#lcb-2

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. 

“He refused upon notice to obey your order,” she replied, letting the words settle like a dropped stone.

“What do you mean he refused?” Dante’s tone sharpened. “Is he just staying on the bus?”

“No,” Jekyll said, folding her hands neatly in her lap. “He just refused. Said he didn’t need to come.”

The room shifted slightly with the news. Mallo re-entered from the balcony, the scent of smoke trailing behind her like a shadow. She extinguished her cigarette with a practiced flick, her eyes narrowing as she caught the tail end of the conversation. Lenore, seated nearby, looked momentarily stunned, her gaze flicking between Jekyll and Dante as if trying to decode the implications.

Dante exhaled with the weariness of someone who’d been managing chaos since sunrise. It was the kind of sigh that belonged to a man who’d seen too many meetings go sideways. “Can someone ask… Ornella, if they really want to meet Mark?”

Jekyll’s gaze drifted to the far end of the table, where Ornella sat like a portrait—composed, symmetrical, and quietly formidable. Her posture was impeccable, hands folded just so, her eyes scanning the party with clinical precision. When her gaze landed on Vergilius, it lingered a beat too long. He met her eyes, and she looked away immediately, the motion subtle but telling.

Though Ornella’s expression remained pleasant, Jekyll caught the faintest flicker of unease beneath it. It was in the way her fingers tapped once against the table, then stilled. In the way her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Beside her, Alex sat stiffly, arms crossed, his demeanor colder than the room’s draft. Kuvira bobbed gently in her seat, humming a soft tune under her breath, the melody barely audible over the clinking of cutlery. Charon and Jatayu sat like statues—silent, unmoving—but Jatayu’s eyes roamed the room with quiet intensity, cataloging every gesture, every glance.

Lenore leaned forward, her voice gentle but clear. “Ornella, Dante wishes to know if you wish to meet Mark from our party.”

Ornella’s gaze had already shifted to Dante the moment he spoke, but the cadence of his words seemed to slip past her like water over glass. Her brow furrowed slightly, a faint crease forming between her eyes. She glanced at the bread in front of her—not with hunger, but as if searching for something grounded, something familiar. Her fingers brushed the crust absently, then stilled. “The way you’ve been discussing your comrade seems rather… unpleasant.”

The words hung in the air like frost. Lenore blinked, caught off guard. “I mean, we’ve not really said anything about him,” she replied, her tone defensive but polite, her hands folding tighter in her lap.

Across the table, Mallo opened her mouth, a retort already forming—but something in Ornella’s tone, or perhaps her gaze, made her clamp her lips shut. Her jaw flexed once before she leaned back, exhaling through her nose.

“I know a difficult coworker when I see one,” Ornella continued, her voice smooth but glacial. Jekyll could’ve sworn the scientist’s eyes shifted—just slightly—from a soft cornflower blue to something colder, sharper, like the edge of a glacier. The change was fleeting, but unmistakable. Ornella closed her eyes briefly, as if recalibrating, then reopened them with a composed smile. She nodded toward the end of the table. “Welcome back, Mallo.” Her hand gestured with elegant precision. “Please, help yourself to any of the food you see here.”

Mallo didn’t hesitate. She moved with the casual efficiency of someone used to navigating tension, scooping a generous portion of lamb onto her plate, followed by a thick slice of bread and a handful of crisp apple wedges. The scent of rosemary and roasted meat intensified as she passed, mingling with the faint trace of tobacco still clinging to her jacket.

“Just came back,” she said, glancing toward Dante with a raised brow. “Is Mark being a pain again?”

If Dante could’ve flattened his expression into a single, exhausted line, he would have. “Yep.”

“Want me to go grab him?”

“Yep.”

“Alright, I’ll be right back.” Mallo pushed herself away from the table, her chair scraping softly against the floor. She moved toward the door with purpose, her boots thudding lightly against the stone.

