallo added. 

I didn’t ask for your agreement. “Come on, guys, I don’t want to sit here and listen to you all whine and argue all day.” 

“Let’s move on, because I don’t want to sit on the bus all day,” Mallo continued to add commentary, much to Jekyll’s disapproval. 

“If you want your questions answered, you can ask the LCB-2 person,” Alex raised his head and spoke for the first time that day. It seemed he was done keeping to himself. 

“Quiet,” Vergilius almost growled as his eyes grew red, signifying his ever-dwindling patience. “It will be nice to get rid of you all for an evening. We should continue with the debriefing.” He inhaled a sharp breath and sighed to himself. “Ms. Alwera has offered to give us a golden bough. This is something you all should realize we are highly in need of.” He glanced outside toward the flickering lights of the abandoned city. “In return, however, she has requested a conference of sorts with the new LCB team.” He glanced back toward the group regrettably. “That would be you all.” 

Mallo glanced at Mark as if she wanted to say something, but she instead turned her head toward the guide. “Why?” 

“The explanations provided were vague and scarce to me. Ms. Faust?” 

Faust would get up from her seat between Mallo, Alex, and Jatayu before addressing the company. “The purpose of this is likely to… get in touch, rebuild bridges and… put away former grudges that Ms. Ornella Alwera held against Limbus Company, amongst other personal reasons.” 

“I think I heard that wrong.” Mark wasn’t the only one who was looking at Faust as if she had gone crazy, but he was the first to speak about it. “Can you repeat that again, Faust?” When Faust simply repeated what she said in question form, the prisoner continued. “So, you’re telling me, the person who failed at her job wants to put away grudges and build bridges at something she failed at.” 

“Well,” Dante grew more nervous by the second, his flames sparking more frequently than usual. “Ornella was one of the sinners I had wronged personally from the LCB-2…” he rubbed his head as if trying to calm himself down from the memories.

Dante? Wrong somebody? That’s a first. Jekyll side-eyed Dante and didn’t hide her disdain. 

Mark looked perplexed. “What the hell did you do, Dante?” 

“I didn’t mean to… but there was a situation involving one of the employees where I had to betray Ornella’s trust to calm the situation down…” 

“Are you saying Ornella was going against the group, and to ensure the group didn’t fall apart, you did what you did, and now she blames you for making a good decision?” 

“No… Ornella… was trying to protect the group.” Dante glanced at the bus floor. “But to prevent a distortion from happening… I had to slightly throw her under the bus to keep the situation from escalating.” 

The party paused for a moment, pondering what the manager had informed them about, as vague as it was. The prisoner turned toward the guide and spoke to break the silence. “Vergilius, before we head out, can we get Dante’s story real quick? We should get the whole picture before we step into something and screw everything up.” 

To the doctor’s surprise, Mallo agreed with him. “Yeah, it might be a good idea to not immediately anger the person we are trying to negotiate with.” 

Vergilius could not hide his impatience any longer. “I don’t see why not, it’s not like we got all day,” his sharp glare turned toward the manager, as if telling him to make it quick.

“Okay, wait a moment, Dante,” Mark rushed into the back of the bus before returning shortly with a bucket of popcorn. 

Boy looked curiously at the food. “Where’d you get that?” 

“I have crap in my room, okay, Boy?” 

Alex slowly reached over to eat some of the popcorn himself. 

“Let me try to understand this,” Lenore interrupted the commotion. “If you can read our memories, can you show us yours? It might be faster than telling what happened.” 

“If I can, I haven’t figured out how.” Dante replied with a shrug. “The most I can tell you is that I am being honest.” 

There was a quiet hush over the bus as everyone slowly leaned in to listen to the manager tell the story, save for Vergilius and Charon who stared at the stars and listened to the wind brushing against the vehicle. The party waited anxiously to hear a tale older than their arrival, and one the veteran recalled quiet well.

Dante sighed, sitting down as his clock faced the floor. “A previous employee, Carcosa, sinner no. 16, was about to undergo a mental breakdown of sorts, likely a distortion. They were kind of already an entity of itself and not human, it is really fuzzy territory… Ms. Faust would know more about it but as far as things are concerned, Carcosa held me at weapon-point with a blade to my neck…” 

It was easy to catch the glance Mark gave Mallo at the moment. 

“It was Ornella, Ithas, and Salki who came to my rescue. Jatayu was killed as Carcosa held me hostage, and Ithas was knocked out, but he eventually got back up after I rewound him and assisted in restraining Carcosa.” 

“This Ithas guy definitely sounds incompetent; getting knocked out while protecting the manager? Not really competent.” 

Jekyll rubbed her face. Shut up, Mark. No one appreciates your commentary. 

“In order to prevent Carcosa from having a full-on mental breakdown, Salki assisted in comforting her, but in order to let me go, I had to say a few secrets that Ornella entrusted to me… Secrets that would not put her in a good light toward Carcosa. I betrayed her trust in doing so.” He paused, heaving a sigh. “It ended up with me being spared and Carcosa calming down… but not without a cost, I guess.” 

Mark, still, wasn’t satisfied. “So are you going to say what the secrets were? Come on, Dante. Don’t leave us hanging.” 

The manager snapped his head up to face the prisoner. “I am not going to make that same mistake again.” He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back with a firm nod as if that was a hill he would die on. 

“So you want us to walk in blind and negotiate with someone that knows the full story and left—” 

“Mark,” Lenore interjected quickly. “I think all that matters is we know the important context of what Dante did to upset her even if we don’t know the exact details of the events. How do those specifics matter in this case?” 

“Maybe things would make more sense if he gave them to us, because right now it feels like Dante made the right decision and this sinner or whatever is being upset over a bunch of nonsense.” 

Lenore stammered before turning toward the veteran. “Jatayu, you were there, what were your thoughts on this? Do you think Ornella being upset over this is justified?” 

“I was not there when it took place. All I did was find Ornella after she left the room to comfort them.” He replied shortly, not making eye contact. “I don’t exactly know what was said.” 

“The bottom line is Dante has never been dishonest with us,” Lenore turned away from Jatayu and faced Mark and Dante again. “I think we can trust him in this case.” 

“Ehh, maybe, I don’t trust clockhead over here, no offense,” Mark rolled his eyes and slumped in his seat. 

Dante opened his mouth to defend himself, but clamped it shut and nodded along.

“Well now that we know, I assume that’s everything?” Mallo was already standing by the door, tapping her foot impatiently. 

“I still have a question,” Lenore scooted forward in her seat. “Do we know how Ornella got a golden bough? It might come into play when asking her to give it up.” 

“Such information has not been disclosed,” Faust answered. “However, the LCCB detected a strong resonance of one here. It can be hypothesised that shortly after Ornella’s departure from Limbus Company she managed to obtain one. Or, perhaps, she already did have one.” 

“Wouldn’t that be a breach of contract if she did have access to one and did not hand it over?” 

Not if they didn’t find out, Hyde recalled as much of the clauses as she could in the contract. It’s only if they knew and then you refused to hand it over. It’s not a crime if they never find out. 

Mallo almost spoke her thoughts. “If I remember correctly there wasn’t any sort of clause of already owning one.” 

“Right, I remember too,” Lenore pondered the memory with her hand on her chin. “I’m very surprised that is the case. You think the company would think of that but eh, oh well.” 

“Maybe it is under their possession. They didn’t get it under the company, therefore it’s theirs.” 

“I mean, yes, but doesn’t the company want all of the golden boughs?”

“This is correct,” Faust nodded approvingly to Lenore.

“Why do you want the golden boughs anyway?” Mallo asked. “We are the ones getting them, I feel like this is very important information to know.” 

“Nah, it’s grunt work. We are just collecting crap, and they take it, because we are the grunts,” Mark offered his input. 

“The attestation of the golden boughs would align to assist Limbus Company’s goals and your own heart’s desires.” corrected Faust. 

“I don’t need a golden bough to get what I want, I can do it by myself,” Mallo scoffed. 

“Then why are you here?” Lenore inquired.

“Take a guess.” 

“It’s surely not for the salary.” 

“Did they offer you a good deal?” Boy asked. 

“What other place would hire a previous wing employee?” Mallo crossed her arms and leaned on the window behind her. 

Jekyll rubbed her head, resting it in her lap. This is why we never get anything done. Management under Sir Danves Carew was more efficient than this. 

There was more senseless arguing before Mark decided to budge in with an insult as always, causing more ruckus in the bus and delaying the briefing further. Jekyll glanced up at the crowd before slumping into her seat and turning her gaze in the direction of Jatayu, who was watching the fight with agony, and Kuvira… who’s glow seemed to dim, her eyes downcast and locked on the outside landscape. 

…Is she from here or something? 

The conversation went onto Faust’s knowledge and how far it encompasses, mainly led by Mark, but Jekyll only had half of an ear paying attention as she looked outside the window herself toward the stars. 

You can surely see a lot more of them here than from the city. 

 Quite inspiring, isn’t it? 

If you want to take it that way, Hyde, then sure. 

I believe our students would create many glorious things if we gave them the chance to see a sky like this. 

Perhaps one of the fingers has nearby jurisdiction and we can ask them for an escort. 

I like your thinking. 

…Thanks, I guess. 

Jekyll and Hyde only stopped their creative brainstorming when Vergilius’ voice cut through the commotion like a hot knife on butter. “This has been idiotic. That is all the information you needed. It will be good for me to rest while you are out on the mission.” 

Jekyll will never forget the grin that slowly grew on Faust’s face. “Sir Vergilius?” 

“Faust?” 

“You are slightly mistaken. You will be accompanying the sinners on this journey.” 

Jekyll sat up from her seat, baffled. “What?” 

Mallo turned slowly to face the group as Mark started to shout. “Ey! Old man is joining us!” 

“The Red Gaze is accompanying us to a… diplomatic meeting?” Lenore tilted her head confusingly. Isn’t that like showing up with a loaded gun?” 

“Maybe she has her own loaded gun,” Mark proposed.

“Surely not,” Mallo glanced at Faust. “Does Ornella have some history with Vergilius or something?” 

“Vergilius was around during the LCB-2 journey, it is highly likely that Ms. Ornella wishes to see him too.” Faust closed her eyes and sat back down.

Mark smirked. “Does she have a crush on Vergilius or something?”

Mallo audibly laughed at the comment. “Okay, that’s a good one Mark, alright.” It was difficult to decipher whether or not she was being sarcastic. 

Lenore shrugged. “She could just be a fan.” 

Jekyll side-eyed Kuvira when she slowly rose from her seat and strolled over to the group, standing behind Alex and next to Jatayu. “Faust, does this mean I can also come? I mean, come on, I am Mr. Red Gaze’s assistant, so I gotta go where he goes because you know that’s kind of my job description haha… and if Charon is going too, well, I think it would be best that there would be some extra protection for her as well, assuming we are all invited by our old friend and—” 

“Indeed,” Faust replied to cut her off before she rambled. “Ms. Kuvira and Ms. Charon will be allowed to accompany the group on this journey.” 

“Will we be leaving the bus completely unguarded?” Lenore inquired.

“No, Faust will stay behind to ensure the repairs on the bus are meeting expectations.” 

“I’m somewhat surprised; aren’t you the most knowledgeable for terms of negotiation?” 

Mark chimed in yet again. “Maybe she can’t?” 

Faust smiled at him.

Her smile got to his ego. “See? I’m right. Maybe it’s a contract obligation on why she can’t, and it’s up to us to—” 

“Are we going to sit here and let this kid yap, or are we going to get on with it?” Jekyll stood up from her seat, stretching her back. Her tone was sharper than usual, and she almost covered her mouth afterward but refrained. 

Huh, taking after my tongue I see.

Shut up. 

Mark furrowed his eyebrows and turned toward the doctor. “Hyde?” 

“To be fair, we were discussing important details of the mission,” Lenore argued. “And don’t upset Jekyll like that.” 

Not important enough to the negotiation at hand. 

“Isn’t Jekyll usually more meek, though? That was rather harsh coming from her.” Mark bit back. “It doesn’t sound like Jekyll.” 

“Congrats, Jekyll, you’re getting a spine,” Dante tried to compliment her, but it only pissed her off more. 

Jekyll took a deep breath, trying to calm her tone and block out Hyde’s overbearing presence in her mind as she calmly replied whilst rubbing her face. “We’ve been in this bus for… I don’t even know how long I’ve lost count of the time. I would like to get some fresh air.” 

Vergilius looked as annoyed as she did. “It’s been five minutes, and I already agree.” 

“Exactly.” Guess this Red Gaze guy isn’t so bad after all. 

“I’ve been waiting at the door this entire time,” Mallo added. “I am ready to go.” 

There was some more unimportant chatter before Charon opened the bus door to let everyone out. The hiss of hydraulics marked the slow, deliberate opening of the bus doors. A rush of cold wind wasted no time, slipping past the threshold and clawing at exposed skin, tugging at coats and hair alike. The stale warmth of the bus was immediately replaced with the sharp bite of open air.