“Thank you, Mallo,” Dante called after her, his voice low but grateful.

Jekyll scoffed. Ain’t no way in hell he’s going to listen to her. 

“I sincerely apologize for his behavior,” Mallo added, pausing at the threshold. She offered Ornella a friendly smile—genuine, if a bit weary—and nodded gently. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t do that again.”

Ornella inclined her head in acknowledgment, but her expression remained unreadable. Her fingers resumed their quiet tapping against the table’s edge—rhythmic, slow, and deliberate, like a scientist measuring time by pulse alone. The sound was soft, almost imperceptible, yet it seemed to echo in Jekyll’s ears, a metronome to the quiet tension that had settled over the room.

Jekyll’s gaze drifted toward the door just as it creaked open, revealing Merlin. He stepped inside with the kind of presence that didn’t announce itself loudly, but still managed to shift the air. His coat was dusted with the faint sheen of travel, and his eyes—sharp, calculating—swept the room before landing squarely on Mallo.

A slight smirk tugged at Jekyll’s mouth. She watched the moment unfold like a scene in a play: Merlin’s eyes narrowing, his head tilting with quiet curiosity as Mallo approached the threshold. There was no warmth in his gaze—only scrutiny, the kind that made skin crawl if held too long.

Mallo paused mid-step, her body stiffening just slightly. “Uhh… hi,” she said, voice casual but clipped. “Limbus Company, talking with Ornella, just going out to get someone. Excuse me for a minute.” She nodded, ducking behind him with practiced ease, her shoulder brushing the doorframe as she slipped past. “If you don’t mind.”

Jekyll’s mind flickered with Hyde’s voice. Didn’t Mallo have history with the Middle? The question hung in her thoughts as she watched Merlin’s gaze linger on Mallo’s retreating form—not in confusion, not in recognition, but in something colder. His eyes didn’t follow her out of curiosity. They tracked her like a threat.

Merlin stood still for a moment longer, then inhaled deeply, as if bracing himself. His gaze shifted to Jekyll, and for a heartbeat, something unreadable passed between them. Then he turned to the rest of the group, his expression smoothing into something more formal. He extended a hand in greeting, fingers long and precise. “Good evening,” he said, voice calm and measured.

Ornella’s smile warmed instantly, her hand gesturing toward him with quiet pride. “Limbus Company, this is my nephew, Merlin.”

Huh. Small world, Jekyll mused, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“Good day,” Lenore replied, her tone dry enough to dehydrate the wine on the table.

Merlin adjusted his glasses with a studious flick, unbothered by the lukewarm reception. His posture remained impeccable, his demeanor composed—though Jekyll noticed the subtle tension in his shoulders, the way his eyes avoided one particular pair across the table. He was performing calmly, not living it. “Greetings,” he said, scanning the group. “You must be the infamous Limbus Company.” His tone was clipped, intelligent, and faintly condescending—like someone reciting a line they didn’t quite believe.

No one replied.

He flattened his expression, lips pressing into a thin line. “Hmmph. I expected more people.”

Lenore, ever the diplomat, offered a response. “We have three… four… we have a few people away from the table at the moment,” she said, counting off Mark, Mallo, and Boy with a glance toward the empty chairs.

Merlin turned his head slowly, giving Lenore a look that could’ve been carved from marble—cool, dismissive, and unmistakably hierarchical. You’re-clearly-not-the-one-in-charge-I-didn’t-ask-you. He didn’t speak the words, but they hung in the air like smoke.

Without another word, he made his way to the open seat beside Ornella and lowered himself into it with the same precision she had. His posture mirrored hers exactly—straight-backed, hands folded, chin lifted just enough to suggest superiority without arrogance.

Jekyll watched the two of them side by side, like matching chess pieces on opposite ends of the board. Ornella’s warmth was practiced; Merlin’s coldness was instinctive. And somewhere between them, the table held its breath.

Most of the party members broke the silence with the soft clatter of cutlery and the muted sounds of chewing. The table, once stiff with formality, began to breathe again—though quietly. Plates were filled with generous portions of lamb, its surface glistening with rendered fat and rosemary oil. The meat pulled apart easily beneath their knives, tender enough to suggest hours of slow roasting. Steam rose from the bread, which had been sliced into thick, uneven wedges—its golden crust crackling faintly, the inside airy and warm, flecked with herbs.

Raspberries sat in a bowl at the center, their color vivid against the muted tones of the meal. A few party members reached for them cautiously, the tartness offering a sharp contrast to the richness of the lamb. Apples, sliced thin and fanned out like petals, added a crisp sweetness that balanced the heavier flavors.

The room was quiet, save for the occasional murmur of appreciation.

“This lamb is incredibly tender,” Lenore said, dabbing her mouth with a napkin.

“The bread rose beautifully,” Kuvira added, her voice light as she reached for another slice. She continued to yap all sorts of compliments, but she did so quietly and no one paid attention to them.

“We appreciate your hospitality, Ornella. The food is sustainable,” Vergilius commented, his tone flat but sincere. It was the only compliment that drew a visible reaction from Ornella—her lips curled into a small, genuine smile.

Jekyll tasted the food with careful precision, her fork movements delicate, almost surgical. She chewed slowly, analyzing texture, seasoning, and presentation. The lamb, while passable, lacked the refinement she preferred. The bread was fluffy, yes, but uneven in its rise. The apples were fresh, but not chilled. The raspberries were the only thing that met her expectations.

Hmmph. Mr. Poole’s steak was of much higher quality than this lamb.

If there’s anything I miss about that wretched house, Hyde murmured, it’s that sorry butler’s cooking.

Jekyll didn’t respond aloud, but her grip on the fork tightened slightly.

Then, the door burst open.

Mallo staggered inside, her breath ragged, one hand clutching her chest as if trying to hold her lungs in place. “I’m… back,” she wheezed.

All eyes turned toward her. The warmth of the meal evaporated.

Dante leaned forward, concern etched into his features. “Are you okay, Mallo?”

Mallo straightened, still panting. “Well, Mark is fighting the Middle. The Middle is outside.”

Merlin choked on his food, a sharp cough breaking the silence. His aunt shot him a side glare so sharp it could’ve sliced through bone. He wiped his mouth quickly, trying to recover, but the damage was done.

Jekyll remained composed, her fork resting gently on the edge of her plate. Her mind began to turn, gears clicking into place. Merlin knew we were coming… and if Merlin is affiliated with the Middle, did they know Mallo had history with them? Did they even know Mallo had joined our company? Did he tell them to come look for her here?

“You mean to tell me the Middle is in the Outskirts?” Lenore raised an eyebrow, turning in her seat to face Mallo. “Here? Why? Manager? Vergilius?” She turned quickly to the two men on the sides of the table.

Vergilius gave a tired glare to the clockhead in the room. “Dante, this is your area of expertise.”

Dante blinked, then leaned forward. “Uhm… there didn’t happen to be a very large, very intimidating man with pink hair out there, was there?”

Mallo’s eyes widened. “No, thank goodness, no. No one with pink hair,” she said, standing straighter. Her voice trembled slightly.

Merlin choked again, this time on a piece of apple. He cleared his throat, trying to mask the reaction, but his fingers trembled as he adjusted his glasses. He bowed his head after his aunt shot him another deadly glance.

Mallo’s eyes narrowed. “Why… have you fought the Middle before?” Her voice cracked with fear.

Dante nodded solemnly. “Yeah. We have. In the Great Lakes.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?! Why would you do that?!”

“We didn’t mean to!” Dante raised his hands defensively. “One of our previous employees just… stole hair coupons.”

“Huh? You stole hair—”

“I didn’t!”

“Are they that petty?”