Jekyll inhaled deeply. The crispness of it cut through the fatigue that had settled in her bones, awakening her senses like a slap to the face. The scent of damp earth and distant pine mixed with the lingering traces of exhaust. Despite the chill, it was refreshing—cleansing, even.

Faust and Mark were the only ones who did not exit the bus immediately. Jekyll rubbed her arms together slowly, exhaling a shaky breath. “It’s really cold out here.” 

The vast expanse stretched endlessly above them, a sea of shimmering stars unburdened by city lights. They burned brilliant and cold, their silent vigil untouched by the dangers lurking beneath.

Jekyll barely remembered to breathe. She had seen stars before, of course—but not like this. Not with this clarity, this raw, breathtaking magnitude. It was as though the universe had opened itself to her for the first time, laying bare its infinite wonders.

Mallo, standing beside her, hugged her arms against the chill but didn’t look away. “Strangely beautiful,” she murmured again, softer this time. “I’ve never been to the outskirts before.”

Jekyll tore her gaze away to glance at her companion. The awe in Mallo’s face mirrored her own. For a fleeting moment, the worries and monsters that loomed ahead faded into the background.

Then, the wind shifted. A rustling in the underbrush—too deliberate, too close.

The stars remained indifferent.

“Hey Dante?” Mallo turned toward the manager, her voice cutting through Jekyll’s thoughts. “Have you been to the outskirts before?” 

“Multiple times, yes.” There was a pause as his clock ticked slowly. “Why do you ask?” 

“What do you think of the stars?” 

Dante took a moment to reach his hand out toward the vast sky. “I’m still trying to reach towards mine, but… I think we are almost there.”

There were a couple of murmurs before the manager continued. “I see it every time I rewind for you guys…” He glanced ahead as if he was dozing off before clapping his hands together. “That said, we should probably get a move on! Kuvira has already walked ahead of us.”

Jekyll turned her attention to the guide’s assistant as she wandered down the path ahead. Her usual vibrance had dulled, her footsteps slow, measured. The ruins surrounded her like specters of a past long forgotten—or perhaps a past she had tried to forget. There was something different about the way she moved here, as if each crumbling archway, each shattered pillar, held whispers only she could hear.

The wind wove through the desolate remnants, curling around Kuvira’s form as though greeting an old acquaintance. Her gaze lingered on a broken monument at the heart of the wreckage, eyes tracing the faded engravings with a familiarity that did not belong to a mere visitor. The way her fingers twitched, the slight press of her lips—it was not longing, not nostalgia, but something heavier.

Jekyll didn’t speak. Neither did anyone else. Those who stared at her felt it—the shift, the unspoken weight pressing against Kuvira’s shoulders. Whatever history she had with this place, it wasn’t theirs to intrude upon.

She inhaled sharply, straightening her posture before stepping forward, leaving behind whatever ghosts clung to her.

The ruins remained silent, but the wind whispered as if it knew better, as if they knew who she was to this place. 

Boy sat hunched over his notebook, writing in tight, slanted lines. He was documenting how it felt to use an identity in the mirror dungeon—his handwriting jittery, like the memory was still vibrating through him. His lips moved silently as he wrote, mouthing fragments of thought he didn’t want to forget.

Mallo was doing exactly what she’d done last time: arm slung over the back of her seat, cigarette smoldering between her fingers, eyes half-lidded as she stared out the window. Her gaze was unfocused, drifting somewhere between boredom and reflection.

Kuvira bounced gently in her seat, humming a tune under her breath. It was soft, almost melodic, but just off enough to sound like something she’d made up herself. Her boots tapped against the floor in rhythm, a quiet percussion to her song. Her previous mood in the outskirts had faded away as if it never happened, and she was back to her composed self. 

Alex yawned, stretching his arms before folding the P Corp pamphlet and sliding it into his coat. He stared at Mark for a long moment, watching the man snore like he was trying to decide whether to wake him or let him suffer. He chose silence.

Jatayu sat near the back, angled slightly toward Boy. His eyes weren’t on his own notebook—they were watching Boy write, observing the way his hand moved, the way his shoulders tensed. He didn’t say anything. Just watched. Watching people was easier than talking.

Dante was scribbling in his own journal, his flame flickering low and steady. He was writing about Jatayu’s decision to call P Corp—wondering if it had been the right move, if it would help the outskirts or just complicate things further. His handwriting was neat, but hesitant.

Then Vergilius whistled—sharp, clean, cutting through the quiet like a blade.

Heads turned toward him, still like the stars. Mark didn’t; he continued snoring, which was not professional and bothered those nearby, especially the Red Gaze, who demanded everyone’s attention for the assumed briefing.

Dante glanced at the sleeping man, then turned to Mallo. “Mallo, can you help wake Mark up?”

Mallo groaned, flicked her cigarette into a cup, and stood with a stretch. She walked over, boots thudding softly against the metal floor. Her long black hair flowed like water behind her as she bent over swiftly in front of Mark’s face. She lifted her arms and clapped her hands—loudly. “Oi, wake up!”

Mark stirred, blinking rapidly. He jolted like he was shocked before his movements shifted to the softness of melted butter. “Ngh… are we already here?”

Mallo gestured toward the window. “Look outside, idiot. We are here.”

Mark squinted, then nodded slowly. “Okay, I should be fine now, yeah. Thanks for waking me up.”

Mallo blinked. “You’re… welcome?” She turned to Dante with a confused expression—why-the-hell-did-he-thank-me written all over her face. 

Dante shrugged and gave her a thumbs-up, to which Mallo rolled her eyes and walked back to her seat, sitting down with little grace.

Boy suddenly stood, notebook clutched in his hands. He looked at Vergilius, eyes wide, panic flickering across his face. Then, just as quickly, he sat back down, clutching the notebook tighter.

Jekyll eyed him carefully. What the hell is wrong with him? She cast a judgmental side-eye toward his figure, to which he did not notice. 

The bus remained quiet, with the city waiting outside. No one moved yet. The moment hung in the air, suspended between arrival and whatever came next. Everyone glanced toward the person who originally captured their attention with one sound. He was still waiting for the prisoner to compose himself. 

Mark stirred from his half-sleep, voice groggy but curious. He rubbed his eyes and slouched in his seat. “Is the briefing done?”

Mallo didn’t even turn around. “No, we’re starting the briefing.”

The prisoner rolled his eyes and slouched even more, putting his arm over his face to block out the light. “Wake me up after it, then.”

“No! This is important!” Her tone was sharp, unusually firm. She wasn’t in the mood for his usual deflection. She whipped her head around to face him, giving him a glare he did not care to see. 

Vergilius, standing near the front with his arms folded, gave a dry nod. “You are, once in your life, correct, Mallo.”

Mark blinked suddenly, more alert. He sat upright and leaned forward, clasping his hands together in front of him just above his knees. That was rare praise toward his rival.

Vergilius cleared his throat, voice cutting through the low hum of the bus’s idle engine. “You might be well aware—if you read the pamphlets Dante so kindly handed out—that we are now in the backstreets of P Corp. It must be made clear: this is not a safe area. Be vigilant. Look out for any dangers that might befall you.”

The group shifted slightly, the mood tightening.

Mallo raised an eyebrow, arms crossed. Apparently, she was in disbelief. “How dangerous can the backstreets be? We fought an ALEPH abnormality. There's no use in worrying about some grunts.”

Vergilius did not flinch. He gently turned his head to face her. “The difference between a predictable foe and an unknown force is prominent. Regardless, your mission is simple, thankfully. I imagine none of you can screw this up.”

He gestured toward the window. “The LCCB has located the Lobotomy Corporation Facility here. You will navigate through the sector and reach the designated point. The bus cannot proceed further. This is where you disembark. Do not get lost. Do not separate the group too much.” His eyes flicked to Dante, pointed. It was the kind of gaze that carried consequence with it.

Mallo tilted her head. “Was that it?” Her voice was flat, unimpressed. Everyone in the group, excluding Mark, appeared to be let down by the unclear details presented in the briefing. 

Vergilius gave a faint shrug. “Were you expecting more? Preface: This is a simple mission.”

“Okay,” she muttered, already moving toward the door with a grunt and a slouched posture.

“Truly, it cannot be that difficult to stay in the group,” Vergilius added, almost to himself. He watched Mallo exit the bus carefully after Charon opened the door. His arms were crossed before he glanced back at the rest of the company. 

Mark stretched, cracking his neck. “Old man, you’re jinxing us. You do not need to do it again.”

The guide was not amused by the prisoner’s tone. “I’m stressing this. If you break formation, it’s your fault.”

“You jinxed us. We’re going to screw this up,” Mark said, half-serious, half-amused.

“It’s not that hard, and that’s not how life works. We can stick together in a group just fine,” Mallo replied from outside. 

“I don’t wanna hear that from you,” Mark shot back.

Mallo spun around. “Wha—get out of here! The meeting's over. Get out!”

Mark stood grinning, about to leave the bus as well. “Ladies first.”

Alex, still seated, gave Mallo a look—dry, unreadable, but unmistakably supportive. If you kill him, I won’t tell a soul.

Mallo sighed, long and theatrical, and stepped out of the way of the exit.

“This is gonna be a fun one,” Dante muttered, voice low and sardonic as he adjusted the fabric on his coat. The clockhead ticked faintly, like it agreed.

Mark stretched with a groan, spine cracking audibly. “Welp. Just a standard old procedure. Get in, kill anyone that gets in our way, and get out.” His tone was casual, almost bored—like he was reciting a grocery list. His recent activities were just fighting in the mirror dungeon and sleeping, and it was evident.

He and Boy stepped off the bus together, boots hitting the pavement with a dull thud. The backstreets of P Corp greeted them with a wall of buildings—tight, grimy, stacked like forgotten files in a bureaucratic nightmare. The air smelled faintly of rust and old oil.

Vergilius didn’t move from his spot near the door. “Dante,” he said, his voice clipped. “I need you to make sure they steal nothing illegal. We cannot afford another lawsuit. We already had one artist steal from us.”

His choice of wording struck a chord with one of the sinners. Jekyll looked up from her sketchpad, blinking. “Huh?”

Does he mean the lunacy we used to get that ID? Please, there was plenty of it just sitting there; I hardly call that stealing, Hyde argued. 

Vergilius ignored her and walked over to Lenore, who was still standing sentinel. “Before you go, I need your assistance documenting our last adventure.” His tone was businesslike, but there was a flicker of weariness in his eyes. Lenore nodded, and the two disappeared toward the back of the bus.

Kuvira glanced around, eyes wide with curiosity. She set a hand on Jatayu’s shoulder, smiling widely at him as he turned around. “Hey, good luck. You got this,” she said brightly, offering a thumbs-up to no one in particular.

Jekyll stood reluctantly, brushing graphite dust off her coat. She followed Alex outside, nearly tripping on the last step. She caught herself before anyone outside could notice, but Hyde laughed in her head, a sharp, amused bark that echoed off the mind.

The group gathered on the cracked sidewalk, the city pressing in around them. The buildings were close enough to touch, their walls stained with age and secrets. It seemed… relatively clean, and safe for the moment. There was an odd sense of awe about it.

“Home…” Jatayu murmured, voice barely audible. His gaze lingered on the alleyways as if they held memories. He stepped off the bus with precision, thinking deeply when he finally set foot back on the soil he had probably vowed never to return to until his mission was complete. Or at least, that is what Jekyll assumed. 

Mallo circled the bus slowly, boots scraping against the pavement. Her eyes scanned the surroundings with a mix of recognition and calculation. “Ah… I know this. I’ve been here before. I know where the Lobotomy Corporation facility is.”

Dante turned toward her, getting off the bus last after Vergilius muttered a few private words to him. He swayed back and forth on the soles of his feet, his flames gently licking the air. “You do?”

“Yes? I used to work there,” she said, voice just a little too casual, as if she thought the comment could just be brushed off like it was not anything important. 

“At this specific one?” Dante pressed.

“Well, I guess so, if this is exactly what I know it is, I did.” Her tone was breezy, but her eyes did not quite meet his. She was lying through her teeth. Mallo knew the area, but not because she had worked there. Not officially.

Why do you really recognize this place, then? Jekyll and Hyde asked at the same time. 

Mark’s gears turned. “You’re lying,” he said, half-accusatory, half-intrigued. “Here's my idea, in a way that's easy for you to understand. Does this have anything to do with the Middle?”

Mallo laughed, a short, sharp sound. “Are you serious?”

"Throwing darts at the matter again. I don’t know, but they have been searching for you on the outskirts, and this is a place familiar to you, and because I've heard your lies far too often. We did share thoughts in that abnorm—”

“You’re not right about the Faust thing,” Mallo cut in. “And you’re not right about this.”

Mark hesitated, then looked at Dante. “Am I allowed to say that?”

Dante turned his clockhead toward him, ticking softly. It was clear the manager deemed the topic irrelevant, but he entertained it anyway. “I don’t think it’s kind to let info about others go behind their backs.”