“It’s the Middle.”

“Okay, yes, uh, anyway,” Mallo stammered, trying to regain control of the conversation. “We need to deal with that. Outside.”

“Is Mark okay?” Lenore asked, her voice tight.

“I-I-I don’t know?” Mallo stammered, her voice pitching higher with each syllable. “I ran over here! I’m going to assume probably not!”

The room fell into a tense silence, the kind that clings to the walls like humidity. Dante turned to Lenore, his expression caught between concern and reluctant responsibility. “Can someone explain to Ornella? We might need to excuse ourselves from the table for a bit.”

Lenore nodded, her chair scraping softly against the floor as she stood. She turned to Ornella and translated Dante’s words with clipped efficiency. “We may need to step away. There’s a fight outside. We need to make sure Mark doesn’t die.”

Ornella didn’t flinch. Her fingers, which had been tapping rhythmically against the table’s edge, stilled mid-motion. Her eyes followed Lenore’s movements with quiet calculation.

Mallo let out a nervous laugh, the sound brittle and misplaced. “I apologize profusely, this is… a lot.” Her voice cracked under the weight of urgency. “Uhm, f-follow me.”

She reached out and grabbed Dante’s sleeve, dragging him around the table with a surprising burst of strength. Dante let out a loud train horn noise as he stumbled to his feet, nearly knocking over his chair in the process. His boots squeaked against the floor as he scrambled to keep up.

Mallo didn’t wait. She bolted for the door, her footsteps echoing down the hallway like a warning bell. Lenore rose with quiet resolve and followed, her coat swaying behind her like a shadow. Alex trailed after them in a daze, his eyes unfocused, as if still trying to process the sudden shift from dinner to danger.

The door slammed shut behind them.

Ornella’s gaze lingered on the empty doorway, her expression unreadable. Slowly, she turned back to the remaining guests—Vergilius, Charon, Kuvira, Jekyll, and Jatayu. Her smile had vanished, replaced by something colder. Her voice, once warm and welcoming, now carried a sharper edge.

“It seems nothing has changed since I left.” The words hung in the air like smoke.

Vergilius didn’t respond immediately. He simply adjusted his posture, folding his hands neatly in front of him as if bracing for a lecture. His expression remained unreadable, but the slight tightening of his jaw betrayed a flicker of irritation. Charon tilted her head, watching Ornella with quiet curiosity, her gaze sharp beneath the brim of her hat. Kuvira’s eyes narrowed slightly, her fingers curling around the stem of her glass as she sensed the shift in tone. Her eyes darted from side to side, as if she was still stuck on something that was said. Jekyll remained composed, her fork resting untouched beside her plate, though her shoulders had stiffened. Jatayu leaned back in his chair, hands twitching faintly, the feathers on his cape rustling like dry leaves.

Ornella’s gaze shifted to Merlin.

He had lost all semblance of composure, sinking into his seat like a deflating balloon. His shoulders hunched, his hands fidgeted, and his eyes darted toward the floor as if searching for an escape hatch. He rubbed his face, pushing his glasses up to rub his eyes with the heel of his palm—an expression of pure mortification, as though Ornella had just shown his crush a baby photo of him in a duck costume.

She inhaled sharply, nostrils flaring. “I know why you all are here,” she said, her voice clipped and cool, “but it seems your main negotiator has left.”

Her eyes flicked toward the door, then back to the table.

“Let’s take a slight break to ease the tension, yeah?” Her tone was deceptively casual, but the steel beneath it was unmistakable. “I’d like to speak to my nephew in… private for a few moments.”

Without waiting for permission, her hand swung behind Merlin’s head and slapped it upward with a practiced flick. The sound was sharp, but Merlin barely flinched. His reaction was not one of surprise, but resignation. It was clear there was more going on than they were letting on.