Mark shrugged. “I was right. Can’t say anymore.”

“Whatever,” Mallo said, brushing past him and strolling slightly ahead, observing the various alleyways between the buildings. “I know this area. I know where the branch is.”

Boy stepped forward after her. “Lead the way, then?”

“I’ll keep an eye on our backs,” Mark said, falling into second position. The only backs he would watch in that position were Mallo’s, which was intriguing to those who noticed his words versus his actions. 

“I’ll watch backs too,” Boy added, falling in place behind Mark. “I work better at a distance, anyway.”

Jekyll took her place in the middle of the line, sighing to herself. Her boots scuffed the pavement with each step, like she was already tired of whatever came next. Can we just get on with the mission this time? 

Mallo saw that everyone was filling a line before her, and a sense of pride overcame her. She straightened her back and kept a smug grin plastered on her face. “Of course I’ll bring you to it,” Mallo said, voice louder now. “I know where it is. I’ll bring you guys to it.”

Dante exhaled slowly, rubbing his fingers on his face. “Oh boy.”

The group moved, their shadows stretching long behind them as they stepped deeper into the maze of P Corp’s forgotten veins. The city did not welcome them—it tolerated them. 

The backstreets of P Corp stretched out before them like a maze carved from concrete and rust. Buildings loomed on either side, stacked close and crooked, their facades a patchwork of peeling paint, flickering neon signage, and half-shuttered windows. The air was thick—humid, metallic, and tinged with something acrid that clung to the back of the throat. Somewhere overhead, a power line buzzed faintly, like a warning.

Jekyll stepped slowly, her boots crunching against broken glass and gravel. The ground felt uneven, like the city itself had grown tired of holding its shape. She glanced around, cataloging the group’s positions instinctively. Mallo had already started walking north, her stride confident, almost too confident. Everyone else followed without question, pulled along by inertia or habit.

Jekyll lingered a moment longer, her senses prickling. She watched most of the party stroll past her as her ears perked. The doctor had always trusted her gut when something was off about a place - she had always known those kinds of things from a very young age, as if she was forced to learn. She listened closely, drowning out the party and diverting her attention down the other alleyways. There was music—faint, synthetic, pulsing like a heartbeat through the alley walls east of them. It sounded like an electronic tune; not loud enough to be coming from any speaker nearby, but not imagined either. She tilted her head, trying to locate the source.

“Yeah?” Boy said in reply to something the party said up ahead, his voice casual, but his eyes were scanning the shadows.

Hyde snorted in her head, a sharp mental jab. She recognized the type of music immediately. Of course, they followed us here from the outskirts. The Middle never knows when to quit.

It felt like Jekyll’s vision narrowed on the east alleyway, becoming more alert at the realization. Her hands turned cold. They are here? Jekyll did not respond aloud, but it was the only thought she mustered as her eyes shifted to the manager. 

The manager had stopped abruptly, his body stiff as a statue. His gaze was locked on a narrow alley to their right, eyes wide, breath shallow. Fear radiated off him in waves—not the kind that made him scream, but the kind that made him freeze. He began to drift toward the alley, slow and deliberate, as if something was pulling him.

Jekyll’s heart kicked up. If it was indeed who she and Hyde assumed to be, Dante should be going nowhere near them. She broke into a jog, closing the distance between her and Dante, grabbing his arm firmly. “Manager,” she said, voice low but urgent. “Mallo is leading us that way. Let’s not wander off.”

Dante blinked, as if surfacing from a trance. Boy had stopped too, stepping closer to Jekyll and Dante with concern etched across his face.

Mark said something ahead of them—probably a joke, probably dismissive—but Jekyll didn’t register it. Her focus was on Dante, whose posture had softened into sheepishness.

“Ah, sorry,” he murmured. “I just wanted to confirm something.”

Jekyll offered a small smile, trying to ease the tension. She glanced down the alleyway cautiously. “The music is groovy, but let’s stay on task.”

She felt Hyde stir again, amused. Groovy? You’re slipping, darling.

The group moved north again, feet echoing against the narrow corridor of the street. The music pulsed faintly, like it was coming from underground. Jekyll’s skin prickled. She did not trust it. She knew she couldn’t trust it.

The alley was narrow, hemmed in by buildings that leaned as if they were eavesdropping. Rusted pipes ran like veins along the walls, dripping something foul-smelling into puddles that shimmered with oil. Neon signage flickered overhead—half-lit kanji, broken logos, a looping ad for a nightclub that probably hadn’t existed in years. The air was thick with humidity and static, and somewhere beneath it all, the music pulsed again.

“Is that EDM?” Mark asked, squinting toward a flickering sign that might’ve once advertised a nightclub as he stopped in his tracks. Perhaps he felt the vibrations of the music through the shaking gravel.

“What’s that?” Mallo replied, not slowing down.

Mark grinned. “Grandma, it’s electronic dance music.” He turned to Jekyll. “Jekyll, Hyde—don’t you know the Hawaiian shirts paired with it?”

Jekyll raised an eyebrow, not amused with his everyday assumptions that were borderline insulting. “Hyde is familiar with them, yes.”

Familiar? Hyde cackled. We go WAY back. Those familial bastards are so set on revenge they drove themselves to death when they crossed my maestro’s territory. 

Mark chuckled, then frowned slightly. “I wonder why they’re here.”

“There is no music,” Mallo said flatly, clearly unable to hear or feel it. Her gaze hardened, looking at the rest of the party like they had lost their minds. “Let’s go.”

“Grandma, don’t worry about that,” Mark teased again, waving his hand dismissively. It was as if he was using the new nickname to get under her skin purposely.

Boy’s voice cut through, quieter but firm. “Let’s go. I don’t wanna deal with the Middle anyway.” 

Mallo stopped mid-step, clearly hearing that. She slowly turned her head to the experiment. “What did you say?”

“The Middle?” Boy repeated, eyes narrowing. 

Jekyll felt the tension spike. Her gaze flicked to each member of the group—Mark’s casual bravado, Boy’s guarded stance, Dante’s lingering unease, Mallo’s sudden alertness. The air felt heavier now, like the city was listening.

Oh, things are about to get interesting~ Hyde smirked. 

The doctor glanced up at the buildings again. They weren’t just looming—they were watching. And somewhere connected to the concrete, the music kept playing. Someone was aware of the group's presence and wanted to make it known that they were there and knew the group was also present. 

“I wanna take a detour and check something real quick,” Mallo said, already veering off course. She turned around and immediately headed down the east alleyway.

“Wait,” Boy called after her, voice tight. “Will this end in violence?”

“Yes!” Mallo replied, almost cheerfully. The notion made her storm off quicker.

Mark reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder and stopping her from going further. “Come on, Mallo. No time for detours.”

She slapped his hand away with a sharp crack. “Don’t touch me. I just wanna talk to them. I just want to see.” Her eyes flicked to Dante. “Dante, let me—”

Dante stepped forward, urgency bleeding into his voice. “Wait, Mallo, please. If this music is the music I know, this is a horrible choice.”

Mallo waved him off. “It’s nothing we can’t handle. You can revive us.”

Mark scoffed, withdrawing his arm and rubbing it with his other hand. “Last time you saw them, you ran away.”

“Shut up,” Mallo snapped, already peeking down the alleyway again. She tried to take off again.

Jekyll’s breath caught. She didn’t think—she just moved. Her boots splashed through a puddle as she chased after Mallo, grabbing her arm. “This isn’t a good idea. We have a job to do, and we’re not supposed to be splitting up.”

Boy followed closely behind Jekyll, quick and quiet. “We shouldn’t mess with the Middle,” he said, “but we need Mallo to go where we need to go.”

Mallo twisted out of Jekyll’s grip, almost shoving her away as she tried to peer into the dark. “I can’t see crap,” she muttered, stepping deeper into the alley.

Jekyll squinted, heart thudding. There—just beyond the flickering light—was a figure. Tall. Still. Watching. “I see someone,” she said, voice low. “But I don’t know who it is.”

Definitely someone we don’t want to see right now, Hyde rolled her eyes. But, alas, trouble always seems to find us in this company. 

Boy’s voice was a whisper now. “Can you see? Is this a good idea?” He looked at Mallo first, and when she didn’t reply immediately, his gaze turned to Jekyll. 

“Dante will revive me,” Mallo said, like that settled it. No one else tried to stop her again as she stepped into the alleyway and disappeared from sight. 

Hyde stirred in Jekyll’s mind, sharp and bitter. Idiot’s gonna get herself killed. The Middle’s a family—a tight-knit, blunt, outdated tattoo tech Finger. But the chains, too, can be an issue. Don’t they have them augmented? Like Dante. Sort of.

Jekyll’s skin prickled. She didn’t know the answers to the questions, but she knew, regardless, it would mean trouble. She felt it—eyes on her.

“We should get going, alright?” Boy said, stepping away from the east alleyway and toward the north, like he was trying to pull Mallo with some invisible leash. 

Jekyll backed away slowly, her gaze fixed on the alley. Only Boy was still visible near her. The rest of the party had continued north around a corner. Mallo had vanished into the shadows.

“Why the hell are you guys terrified?” Mallo’s voice echoed back, defiant. She talked as if she couldn’t see the person behind her. 

“We’re splitting up,” Boy said, his voice strained. “And we’re being watched. We’ve already messed up our mission.”

Jekyll’s pulse pounded in her ears. The music was louder now, and it was approaching quickly. The figure behind Mallo took steps toward her. Hyde was silent; that was worse.

“We should get going,” Boy said again, eyes locked on something beyond the gate. It appeared he had caught it, too. “Someone’s approaching.”

Jekyll didn’t move. She couldn’t. The alley felt like a mouth, and Mallo had just walked into it. But she couldn’t find it in herself to shout and warn Mallo a second time.

As if a part of her wanted to see what happened. 

A slow clap echoed through the alley, sharp and deliberate, followed by a laugh that didn’t belong to anyone Jekyll trusted. The figure in the dark slowly stepped into the light, making itself known to the three.  “Look who came this way,” the voice said—female, amused, and unmistakably dangerous. 

Jekyll crept forward, her breath shallow, peering around the corner with calculated caution. The alley was still slick with rainwater and neon haze, but now it held something colder. A woman stood in the center of the passage, posture relaxed, eyes gleaming with recognition. She wore a purple shirt, Hawaiian, as Mark had mentioned earlier. Chains were wrapped all around her arms, and tattoos covered every inch of skin that showed. She wore white pants, and a large, chained book dangled from her waist. Her hair was styled back, and she wore shades to hide her shining eyes. A Middle sister.

Mallo laughed, but it was brittle—like glass under pressure. “You know those guys who came back to you with the report? I thought they were joking. That’s funny…” Her voice cracked at the edges. It was the first time Jekyll ever saw Mallo truly afraid. 

Boy narrowed his eyes. “Mallo, are you drunk?”

The woman didn’t answer. She snapped her fingers, and two more figures stepped out from the shadows—young, wiry, and unmistakably lethal. Little brothers. Their movements were fluid, practiced. They didn’t need to posture. They were already dangerous. “You know we’re everywhere,” the woman said, her tone shifting from playful to sharp. “Don’t play stupid. I have a few things to deal with, regarding you.”

Mallo stepped back, stave raised, her stance defensive but defiant. “You don’t scare me. You’re just random nobodies trying to intimidate me. You don’t… We’re not running—we’re fighting.”

Boy’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “We’ve got company!” He raised his gun, one that belonged to the ID that was snapped on him; his hands were steady despite the tremor in his voice. “We’re doing this now.”

The woman’s gaze flicked past Mallo and landed on Jekyll. Her smile widened. “Aha! You brought friends. Really, ha… I guess you never change. You brought friends last time.”

Jekyll stepped out from the corner, brush in hand, her grip firm. “And you thought I was getting us into trouble last time,” she said toward Mallo, her voice cool. Hypocrites. 

“It’s not trouble,” Mallo muttered, barely glancing her direction. “It’s just business with Orange we have to deal with.”

Mark appeared from the other end of the alley, his silhouette framed by the flickering signage. “Sure, call it whatever. Let’s start this already.”

The tension snapped like a wire. Most of the attackers surged toward Mallo, but one peeled off, eyes locked on Jekyll’s brush. She sighed, steadying herself. Aight, we working together like we discussed?

I wouldn’t miss a chance to beat these guys to a pulp for the world, Hyde purred, her voice velvet and venom.

Man, Jekyll thought, Merlin must’ve gotten that order through.

Mark took up a defensive stance, guarding without flair—just solid, dependable presence.

The first clash came fast. Mallo met the first brother head-on, stave cracking against his ribs. He staggered, breath knocked out of him. Jekyll pivoted and struck the second brother across the head with her brush, the impact sending a shockwave of ink and force. He dropped, dazed. It was enough to give them a couple of seconds of ease. 

With meticulous care and precision, the boy fired from afar, his bullets navigating the pandemonium without endangering any of his comrades. Although Jekyll did not know the specific location where the bullet came to rest, he did know that the bullet had, in fact, hit something. 

Following that, the reinforcements arrived on the scene. At Dante's command, Alex and Jatayu arrived, with Alex immediately moving to shield the flank and Jatayu quickly lunging to intercept a blow that was aimed at Mallo. He was unable to protect himself from the impact of the hit. After the strike hit with significant force, he went skidding across the pavement, leaving a smear of blood on the concrete.

“Jatayu, what the hell! I got this!” Mallo shouted, stave spinning.

Jatayu groaned, clutching his side. In an instant, half of his health had vanished, causing him to stagger.

“Be careful!” Boy called out, voice strained.

Then Jekyll saw him—the same Middle member from the outskirts. Not Merlin, but the one that had escaped the group. He was here. Watching. Waiting.

Distracted by Jatayu's injuries, Mallo's concentration faltered, which led to her losing the following clash, and ultimately, she was knocked off balance. Mark intervened, protecting Jatayu from the subsequent attack that was about to come.

Boy intercepted an attack aimed at Alex, winning the clash with a clean shot to the face of the first brother. The bullet tore through flesh, and Boy emptied his ammo with a thumb ID override.

Jekyll turned just in time to meet the little sister’s charge. The weapons of the two combatants met with a resounding clang, yet Jekyll was ultimately defeated in the struggle. Her sanity started to slip. Despite her efforts to raise her guard, the blow connected, causing ten damage and inflicting paralysis. Her body became rigid and her breathing became labored as she struggled to catch her breath. Hyde, she thought, this is your prime time to come out now…

Not yet, Hyde whispered. Let them think you’re weak. Let them lean in close.

Jekyll’s fingers twitched around the brush. The alley, now transformed into a battlefield, was illuminated by the garish glow of neon signs, stained with blood, and filled with the unsettling sounds of music that didn't belong. The sort of experience that caused your very bones to recall details you would rather forget.

The Middle swiftly recalibrated their strategy after Alex’s attack, redirecting their concentrated efforts towards Mallo with ‌surgical level of precision. With her grip firm on the stave, she stood her ground, her gaze fixed on the first brother, who was now struggling to maintain his balance, his breath coming in short gasps and his knees beginning to give way. Mallo, without a moment's hesitation, took action. Each blow she landed on him was more brutal than the last, with the stave cracking against his ribs, shoulder, and jaw as she continued her assault. The brother was thrown off balance and almost fell over.

Mark stepped in without ceremony. His blade slid cleanly through the man’s throat, silencing him mid-gasp. The body dropped, twitching once before going still.

Boy fired again but missed—his shot went wide, and the recoil knocked him off balance. He stumbled, clutching his side, blood blooming across his coat. That was enough.

Jekyll felt it. Hyde stirred. Finally, Hyde whispered. Let me off the leash.

Alex and Jatayu laid into Orange, the second brother. Their strikes were coordinated, but Orange was fast—too fast. Jatayu, in an attempt to protect Boy, leaped forward to stop the incoming attack, however, his estimation of the trajectory was off. After the hit landed with significant force, he was sent skidding across the pavement once more, coughing up blood as a result of the impact.

“Jatayu, what the hell! I got this!” Mallo shouted, stave raised.

With a groan, Jatayu stumbled and nearly fell, his health declining at an alarming rate.

Enough! Jekyll, moving quickly with a brush in hand, struck the middle sister. As the blow connected, her eyes grew wider, revealing a reaction that stemmed not from the immediate sensation of pain, but from a far more significant feeling. Insanity. As her eyes grew larger, a subtle movement could be detected in the corners of her mouth. Jekyll's eyes reflected the creeping insanity, and they slowly widened.

Mallo followed up, attacking the sister unopposed, her stave cracking against her ribs.

Mark intercepted another strike aimed at Alex, his bloodfiend fanghunt ID activating with a vicious gleam. His blade tore through the sister’s defenses, staggering her, leaving her in shambles.

Now, Hyde urged, and Jekyll obeyed. She took a deep breath and succumbed to the back of her mind as her sanity dropped. Hyde took the reins of control immediately, shifting the monocle quickly before attacking. She didn’t run—she prowled. Her grin was feral, her eyes gleaming with delight. She locked onto the middle little sister, who barely had time to react before Hyde’s blade found her throat. The Middle sister was slashed ruthlessly, causing blood to be splattered across the surrounding area. With no sign of life, the girl fell, and Hyde, chuckling to herself, used the back of her hand to remove the blood that was on her cheek.

Boy gave Hyde a side-eye, voice low. His eyes were locked on the horrific scene before him. It could be noted that he had never seen Jekyll turn so violent. “Okay… glad she’s on our side…”

“And they call me a bloodfiend,” Mark muttered, watching Hyde with something between admiration and concern.

Hyde turned toward Orange, her smirk deepening. She approached slowly, deliberately, her eyes locked on his. “You’re next.” She grinned wickedly, turning her weapon slowly toward him.

Orange, overcome with a sudden impulse, trembled as he retreated a step. Fear ultimately won, and his composure was lost as a result. “AAH! Don’t you stand up to the Middle like that!”

Mallo clapped from the back, nodding slowly as if she approved of the situation before her. “Wow, I need intimidation tips from you, Hyde.”

Mark stepped forward, voice cold. “I already killed one of you. You didn’t think I was coming to finish you off? I even took your book.”

Orange’s eyes widened. “You took Carl’s book?!”

“Yeah,” Mark said, blade gleaming. “And your name is in it.”

It was evident that Orange was shaken, as he staggered in response. As his aura began to crack, a fragile state enveloped him, much like a layer of frost settling on a surface.

Alex, in his sweeper ID, walked calmly to the corpses and began liquefying the remains. The hiss of dissolving flesh filled the alley.

“AAH! SWEEPER!” Orange screamed, panic overtaking him. He turned and bolted, feet slipping on the wet pavement.

Hyde didn’t hesitate. She was already moving—faster than anyone expected. Mark caught up first, slashing across Orange’s back and staggering him. Mallo was right behind, stave raised.

But Hyde was the one who finished it. With a swift leap, she brought her blade to bear, and with a flash, she plunged it into his spine. Orange collapsed, gasping, eyes wide as the last thing he saw was Hyde’s face—chaotic, gleeful, and utterly merciless.

After that moment, an encompassing silence descended, and everything went quiet. The alley remained in a state of stillness. The music, which had been playing, had come to a halt. The members in the middle were deceased.

And Hyde stood in the center of it all, smiling. Ah, what glorious art has been made today. She felt a sense of enlightenment and an almost fiery passion within her, as though she had finally completed something essential to her existence. 

Mark wiped his blade clean, flicking blood onto the pavement. “Not the first time you’ve taken something from me,” he muttered, casting Hyde a sideways glance. “Stealing my kill.” He turned and walked off, boots crunching over bones.

Mallo sprinted up, panting. Her eyes locked on the middle member’s corpse. She raised her stave, hesitated, then lowered it with a sigh. “Whatever.”

Boy tilted his head. “Mallo, did you get your bloodlust?”

She shrugged. “It was worth it. They were following us, so… good thing we went here.”

Alex wandered off to the nearest corpse, humming softly as he sawed off the arm with clinical precision. Hyde crouched beside the little sister’s body, vial in hand. She drained the blood carefully, watching the purple tint swirl inside the glass. Her smirk deepened. Ooh, I might have to come after these guys more often. I’ve never seen this color of blood before~

It would… make for a fine paint, Jekyll shuddered as she watched Hyde work.

Mark knelt by Orange’s body, flipping through pockets. “Three books now,” he said, holding one up. “I’m collecting them like trophies.”

“Can I see?” Boy asked.

Mark handed it over. “Just look at the title and section. It’s mostly disrespect and garbage inside. You can write in them, but this one’s empty.” He tapped the cover. "Carl's book is completely empty."

Boy nodded, slipping it into his coat. “I will still use my old journal, but thanks.”

Mallo stretched, cracking her neck. “Oh, gosh… I forgot they fight like hell.”

Mark scoffed. “This is the second fight where they haven’t done crap. I think they’re jokes.”

Boy, noticing blood, pointed at Mark’s arm and stated, "You're bleeding".

“Self bleed,” Mark replied, unfazed.

Jatayu limped over, voice shaky. “I’m glad you all took care of them…”

“You might wanna reset,” Mallo said, eyeing his wounds.

“I’ll manage—” Jatayu began, but Dante appeared behind him and triggered the rewind. The sudden flare of light caused both Jatayu and Mallo to blink, momentarily disoriented, but feeling refreshed as their vision cleared.

“Sorry for the detour,” Mallo said, brushing off her coat. “Had business with them I needed to take care of. Let’s take care of the mission.”

“No harm, no foul,” Boy replied.

Mark spent some time flipping through the book that belonged to the sister. “Lil fancy book from sis. I’m happy.”

Dante's expression shifted negatively as he looked down into the alley. “I’m curious why he ran this way instead of toward the street.”

“Maybe he went into one of the buildings?” Mallo offered.

“You run to your homies,” Mark said.

“Are you implying that more of them are here?” Mallo asked, brow raised.

“We don’t need a war!” Boy insisted.

“Not again,” Dante muttered.

“Again?!” Mallo echoed.

Mark used his fingers to gently tap the spine of the book. “Limbus Company is in the Middle books. We’re still their enemy.”

“We cleared them out. They were following us,” Mallo said. “Let’s deal with them and move on.”

“Now we are safe from…” Boy trailed off.

Jekyll rolled her eyes. None of you are making any sense. Can we not talk this out and form a plan before we go on? If we encounter any higher-ranking members, this could mean a lot of trouble for us. 

Hyde remained silent, shifting her gaze from the party while simultaneously concealing the purple-tinged blood vial within her coat. On that particular occasion, she appeared to be serious, as though she was deeply contemplating something, which was not something that happened very often. 

Mark turned to Dante, eyes gleaming. “Speaking of, how would your blood taste?”

Dante stared, backing up a step.

“Just a little nibble,” Mark teased.

“No, I—” Dante started.

Boy raised his hand. “You can have mine. Don’t think it’d taste good, but—”

Mallo groaned. “Can you guys stop having sexual energy and get on with it?! Get a room.” She smirked and strode ahead, as if her joke was something to be proud of. 

“At least I’m not paired with someone forty years older than me,” Mark muttered.

The grandma seemed to have heard it. “Dante, how old are you?”

Mark snorted. “Dante is old. He’s fine with it.”

“There’s a grandfather clock for a reason,” Mallo quipped.

Mark raised an eyebrow. “If you think about it, Mallo, most people who don’t tell their age are women.”

Mallo stopped. “What are you implying?”

With a sidelong glance, he abruptly stopped talking and closed his mouth. “I made a mistake. I retract the statement,” Mark said quickly.

With an eye roll, Mallo responded with a "yeahhh…" and continued onward with her walk.

As they retraced their steps, the corridor constricted, the walls seeming to encroach upon them, adorned with rust-colored pipes and intermittently lit signs that emitted a buzzing sound reminiscent of insects. The air held a subtle scent of ozone and was noticeably thick with static electricity. The voices, which were quiet, conversational, and nearly nonchalant, resonated from the hall that was situated right next to them.

Slowing her pace, Jekyll focused her attention on the surrounding sounds, listening carefully. Middle members. They assembled together, much like they were waiting for an event or a particular moment to occur. The group ignored the party, and they focused on their own thoughts and conversations, murmuring.

Mark, ever the opportunist, pulled out one of the books he’d looted and tapped a few buttons. As the sound began, a low, distorted melody filled the space, and it was apparent that it was something electronic, which also sounded familiar. The Middle didn’t react much. If anything, they paid even less attention to the group.

Mallo kept walking, unfazed. Like most people, she didn’t stop to question the silence. Dante, however, hesitated. His steps faltered, eyes flicking toward the gathering.

Hyde didn’t let him linger. With a grin on her face, she moved behind him and gave his back a shove. “Come on, Dante. Can’t have you slacking.”

He stumbled forward, muttering something under his breath, but didn’t resist.

“There’s the facility,” Mallo said, pointing ahead. The building was situated in the open, and it was gray and industrial, faintly humming, seemingly with the low but constant vibration of power. The edges of the structure were sharp, and the windows presented a dark appearance.

“Perfect,” Boy replied, adjusting his coat.

Alex paused, his hand still raised. “Last time we came across the Demon Syndicate. I wonder if we’ll meet the Middle.”

“We are not going to meet the Mid—” Mallo began, but then she looked inside.

Her words died.

Fifty Middle members. The building was so crowded that people were packed in tightly, much like sardines in a can. Talking. Laughing. Watching.

Mallo didn’t wait. With a sudden turn, she fled, her boots making a loud slapping sound as they hit the concrete surface. With eyes that were wide and a scramble to follow, the rest of the party stammered after her. She slammed the door to the Lobotomy Corporation Facility shut and leaned against it, laughing breathlessly. “We are NOT going back out there.”

“Yeah, agreed,” Boy said, catching his breath.

Mark tilted his head. “Think I could blend in with the books?”

“Maybe,” Boy said, uncertain. “But I dunno. Maybe with IDs?”

Dante pulled up his panel, scrolling. “I got stuff for Lenore… on Middle… uhm… I could try and pull…” His eyes widened. “Oh. I missed one. Jekyll—erm, Hyde—you have a Middle ID.”

Hyde snapped her head around to face the manager. There is a world where I stoop low enough to join those punks? 

Mark leaned over his shoulder. “Does that say Big Sister?”

Dante blinked. “Wh—”

“Lenore Big Sister?” Mark repeated, incredulous.

Mallo, clearly frustrated and finished with the discussion, shoved past them while exclaiming, “What the actual h— Whatever.” She slammed the elevator button. The object began to emit a dull light, and the lift then commenced its slow descent. “Everyone, get in.”

“I look snazzy,” Mark said, adjusting his coat as he eyed the ID. “Pull that for me, Dante.”

“Let’s just… catch up,” Dante muttered, trying to put his panel away as he stepped forward.

But Hyde stopped him again, her finger tapping the panel. “I wanna try that one,” she said, pointing to the Middle ID. She cast a quick glance over the rest of the identities her manager had for her, but none of them were the one she truly wanted to use. 

One was missing.

The OOOO ID she pulled earlier in the week burned in her mind—bright, insistent, but she didn’t reveal it. Not yet, that’s my surprise tool to help us later. It would be fun to use the Middle ID. She wanted to see Mallo’s face; the horror laced upon it would be delightful.

Jekyll frowned, arms crossed, watching Hyde with quiet unease.

As the group entered the elevator, the metal walls began to shut, encapsulating them inside. The stillness of the area was broken by the continuous sound of operating machinery.

Hyde leaned casually on Dante’s shoulder, tapping his panel with one hand. “Huh,” she said, spotting the ID. She reached into her coat, pulled out the OOOO ID card, and placed it in Dante’s hand with a smirk. Then she turned away as if it were nothing. Maybe scaring him now would be funnier.

Dante stared at the PDA, then let out a surprised train whistle noise. “Huh??? How did you… when did… huh… uh… hm… I don’t think you should have had this…”

Hyde raised her head proudly. “Why not? Won’t it get the job done?” Her smile faded, her face sharpening into something cold. “I pulled it. Clearly, split shards favor me when it comes to pulling. Use it when we need it. There will be a time when you will…”

“I-I meant like you physically should not have the ID card,” Dante stammered. “Like, not in your possession… Still, good catch? Offering her a thumbs-up that was uncertain, he simultaneously tilted his head in her direction. “You should tell others when you’re using the company’s resources.”

Leaning back against the elevator wall with her arms crossed, Hyde's smirk lingered, much like the tendrils of smoke. “I used my ego shards,” she repeated, voice laced with casual superiority. She lied, of course, but it was so casual it didn’t seem like one. 

Dante sighed, defeated. “I… fair enough, yeah.” He tucked his PDA away, shoulders slumping. “That’s a good point. You do have, like, 990 of them.”

Hyde’s eyes flicked toward the manager, sizing him up like a mildly disappointing appetizer. She scoffed, barely audible, but the word slipped out, anyway. “Pushover.” Her thoughts curled inward, smug and self-assured. Haah… I’m even richer in their system, too. It’s like I’m destined to be great. The idea settled in her chest like a crown—unearned, but worn with conviction.

Jekyll, ever the quiet counterbalance, added softly, Well, it is very convenient. And comfortable.

Besides the illusional bus was a blue van. It was small, but just like the bus, it was likely bigger on the inside than the outside. Some would recognize the van as the one that gave them the invitation to the company. A group of people the party had not seen before stood outside, gazing at the approaching bus team. 

“What’s the van doing here?” Mallo cut off her rant and slowed her pace toward the bus. 

“It’s the LCCB; the Limbus Company Before Team,” Dante replied, his flames licking the sky. “I wonder why they are here.” 

Mallo pondered the thought for a moment, catching up with the manager as her black hair swayed behind her. 

“They’ve helped us a few times in the past,” Dante continued. “They could be briefing Vergilius on our next mission.” 

Mallo nodded, leading the party toward the bus. “Oh okay. So, they go and find where we are supposed to go? I guess that’s why they are called the before team.”

 “Quite.” 

Mallo groaned, hoisting the egg up in her arms once again. “Ugh… I’m tired and ready to lie down.” 

“It has been a few days,” Dante affirmed. “Let’s go inside.” 

The spider shifted slowly in Jekyll’s arms, unconsciously forcing her to hold it tighter so it didn’t slip. The doctor did her best to stay apathetic toward the creature. I can’t get attached to it… 

Dante stopped a few feet away from the Before Team outside the bus. “Enjoy your well-deserved rest,” he gestured to the bus. “You all earned it.” 

Jatayu adjusted Mark’s sleeping body in his arms, grunting. “It’s truly been a long week.”

Mallo and Dante were stopped by the before team regarding the abnormality egg, allowing Jekyll and the others to pass by onto the bus immediately. As the door opened, Jekyll met Charon’s dull eyes and gray figure. The doctor stepped onto the bus and gave a polite nod before glancing down the bus hall. 

Vergilius and Faust were in a close huddle, debriefing over a handful of papers Faust was handing to Vergilius. “...And as such, that’ll be our destination coming forth. Faust hopes you’re interested in letting the party know.” She informed. 

The Red Gaze slowly turned his attention to the party grouping up on the bus. He sighed warily. “Speaking of, there the miscreants come.” 

Jekyll slowly moved out of the way and took a seat nearby, making room for more of the members to hop on. Mallo and Dante got on last, missing the egg. Outside of the window, Pen and Othello hopped into the blue van and disappeared as the Before Team closed the door. 

As the guide finished his comment, Mallo chuckled. “Miscreants? I wouldn’t call us that. We did get the golden bough.” 

He wasn’t impressed. “Am I supposed to congratulate you for doing the bare minimum that your job requires?” 

“Miscreants don’t do their jobs, though.” 

Vergilius shrugged, unphased. “You did better than the last group before you, I suppose. You got the first golden bough without failure.” 

Jatayu glanced to the side, dropping Mark onto a nearby chair and shifting uncomfortably. 

“You all have progress reports anyway,” The Red Gaze continued. “To inform me on how your journey went.” 

Mallo inhaled sharply, clasping her fingers together in a single clap. "I... I can tell the report,” she turned toward Dante. 

If the manager had a face, he would be concerned. “Are you sure you want to?” 

“Well, yes. After what you said, I think I should, right? It’s to make me improve…”  The former Lobotomy Corporation employee turned to face the color fixer. “I’m going to lay it straight. Uh, it was a disaster.” 

The next five minutes consisted of Mallo laying out in clear detail the events that occurred along the mission. She made sure to emphasize how the party was almost in one big argument the entire time and did not get along with one another. To Jekyll’s surprise, she also informed him how she was mostly the cause of it and her fault in some of the mission setbacks. To nobody’s surprise, she also made sure to account for Mark’s issues and death, Jekyll’s habits, Lenore’s brawl with her, Pen and Othello’s absence, and much more. It got to the point where Jekyll stopped paying attention because of how long it took. 

It was interesting enough to get the bus driver’s attention, but her gaze wasn’t as harsh as Faust’s and Vergilius’s. By the time the report was wrapped up, the Red Gaze sighed. “I suppose… I expected too much from you lot. I would have thought that in a life-or-death situation—where your dreams and heart’s desires are on the line—you would not have even considered making choices such as these. It was foolish of you, Mallo, to attack your lifeline to this mortal world. It should have been taken with more concern than a mere accident.” 

“It wasn’t an accident, though. It was panic, but it doesn’t excuse my actions. I was, however, the only one to defend Dante against the Sun King." She snapped with annoyance laced in her tongue. “Genuinely, I appreciated the others going to help Jatayu, but it was just me! Lenore and Pen did nothing for the majority of the fight! I should have a punishment for my previous actions, yes, but just as I made a mistake, others did too!” She closed her eyes, huffing a frustrated breath. “I shall accept the punishment that the Red Gaze deems fit.” 

To say that Jekyll did not expect a smirk to appear on the guide’s face was an understatement. “Worry not.” He did not force Mallo’s head to rise when she lowered it. “Your punishment is on the way. There’s nothing that I can do; that what comes next won’t hurt you more.” 

Mallo lifted an eyebrow. “What?” 

“You will learn in time,” he continued. “But temporaries require you to learn the lessons here and now. You’ll be on Mirror Dungeon duty. Specifically, cleaning them.” 

Mallo furrowed her eyes further. The punishment seemed inadequate. “Okay…? I can do that.” 

“Kuvira is already doing your job. She will be there to guide you through the process. You should go and assist her once this meeting is over.” 

The doctor hadn’t noticed when the prisoner woke up, but by how he communicated, it was clear Mark heard a lot of the conversation. “Yeah, uhm, old man, Vergie,” he raised his hand and stood to his feet, swooning back and forth. “Cool if I call you that?” 

The smirk on Vergilius’ face vanished. “No.” 

“There are a few things Mallo left out. On the second encounter on the second floor of the lab or whatever, Mallo came in contact with the mermaid thing that was obsessed with love. She merged with it at some point, shared memories with it, and tried to attack me first. I learned this the second I fused with it. I learned she wanted to kill me with it. You know, just some information that might be useful to you.” 

Mallo seemed confused. “Huh?” 

“Do you not remember the mermaid?” 

“Oh, the thing that said it would do anything for our love? It was a dark room with controlled lights, which I was helping Jatayu find and turn on.” 

“It was dark in there,” Jatayu added. 

Mark turned his gaze back toward Vergilius. “I don’t know why you don’t like being called pal, Vergilius sir; anyway, clockhead has the whole thing in his memory if you want to see it.” 

Mallo objected before the guide could say anything. “Me and Mark combined our efforts against the mermaid. Together, we crippled and defeated it.” 

“It doesn’t matter if we did something good about it; our good and bad actions should be reported equally because we are to be punished for them.” 

Mallo addressed her posture and hand toward Mark, looking at Vergilius with a see-what-I-mean glare. 

“I’m just giving you all the information, Verg. I did what was right back there, and I disobeyed Dante, which got me jumped by everyone. Everyone ganged up on me, a mere twenty-one-year-old who’s new to all this.” 

Mallo’s temper started to boil. “It was Dante’s command to do so!” 

“To dispose of me, not to brutalize me as you all did. I cannot imagine you would brutalize children in such a manner.” 

Hyde scoffed, making Jekyll shudder. Wanna bet? 

Mallo raised her hands and turned toward the back of the bus. “Okay, I’m going to help Kuvira. Don’t you ever… say that again.” 

Mark scoffed, a smirk on his face. “See what I mean? I’m sorry about her, Vergilius. She’s so tempered.” 

Vergilius did not get to speak as Mallo stormed away from the party toward the Mirror Dungeon door in the bus. He sighed, rubbing his head. “This child show has gone on for longer than it should have. I will dictate a fitting punishment later, but more pressing matters are at hand. All of you, take your seats. Faust has important information to brief.” 

Those who weren’t seated found their seats quickly. It did not matter at the time where they were in accordance with the bus, as no one would stay there long after the meeting. 

Faust bowed her head low before staring toward the manager. “First of all, it is worth mentioning your success. Congratulations on your first assignment. This has proved well for your first bonding teamwork despite your complications. This is a stepping stone and a new start to a more grand future than previously seen with the preceding teams. However, there are some pressing news that must be addressed. Othello and Pen, as you can see, are no longer with us. Othello has violated the company code via funds for his unique ammo. Secondly, due to extraneous circumstances and taboos, Pen violated different city regulations and was handled before Limbus Company was dealt with legally. With two open vacancies, Limbus Company has hired and oriented two new individuals to join your party. Both should be arriving in three, two, one…” 

Faust seemed to be pleased by the fact the newcomers came on her cue. The first to step in was a young, blonde man. He was already dressed in LCB attire, which was well-kept and ironed to perfection. He was as tall as the manager, only really being taller than Jekyll. He ran his large hands through his hair and took an observing glance around the party before his eyes stopped on the Red Gaze. He seemed more unnerved the more he looked at him, but he still carried himself with the composure of running by a script. He took a quick, sharp breath to compose himself. “Is this the bus that the LCCB team mentioned?” His voice did not match his tidy appearance and was pitched up like a young boy. “I am Alex. I hope our time together will go productively.” 

Jekyll leaned back in her chair, observing him up and down. She smiled to herself. Huh. He looks like Lucas. If only he knew what he was in for. 

Faust is the first to welcome him. “Welcome, twenty-fifth sinner of Limbus Company, Alex.” 

Dante stepped up from his seat behind Jekyll and brushed off his uniform. He approached Alex, extending his hand. “Tick tock, tick tock, I know you can’t hear me.” 

There was a brief moment of silence as Alex stood there, glancing at Dante curiously, before Mark came up behind the manager, translating for the new kid. “You need to shake his hand.” 

Dante looked back nervously but nodded in approval before speaking again. “Welcome to Limbus Company, Alex. I am your boss.” 

Mark translated. “Welcome to Limbus Company. This clockhead is your boss. You need to make a deal with him.” 

Alex looked on with concern, still not moving from his prior position. “Is everything alright?” 

The back door of the bus opened, and Mallo walked back into the meeting room. It was so quick—too quick, in fact. Cleaning the Mirror Dungeon should’ve taken longer. 

When no one responded, Alex cleared his throat and adjusted his suit also. “Well, I’d better get on with it then. Thank you for providing this opportunity.” He firmly stuck out his hand and clasped it tightly, shaking it up and down. 

It was clear Alex experienced the mortal coil around his soul loosen and tied around Dante with the estranged and exotic look in his eyes. He took a moment to process but didn’t have time to conclude before Dante started speaking. 

“I think that would do the job,” Dante began. “Can you hear me now?” 

Alex tilted his head to the side. “Yes? I think so?” 

Dante let go of the newcomer’s hand. “Good! It’s a pleasure to have a new member on the team! It might be rough settling in honestly, but we will get you situated swiftly.” 

Just as he finished, the doors of the bus flung open as another newcomer came flying in, late behind his schedule. He scrambles in, shaking his head to get the curly, brown hair out of his face, standing just above Alex and Dante in height. His eyes shone with excitement and curiosity, but he was skittish and paranoid with every movement he took. He found his footing and stood straight, catching his breath. His human hand rested and fidgeted with his collar tirelessly. He was also quite young, perhaps younger than the first. He was much more intriguing than Alex, as he was accompanied by a rat’s tail, hand, leg, and ears. He tried to straighten out his tie but failed to do so. “S-Sorry I’m late,” he stammered, talking quickly with anxiousness. “I got held up by something. Hi, I’m Boy; it’s very nice to meet you.” He extended his rat hand in the air and tried to wave it normally, but it flopped oddly as if the movement wasn’t natural. 

I didn’t think I’d see someone from Old G Corp, Hyde scoffed. What kind of unique paintings I could make with their special parts remains to be seen.

Hyde! 

“Oh my gosh!” Dante backed away, resting one of his hands in front of his chest in shock. “That man’s a rat!” 

Mallo tried desperately to hold back a burst of laughter. 

Mark raised an eyebrow. “A lil’ bit racist, aren’t you, Dante?” 

Lenore shrugged. “Well, look at him. He is a rat.” 

“Even if he is, you don’t have to say it in such a way, Dante.” Despite his criticism, it seemed like Mark enjoyed the opportunity he pounced upon. 

Mallo couldn’t hold it back anymore and let the cackle escape her throat.

“You can understand this lad?” Boy gestured to Mark and Dante. “All I heard was a train horn.” 

“You need to give…” Mark paused briefly. “Whatever hand that works to the manager and shake it to understand him. It’s part of the contract.” 

Alex gently stood to the side, letting go of Dante’s hand and watching the scene unfold, almost grateful the attention was off him. 

Boy shook his head, understanding. “Oh! Duh, right, I’ll give my right hand,” he raised it to show Mark it was his human hand before extending it toward Dante. 

Dante reached out and shook it firmly before nodding. “Welcome to Limbus Company. Sorry for my sudden outburst. I apologize if it was offensive.” 

The second newcomer shrugged carelessly. “If it was a surprise about my body, it’s understandable. It’s not every day you see someone like me. I didn’t hear you anyway!” 

Mallo warped her way around the people standing in the hall to approach the new members. Her eyes narrowed in disappointment. “So who are these two?” 

“Faust introduced them as Alex and Boy,” Lenore replied before furrowing her own eyebrows. “Wait, his name is just Boy?” 

Mallo glanced around. “Did… Did you not see me leave the room earlier?” 

Faust stepped in. “However, you did come back.” 

“After you had already explained everything,” Mallo interjected, dismissing Faust. “Who is who?” 

Boy raised his rat hand again. “I’m Boy.” 

A smile grew on Lenore’s face. “Are you Boy, or are you Man?” 

He rolled his eyes. “I’ve heard that so many times.” 

“It’s a unique name, but not the most unusual name I’ve heard,” Mallo acknowledged. 

Dante gently rested his hand on Mallo’s shoulder to get her to stop before speaking up. “Well… Boy, Alex, I am Dante, just as I’ve introduced myself earlier. I am your manager, but I suppose it’s time you meet and greet the rest of your team. Lenore, could you start by introducing herself?” 

Lenore gave Dante a side-eye. “Sure, just my name or…?” She cleared her throat, not waiting for a reply. “I’m Lenore; I mostly just love fighting at work. The same goes for all of us. I hope you do not suck at hitting things because we will do it a lot.” 

Alex nodded, whereas Boy seemed unsure, his arms shaking slightly. “I’m not great at it, but I can manage and get around.” 

“By distractions?” 

“Uhm… poisons.” 

Mark scoffed. “So you’re a coward.” 

The rat glanced toward the prisoner. “What? Yes...” 

Mallo smirked to herself. 

“You got the balls, kid,” Mark commented. 

“For once, I agree with Mark,” Mallo added. 

“Like how you agreed with me in the dungeon, inside the mermaid?” 

“What? No! We never agreed there!” 

“But we agreed to get out of the situation together, and we agreed on—” 

“Shut up!” 

“When I am right, you are mad,” Mark shrugged, turning away from the newcomers and walking toward the back of the bus. 

Alex didn’t let the silence last long. “I’m good at cleaning up foes if that helps. I make sure it doesn’t get lost in the sauce.” 

“Do you mean actual cleaning or killing?” Lenore asked. 

“Both could be helpful,” Boy commented. 

“One job is for the LCA, not us,” Lenore clarified. 

Dante cleared his throat, causing everyone to silence their voices. “You just met Mark and Mallo,” he pointed to each one. 

“I thought you said you were going in a circle? Jatayu is next,” Mallo gestured to the veteran with a soft smile. 

Jatayu nodded slowly. “Thank you, Mallo,” he bowed his head toward the newcomers. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Jatayu. A free shot is good enough for us, Alex and poison will work greatly in this field, Boy.”

“Hopefully,” Boy nodded his head in return. 

“Lastly,” Dante extended his hand sideways toward the doctor sitting in the front seat, legs and arms crossed. 

Do not forget to let them know of my presence. Hyde warned. Remember what happened last time? 

Jekyll cleared her throat, not moving from her position. She made sure her voice was clear and professional to set an expectation. You will not see me as a wavering, timid person like the others. “Jekyll, Dr. Jekyll. In other circumstances, I am called Hyde. It is a complicated circumstance to determine who is who, but I wish not to explain that to you now. For now, I am Dr. Jekyll.” 

Hyde, although pleased with the greeting, seemed unsatisfied with how it was presented. At least you finally introduced me. 

The two seemed oddly unphased. “Alright,” Boy shrugged. 

“Just tell us when to call you what you want, when you want, I suppose?” Alex added. “Thank you for the introduction.” 

Jekyll gently nodded in return, sighing to herself. How many more people have to know before we take care of the issue? 

Believe me, hun, I am not the one with the issue here. 

Mallo cleared her throat and made her way past Dante. “I want to do my proper introduction,” she offered her hand toward them. 

Each of the newcomers shook it according to their personalities. Boy’s was skittish and quick, and Alex’s was firm and established. 

“It’s lovely to meet you,” Mallo continued. “I never heard too much about where you seem to be from,” she glanced at Alex. “R Corp, right?” 

“Who’s to say he doesn’t have experience with all the corporations?” Lenore interjected. 

The spider squirmed by Jekyll in the seat, glancing up at her. The doctor slowly picked it up and stood up, walking toward the back of the bus and handing the creature to Jatayu. The conversation felt overwhelming, and Jekyll was not interested in either of the new candidates getting to know them. She didn’t hear what Jatayu said as she passed the guide and Faust toward the back of the bus. 

The decorative, hotel-like hallway had the doors looking like they were straight out of a fantasy novel. Jekyll quickly found the one with her name on it and tugged on the large, gold door handle. The moment she stepped inside, she saw the ghost-like manifestation of Hyde. 

Jekyll didn’t bother looking at her as she flopped on the bed, letting out a relaxed sigh as she sank into it. 

As she heard Hyde also flop on the other bed, she slowly turned her head to watch, taking the monocle off. 

The room’s floor was covered with blood. It ran like a river between the cracks. The walls were split, with one half of the room gray with crystalized, blue decorations. It was meant to look pretty on the outside, but they reminded Jekyll too much of the Split Shards drug for her to like them. The decorations were accompanied by eyes, making them more unsettling. Her bed was in the corner next to desks and tables full of jars and testing tubes. The only thing that resembled what she wanted people to see was the therapy couch and book near the window. 

On Hyde’s side of the room, the walls were painted black. Everything was covered in paint of many colors. There were blank and sketched canvases everywhere. Despite the horrid sight, nothing stank. The window was also on Hyde’s side of the room. Outside, all that could be seen was a snowy alleyway forever stuck in the time of night. Hyde sat on the therapy couch for a moment, tapping her foot before walking over to Jekyll, extending her hands. 

“Supplies,” she demanded.

Jekyll stared at her for a bit before sitting up slowly, taking off her jacket, and unbuttoning the jars and vials they had collected on the previous journey. She handed them to Hyde, who didn’t hesitate to snatch them out of her hands and walk over to one of the canvases. She pulled out a pencil from her belt and started to sketch out an idea. 

“Realism?” Jekyll asked. 

“It’ll be a combination of both this time,” Hyde leaned over, staring at the canvas intently. “I plan to paint our experience with the company so far.” She unscrewed Gerald’s glass remains and started to pin them to the canvas, shuffling them around to get the look she wanted. 

Jekyll rolled over in her bed lazily, not finding the energy to oppose any further. She tried to close her eyes, but they stung every time the lids of her eyes closed over her pupils. She groaned, rubbing her face before sitting up. Her eyes rested on Hyde as she contemplated how to start the painting they both envisioned. 

Hyde stopped sketching on the canvas and took a step back, smiling to herself. She rotated it so Jekyll could see. “Not that I care about your opinion, but this seems like something you would appreciate.” 

Jekyll wobbled on her heels as she got up from the bed and observed the painting closely. There were many lines for planned abstraction and smearing of blood, but Hyde had done a decent job at painting Jatayu in the middle of the massacre. Jekyll could see where Hyde planned to place the green demon syndicate goo, the blood, Gerald’s shards, and the guts they’d collected along their journey. Jatayu was in the center of the canvas, traveling downward from the sunlit sky, shoving his tanfas into the ground of the supposed Sun King lightly sketched under him. Demon Syndicate members and other enemies were left in shambles around the center of the masterpiece. The bloodshed would be the abstract part of the painting, versus the incredible realism in the center, contrasting the two art styles. 

“Impressive,” Jekyll nodded in agreement. “It would sell quite well.” 

Hyde smirked, twirling a small paintbrush in her hand before dipping it into a jar of blood, mixing it and the water of the blood together. “Do you think Jatayu would buy it?” 

“Not for the price you’d want to sell it for.” 

“Hmm, true, I suppose not everyone is rich like us.” 

Jekyll ran her finger along the Sun King’s head, blurring it. She tapped her thumb to her chin, observing the details more carefully. “Don’t forget the abnormality’s fire crown. It’ll signal to the onlookers that the man is overthrowing a wicked authority.” 

Hyde raised her eyebrow and tilted her head toward Jekyll. “Very well.” 

Jekyll’s eyes adverted toward Gerald’s shards, and her heart ached upon looking at them. Her thoughts ran back to the spider the party collected at the top of the spire, and she shook her head. Ripping her gaze away from the painting, she strolled back over to her part of the room and started looking through the files on her desk. 

Hyde continued to paint in silence, cracking open various jars and distributing them across the canvas. It would have smelled awful if Jekyll wasn’t used to the stench of death. Jekyll ran her hands through the files, surprised that most of the ones from her office were there, at least the ones she committed to memory. 

"Documents, logs, reports..." Jekyll muttered to herself, mindlessly shuffling through the papers. She didn’t really wish to look through them; she left all of it behind for a reason. However, if she planned to go back, she’d have to go right back into what she was doing before. 

“You know,” Hyde began, resting her elbow on her hip as she flipped a paintbrush in her hand. “I think this whole adventure would be better if we... worked together.” 

“You mean, letting you out more?” 

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Jekyll,” Hyde chuckled, clicking her lips together as she tapped her foot before adding another stroke to the canvas. “I’d hate to bicker with you through the whole journey here.” 

Jekyll turned around, staring Hyde square in the eyes. “We are only bickering because you want to ruin my already-tarnished reputation! I don’t need any more issues with people!” 

Hyde paused, looking back; her posture slouched, showing that she wasn’t taking the conversation seriously. She glanced back and forth from the canvas to Jekyll, putting on a confused expression. “They already know; what’s the big deal? It’s not like I’m a secret anymore.” 

Jekyll took a deep breath, rubbing her face and letting her hair fall to her waist, brushing her fingers through it. “They can’t know about—” “The horrible things I’ve done?” Hyde scoffed. “Did you not see Jatayu’s whole past through his memories? Unless we complete our job before it’s ‘our turn’, they are gonna find out. Besides, what’s the harm?” 

Jekyll shook her head. “They’ll kill us.” 

“Not if we work together to get our job done faster,” Hyde hinted. She walked up to Jekyll, resting a hand on her shoulder. “...Hah… It’s weird being able to do that.” 

Jekyll shuddered, staring into the only person that scared her to her core. To look her greatest fear in her eyes—the one who ruined her life—took a strength she did not have. “...Yeah, weird.” 

“Don’t be frightened,” Hyde smirked. “I’m on your side~ I am here to get you out of this and us out of here. I’m proposing that we work together like old times instead of bickering. You’ve proven your usefulness in negotiating circumstances, versus me in combat.” The grip on Jekyll’s shoulder tightened. “You know my true intentions, darling.” 

Jekyll paused. “...Don’t call me that.” 

“Hmm. Yeah, that was odd,” Hyde stepped back, traveling back toward her in-progress painting before looking back. “You know how I operate, and you know I’m being genuine with you. I cannot hide my true intentions. I want to get away from you just as you from me. You are afraid to express what I do for you." Hyde couldn’t stop her laughter, cutting herself off. 

Jekyll shivered at the thought. “I could never do the awful things you’ve done.” 

“No, but you created me for a reason.” Hyde’s smile faded as she eyed the Split Shard drug in the corner of the room. “I want to be let out more. I’m tired of you trying to excuse my actions like I’m some kind of... pet being wrangled in by its owner.” 

“I’m tired of you trying to crumble the image I’ve tried to put up to these people,” Jekyll backfired. “Our lives were perfect until you ruined it.” 

“It was not my decision to try and hide me, yet leave all your assets to me.” 

Jekyll bit her lip, scrunching her face. “Okay, yes, that was stupid on my part…” 

“It’s why we are here,” Hyde shook her head. “You were so afraid of getting arrested for my sake, that you fled. You know how guilty that must’ve made you look?” 

“Us… look. For all they know, you kidnapped me.” 

“You better hope it stays that way for your benefit,” Hyde mocked. “That is why I’m proposing we work together to get the job done quicker. Us being at odds has only hindered both of us.” 

Jekyll sighed, pondering the thought. “And if we complete our contract, what then?” 

“We can go back to our normal lives, maybe even as different people,” Hyde smiled at the thought. “You can hide in your mansion, and I can fulfill my passion.” 

Jekyll sighed, thinking about the possibility of fulfilling one’s greatest desire with a golden bough. The silence that echoed in the room was only interrupted by Hyde’s bloodstrokes on the canvas. The thought of Hyde leaving did not bring any relief, to the doctor’s surprise. Despite what Hyde had done, Jekyll had relied on her for so long, that she couldn’t just give her up like that. What if there came a time when she needed her, but she was no longer around?  

“What if you didn’t leave?” Jekyll finally proposed. “What if I just let you out more?” 

Hyde stopped painting, freezing in place. She slowly turned to face her counterpart, curious. “Elaborate.” 

“Well…” Jekyll tried to scramble her thoughts together. “You proposed an alliance. A promise to work together. I'm willing to do so, and let you out more, on one condition.” 

“I’m listening.” 

"Can you try to not ruin our reputation? Can you try to cooperate with the others?” 

Hyde pursed her lips, leaning on her left hip as she stared at the floor, tapping the soaked paintbrush on her side. “Mmm… Fine.” 

Jekyll bowed her head, sighing in relief. “Thank you.” 

“Besides, we want the same things anyway,” Hyde chuckled to herself, shaking the paint jar and frowning as she scraped the last of the supplies out of it. “We just have different ways of obtaining it.” 

Jekyll shook her head. “I… don’t think—” 

“I’m out of paint supplies.” Hyde frowned, setting the jar on the nearby table. The painting before her was half done. She did not have enough materials to finish coloring Jatayu and the Sun King, but the background was finished. “Say, don’t they have some in the mirror dungeons? Let’s go grab some.” 

Jekyll glanced at the door, her shoulders dropping. “I’m so tired.” 

“I can take the front.” 

“Hmm… I suppose we could go check then.” 

Hyde nodded and headed toward the door. The closer she got, the further Jekyll faded back into Hyde’s mind, and they shared a body once more. Hyde adjusted her hair, pinning it up to offer the illusion of Jekyll as she exited. 

Lenore, Jatayu, and Alex were in the hallway. “Hello Jekyll,” Lenore caught her immediately as she opened the door. “Wanna help us onboard Alex?” 

It’s Dr. Jekyll… Jekyll sighed, grunting. 

Hey, take your rest; I got this. Hyde cleared her throat and made her voice more high-pitched. “Uhm… l-later… I need to do a few things.” She timidly said as she turned her heel and started walking toward the Mirror Dungeon hall. 

“Huh. Ominous,” Lenore commented. 

“Well, have fun!” Jatayu called out, smiling. 

…

What? 

How the hell did you pull my impression off so well? That was scary convincing. 

Hyde shrugged. It’s not hard to act like you when it feels like I’m being timid when you are. 

Touché. 

It didn’t take long for Hyde to travel down the ominous hall, her feet silent on the ground as she approached the large, black door. It took a bit of effort for her to lift the handle, but once she got it open, the large door slowly swung open, and she stepped inside. 

Jekyll and Hyde understood that the Mirror Dungeon was like a battle training ground that brought up fights previously fought for training. There were supposedly many floors, but it currently looked like an empty box with a few lights on. Perhaps it showed more promise and room when it was turned on. 

The only thing that stood out in the blank room was the three terrible-smelling buckets, the ladder, and the person on top of said ladder. The assistant had her head up in the ceiling, tweaking a few things before she glanced down, her skin beaming and her smile shimmering. “Ah! Jekyll! I didn’t expect to see you here!” 

Hyde observed her slowly and frowned. Ugh, her energy is so vibrant like mom's... “I don’t mean to disturb you,” her voice was charismatic and chill. “I am just here to grab some supplies.” 

“Supplies?” Kuvira tilted her head, her brown hair falling over her shoulder. She slowly made her way down the ladder before gracefully landing her feet on the side of the buckets. “There’s not much in here. The supply room would have been the other way. Why, unless you’re talking about some tools you need! I am using a few to repair the mirror dungeon as it was malfunctioning recently, weird, right? I can lend you some, but I might have to come hunt you down if you like to use them for too long because, oh boy, once I find a problem, there seems to be another. I might even have to get Jatayu’s house on—” 

Hyde raised her hand, demonstrating that she was not interested. “I am here for some blood, Kuvira. I came to get it for a project; I don’t need any other information.” 

Kuvira paused and nodded slowly. “Ah! Yes, I should’ve expected as much. Mr. Red Gaze did say something about your other half liking to paint with such stuff... that’s a Ring thing, yeah? I’ve heard many things about them, how they are one of the Five Fingers, spread across the city and—” 

“You don’t need to relay information to me, as I said,” Hyde forced a smile, trying to remain calm. “I know what the Ring is, and yes, you are correct.” 

Hyde, I can feel—

Not now. 

“That must have been a really unique experience!” Kuvira went on. “I’m sure you have so much talent when it comes to art! I’d lend a hand if I had any artistic talent at all, but heh, I can’t say much as I even forgot how to read,” she scratched her head and chuckled softly. “I know some of these remains are supposed to feed the bus, but I could probably lend you a little bit of what you need because you asked so nicely; I don’t mind!” 

“It wasn’t an ask.” Hyde marched over to the buckets, looking inside them. The blood was not the color red it was supposed to be. She frowned. “It was more letting you know what I was going to do... but this color of red is... distasteful.” 

“Ah, I’m sorry about that,” Kuvira glanced inside the buckets as well, not even wrinkling her nose. “This is just what me and Mallo swept up earlier; I’m not sure I can change that.” 

“Hmm. I shall turn this thing on and fight some minions myself. Then I can gather the supplies fresh.” Hyde raised her head proudly. “It can’t be that hard to do it alone.” 

“Uhm,” Kuvira’s smile faded, and she walked back over to the ladder. “I wouldn’t do so.” 

“Why?” The painter scoffed, smirking as she glanced over at the assistant. “Scared of a little bloodshed?” 

Hyde, don’t antagonize her! 

“Of course not,” Kuvira smiled and shook her head, climbing the ladder to look at the ceiling again. “I just really, really don’t like fighting." 

“So you’re a coward.” 

“I wouldn’t say that... Also, this thing needs to be repaired.” 

Hyde raised an eyebrow. What coward doesn’t wish to fight and avoid it at all costs? “Sounds like an excuse.” 

Kuvira paused for a moment, the glow on her skin shrinking slightly. Her blue seemed to... discolor. “We can turn on the mirror dungeon once I’m done. I’d be happy to watch your incredible skills!” She slowly closed the hatch of the ceiling. It wasn’t the most stable, but it would hold until she got back up with another tool. 

A defenseless woman, here on the bus, with no revive... Hyde smirked to herself. I wonder if her blood would be good on a painting...

Hyde, no! She can’t come back from the dead like the others!

Surely, they don’t need her around. Look at her smiling like that. No one smiles in the city like that. 

...I don’t know. 

We don’t even need to kill her; we could just, well, borrow a finger or two.

Jekyll didn’t reply as Hyde grabbed her paintbrush from her back, resting the tip of it on the floor. She watched Kuvira carefully, waiting for a moment to strike. 

Kuvira shuffled her hands through the toolbox before her eyes lit up at finding the screwdriver. She stood to her feet before slowly looking back at Hyde. Her smile wavered. “Is everything alright?” 

“Do you know how to fight, Kuvira?” Hyde tilted her head, slowly smiling. “If I wanted to borrow your blood for a painting, would you be able to stop me from taking your life along with it?” 

The assistant froze, the blood draining from her face. She took a step back, her eyes turning from a soft blue to a more hazel-like color. Her hair became darker. "I wouldn’t do that, Jekyll. I told you I’m not into fighting.” 

“It’s Hyde right now... Someone as joyful as you don’t last long in the streets.” Hyde took a step closer, closing each gap Kuvira made as she rotated her brush. “I’d like to know how you lived this long if you’re not a fighter. If you are, this will make this more entertaining. No one is ever as happy as you. You are untrustworthy, and a liar; don't think I can't see right through you!”

“You can’t.”

Hyde stopped, furrowing her eyes. The backtalk was something that caught her off guard, but it was not something she would tolerate. “Excuse me?”

Kuvira hitched in a controlled breath. "You can't see through me." 

The painter scoffed. "You are pathetic to think I can't." 

Kuvira continued to back away, slowly walking in a circle back toward the ladder. "...You remind me a lot of who I used to be."

Is this moron serious? "Stop with the talk! I can kill you with one swipe." 

"Don't do that, please. You will regret it." Kuvira glanced around worriedly, her feet light against the dark panels of the floor. "J-Hyde, this isn’t a good idea. You will get more of what you need on your next mission, but don’t try to take it from me.” Her green scarf trailed behind her; it was a miracle it didn’t trip her. Her glowing skin and her small blue necklace began to dim more, and she slowly became more panicked as it did so.

“Scared of a little brawl?” Hyde teased, walking closer. “Doesn’t fear feel so delightful?” 

Kuvira stopped in her tracks, eventually ending up in the same spot by the ladder as she had before. Hyde approached her slowly as if to get a reaction, to make her feel fear and beg for mercy. 

But there was none of that. The more that Hyde advanced, the more that sense of fear led from her target. Kuvira soon stood up, her eyes fully hazel. The glow in her skin vanished, and there was something dark about her appearance—something unnatural. 

Something Hyde never wanted to face. 

Her mood changed. “I simply don’t want to hurt you, or happen to get caught when you turn into a pulp on the ground.” 

Jekyll froze in terror. What? 

Hyde laughed, scoffing. “HAH! You, turn me into a pulp? Do you know who you’re talking to? I am D—” 

“I don’t care who you are.” Kuvira’s voice was low and dangerous. Her posture was straight, and she clasped her hands together as if she were meeting somebody formally. Her voice became softer and and lower, as if she spoke with less passion, volume, and enthusiasm. “Take my advice and don’t seal your fate to the inevitable. You are not high and mighty to everyone here.” 

Hyde paused for a moment, sensing the change in demeanor. She twirled her paintbrush in her hands confidently, regaining her composure. “Your intimidation tactics won’t save you,” Hyde began. “I’d offer more chit-chat, but I’m fresh out of time.” 

Hyde lunged for Kuvira with all her speed, swinging her paintbrush toward her.

She missed. 

With one swift motion, Kuvira dodged effortlessly to the side, not even knocking over the buckets on the floor. Her scarf slowly fell to her sides as if they were magic, and she almost cracked a smile. “Jekyll, don’t make me hurt you.” 

“It’s Hyde!” Hyde grunted, lunging again, only to be met by the same fate. She breathed heavily as she glanced up at Kuvira, her eyes furrowing. What the hell?!

Why is she moving so fast? Jekyll added, clenching her arms. 

“I won’t be so merciful if you try again, Jekyll." Kuvira blinked slowly, but it was a kind of gesture that showed her test of patience. “You are not making wise choices. Actions like these will seal your fate for the worse. I meant you no harm.” 

Hyde stood up, cracking her back before smirking. “I don’t care if you’re innocent or guilty of some horrendous crime. Stop being a coward and fight me! Earn your right to live!” 

Kuvira sighed, closing her eyes. 

Hyde didn’t waste any more moments. She lunged for her again with a silent attack, hoping to catch her off guard. 

Suddenly, Hyde was stopped in place. The whole Mirror Dungeon started to shake as yellow and black magic seeped from the cracks of the repairs. Before Hyde could blink, she was tied down by tendrils she couldn’t describe. They seeped into her skin and caused her to gasp in agony. It felt like every one of her systems immediately exploded and stopped working from the inside, causing her muscles to tighten and panic. 

Kuvira had simply lifted a finger. All Hyde remembered was her moving the same finger again before the life was sucked out of her, and everything went black. 

* * *

Every time Jekyll came back from the dead, she felt like the hands gripped and ripped at her soul more harshly and with more force. Each time Dante opened the door to rip her out of hell, it was more painful, as if her evil deeds were piling up on her and refusing to let her leave. She almost felt bad thinking about how much pain Dante would be in, but her thoughts didn’t fully sort until her body slowly formed... inside of a bucket. 

Jekyll slowly took the bucket off her hand; the first thing she saw was Mark also being rewound from some sort of head injury. The next thing she saw was Dante crumbling to the floor, gasping in pain, and clutching his chest. 

“...Side effects! Great for medicine!” Boy shouted.

It seemed that everyone was in the room. Vergilius, Charon, Faust, Mallo, Alex, Boy, Jatayu, Mark, Lenore, and Kuvira. They all chatted amongst one another, the newcomers more paranoid than the others. Mark rubbed his head as consciousness returned to him as well, leaving both of them confused. 

What the hell happened? 

Mallo was the first to walk over to Jekyll. “That’s not important right now,” she told Boy before bending to meet Jekyll’s eyes. “What happened to you?” 

Jekyll opened her mouth, but suddenly, her words got caught in her throat. An impending fear that she was not used to grew in her chest and left her speechless. She slowly turned her eyes, catching Kuvira staring at her with the harshest gaze she had ever seen. The doctor’s face grew pale, and she gripped her hands together, turning her knuckles white to hide their shaking. She reached up to rub her head, trying to look around innocently. “I don't... remember..." She lied through her teeth, keeping her voice straight. 

The harsh gaze from the assistant was quickly removed, and her normal, bright, light-hearted composure returned as if nothing happened. 

What… Hyde breathed, also feeling the overwhelming fear. Who is she? 

I don’t know... but it’s scary that she’s here... 

I’ve never even heard of such magic… 

“If I had pain medication, I’d give it to you,” Boy offered sweetly, eyeing Jekyll in a much more friendly way. 

Mark got a read on the situation and started commenting. “You could inject it.” 

“I don’t want to test it on anyone here,” Boy shook his head. “I am genetically messed up, so it doesn’t mean what works on me will work on you.” 

“You can still test it on us,” Mark implied. “Dante can just rewind us when he’s close. Could come in handy to help Dante too, if he’s human, right?” 

Faust nodded. “Dante is one hundred percent human.” 

“See? You can test it on us, then test it on Dante when it works.” 

“It also requires a lot of medication that I don’t have,” Boy explained. 

Jekyll almost spoke up, trying to calm her nerves down. I have some medication experience; I could help you out. 

“If there is medicine in you, and you die, does the medicine come back too when you are rewound?” Lenore asked, stepping forward with a weapon in hand. 

Dante groaned and lifted his clock from the floor. "Please, let’s not die…” 

Jekyll almost felt a pang of guilt. I’m sorry, Dante. I didn’t think Kuvira was... well...

She hit us like a truck. Impressive… and terrifying that she probably does not favor us now. 

Bot shook his head furiously. “I don’t want to be blood soup!” He pointed at Jekyll and the bucket near her. 

“We are going to die either way,” Mallo objected. “Might as well.” 

“I just watched someone become soup!” Boy shook, his voice getting louder before he took a breath. “I need to calm down.” 

“I’ve only been revived once, but it’s not that bad,” Lenore explained. “Off topic, but have we explained EGO and corrosion to the newbies?” 

“I know about EGO, not corrosion.” 

“Corrosion is when the EGO of an abnormality takes control of you,” Mallo and Mark said at the same time. There was a moment of silence that followed as they glared at each other. 

Boy laughed nervously, putting his rat hand to his head. “Am I on drugs?” 

Faust shook her head. “Faust finds their explanation unreliable.” 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about." Mallo’s retort was followed by a glare shifting toward Faust. “I worked at L Corp; you did not.” 

“Faust was employed at L Corp; I was not.” 

Mallo paused. “...What? You can’t just say you did, yet you didn’t do something. What do you mean?” 

Her only reply was a smug grin. 

Mark raised an eyebrow and stood to his feet, hand on his knee to push himself up. “Do you mean like an ID of yours?” 

“You could suggest that, yes. It is the most accurate to the situation.” 

Mark shared Faust’s grin as he turned to Mallo. “See?” 

“But that’s not you!” Mallo argued. “That’s just an alternate timeline version of you!” 

“Does it matter?” Lenore interjected. 

“Yes, it matters!” Mallo was not having it. “IDs don’t bleed over, so their experience is not ours firsthand!” 

“It’s still you; that’s the whole point of the technology,” Lenore inquired. 

“Are you and your One Who Grips ID the same then?” 

“I disagree with her perhaps, but it is still me.” 

“Yes, it’s an alternate version of you but not—” 

“I think there are better things to constitute than arguing what a soul is regarding IDs,” Boy stammered. 

Mallo glanced back toward him. “Abnormalities can take your soul.” 

“WHAT?!”

Mallo went on a tangent that Jekyll didn’t pay attention to. She slowly crawled over to where Dante was sitting on the ground and sat next to him. She shrunk back as she watched Kuvira walk by, talking to Dante casually and asking him for help on the repairs in the Mirror Dungeon. The veteran obliged and followed the assistant inside. 

RIP Jatayu. 

He won’t provoke her like you did! Jekyll sighed. What happened to working together? 

My mistake: out of all the things, I didn’t expect THAT. 

Despite Mallo’s ramble in the background, Jekyll was able to pick up on a small conversation the manager had. “I hope that Jatayu and Lenore were treating you well,” he gestured to Alex.

He nodded formally. "They were very helpful, yes. Very informative."

Boy tried to exit from the party, moving out of the way, but Mallo and Lenore grabbed his arms, insisting that he stay. They both started to head over to Dante with Boy in hand. 

Dante didn’t notice. "Ah... good. Were they able to help get you situated with combat any? Apologies for rushing the gun, but, as you can see, a lot is going on."

“We did consider it, yes. But we thought better considering we'd get into combat eventually and were looking into the EGO storage before..." Alex gestured toward the incident. "We might as well get it over with."

Dante’s attention had to be brought to Mallo, Lenore, and Boy as they came over and discussed the opportunity to train him. 

“It’s fine, really; I’d rather not die." Boy shook his head, trying to back away. It was clear he was not into the idea.

Dante chuckled. “I’m sure you both will do fine." 

“You will die,” Mallo interjected. 

“Not today, please!” Boy stammered. 

“You die, get up, and die again, and you get up and try again!” 

“I can step back and watch someone else do it!” 

“If only,” Lenore crossed her arms and shook her head. 

“You can use your drugs if you want, if they even work,” Mallo added. 

“I don’t know! That’s like the number one rule of the backstreets, you don’t test your own drugs on yourself!” 

…

…

The conversation had stopped, despite everyone still chatting. Jekyll stared in absolute horror at Boy, flashing back to the time when she did the exact opposite. 

That’s what Mark said at the...

We did that, yet we turned out fine...

But, we weren’t supposed to... How does he know that? Was that a common rule I just... missed? Jekyll gripped her cloak where the Split Shards vial was. She breathed heavily.

He truly has no idea. He’s in for a treat. 

It was only Dante’s voice that snapped Jekyll out of her trance. “If it helps any, I was going to have you guys do an easy battle. Alex is an Ex R Corp employee, and both of you can work on some minor and easy things.” He ticked slowly, trying to calm Boy down. 

“Any help is appreciated. That is, if you’re offering. With someone’s help, the task wouldn’t be a hard pill to swallow,” Alex said. 

Mallo moved to the side to observe the newcomers up and down again. “Hmm… I need someone competent in there, just to make sure. Our first round was a complete mess, so send in a person who knows what they are doing, Dante. Send me, Lenore, Mark, or Jekyll… any one of us works.” 

“I’d rather send Faust,” Dante argued. “You just smacked Mark against the head and killed him.” 

“It was consensual!” 

Boy shook his head. “I don’t think that helped!” 

“It was—” 

The party went on and on about teamwork, who had done the most wrong, and something about whether or not to do combat. It was difficult to string any pieces together, but all grew silent as a red glow appeared in the room and the guide stepped forward. With a single movement, he silenced everyone in the room. 

Jekyll glanced toward the Mirror Dungeon door. I wonder if he knows what she’s hiding. 

“May I inquire about the bickering?” Vergilius asked calmly. 

Mallo was the first to recover her senses and reply. “We are trying to decide if Boy and Alex should go into combat, and which one of us is competent enough to teach them. I’m suggesting me or Mark.” 

Is she mad? Hyde scoffed, enjoying the sight. 

Jekyll was also confused. Wasn’t she screaming at Mark before this? 

“Maybe offer someone who doesn’t have a record,” Mark jabbed. 

“Send two sinners in with the newcomers,” Vergilius more demanded of the solution than offered it. 

Mallo nodded. “Why don’t both of you pick one to go with you?” 

Boy shuddered when the spotlight was shifted to him. “I guess Mark? Given the information...” 

“That’s one,” Vergilius gestures to Alex. “Who?” 

Alex turned to Lenore. “If you’d be so kind?” 

There was more senseless talk among them, mainly with Mallo objecting to the choice. Jekyll slowly got to her feet, trying to get out of the way of the chaos. She slowly ventured toward the hallway, attempting to make a sneaky escape. However, all of her stealth failed the moment Kuvira came out of the Mirror Dungeon. Fear overtook her heart and she booked it out of the room, running toward the end of the bus, down the halls, past the storage...

Eventually, after her heart had settled down, the doctor found herself in a room with a large chained ball hanging over a pit. To the right were piles and piles of metal, red flower-shaped things. They looked like artificial roses. Before the drop where the chain ball hung was a large metal door and a small chamber to fit in said flowers. 

Jekyll approached the machine slowly, eyeing it carefully. What is this? 

Hyde also watched carefully. I don’t recall them talking about this…

Did we go too far in the corridor? Jekyll wandered over to the metal flowers, picking one up and running her hands along its pedals. 

Why don’t you put it in the slot? See what happens. 

Curiosity got the better of her. Her steps echoed along the wooden floor as she carried the object and placed it in the designated slot. 

With creaks and turns, the chain wheel started to glow and spin. The doors opened more as the chains wrapped around the strange glowing ball shot out toward what looked like a starry night sky. Everything glowed red and orange as the facade of the night cracked. It shattered as the Split Shards shrugged, the holes in the machine revealing the mirror worlds. Each chain went into a new mirror world. Some of them were dull, some were red, and one was bright yellow. 

Jekyll’s mouth dropped. She had seen mirror worlds before, but never had she seen something be able to cross into them. After staring a long while, she placed her hand on the glowing lunacy. It faded at her touch, and all the chains retracted into the ball, pulling out what they had found in other worlds. 

To the left, there was a small machine that printed cards that looked similar to the ones Dante used for IDs. Jekyll waddled over with awe and curiosity as she searched them. Most of them were just duplicates of herself, which was typical. That’s mostly what I see when I use the split shards drug...

But one of them stood out. One of them was bright yellow and shined, unlike the rest. Jekyll gripped it with her hands and blew the dust off it, her eyes widening what she saw. 

It was Hyde but in a white outfit and a Ring weapon. Her hair was back, and she possessed no monocle. The card had OOOO on it; she wasn’t sure what that meant, but she almost dropped the card the moment she read the title of it.