Ornella rose to her feet, her movements fluid and commanding. Merlin followed swiftly, head bowed, shoulders tight. They both turned toward the party and offered a curt bow—more out of obligation than respect—before disappearing into the kitchen.

The door didn’t close all the way.

Faint shouting could be heard.

Jekyll exhaled slowly and relaxed her posture, her fingers drumming against the table. She grumbled under her breath, her voice low and bitter. Well, ain’t this going so swimmingly. We had one diplomatic mission to complete, and we can’t even get to the point before the party is off fighting again.

Hyde was not amused. Everything was fine before everyone insisted on bringing that prisoner bastard here. We wouldn’t be worrying about a thing, and this meeting would be over already. Can’t we just kill the scientist and grab the bough?

No, Jekyll snapped internally. We don’t even know where it is!

It shouldn’t be that hard to find.

Let’s not make any more enemies than we need to, Jekyll thought, trying to steady herself. Surely, if we can all just sit down and talk, she will hand it over to us willingly…

But even she didn’t fully believe that.

The shouting in the kitchen grew louder, punctuated by the clatter of metal and the hiss of boiling water. Ornella’s voice was sharp and commanding. Merlin’s was muffled, defensive.

Charon leaned slightly toward Vergilius. “Do we intervene?”

Vergilius didn’t look away from the door. “No, this is a matter that doesn’t concern us.”

Jatayu’s hands twitched again, more agitated this time. His hands had stilled, but his fingers tapped against the table in a slow, uneven rhythm. Kuvira sipped her drink with deliberate calm, her eyes never leaving the kitchen door. The glass in her hand caught the light, casting a faint shimmer across her necklace and eyes.

After what felt like an eternity of muffled shouting and strained silence, the door creaked open again. Mallo, Lenore, Dante, and Alex returned to the table, their postures small and subdued. Their footsteps were hesitant, as if they feared disturbing the fragile tension that had settled over the room like dust.

“We’re back,” Mallo mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. “We uh… yeah, we’re back. Apologies for the inconvenience—” She cut herself off mid-sentence, her eyes scanning the table. Her brow furrowed as she noticed the missing figures. Lenore opened her mouth to talk, but Mallo kept speaking, her words tumbling out faster than her thoughts. “Where did… Ornella go?”

Vergilius heaved a sigh, the sound heavy and deliberate. He turned back to the table, his gaze sharp. “You just missed them. The moment you started dragging your manager out of the house, she took her nephew to the side.” He cast a quick glance toward the kitchen. “They’re in there.”

Mallo’s eyes flicked toward the kitchen entrance. She watched the rest of her comrades settle back into their seats, then quietly moved closer to the doorway, her steps light and cautious. She leaned slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of the conversation unfolding beyond the threshold.

The rest of the table remained silent, ears straining to catch any fragments of the argument. Even Jatayu had stopped tapping, his arms drawn close to his back. Jekyll watched Mallo’s movements carefully, noting how she hovered near the first kitchen entrance, just close enough to hear—but not close enough to be seen.

Jekyll herself could barely make out the words, but the tone was unmistakable.

“I told you not to bring your friends! We talked about this!” Ornella hissed, her voice sharp and furious.

Merlin’s reply was more hushed, laced with paranoia. “They needed more boats. I cannot turn down their offer now!”

“Limbus Company doesn’t like the Middle! They have a terrible reputation! I told you not to get involved with them!”

“You asked for protection over our city since your stupid company wanted our one source of defense from the outside! I delivered!”

The words were jagged, overlapping, each sentence more desperate than the last.

Jekyll leaned in slightly, trying to catch more—but Lenore’s voice cut through the tension like a blade.

“All of you, very briefly,” she said, her tone hushed but firm. “We have reason to suspect Merlin is working for the Middle, who attacked Mark and is looking for Mallo.”

Jekyll’s focus snapped back to the table, her jaw tightening. The rest of the conversation in the kitchen faded into background noise.

Hyde stirred violently in her mind, voice seething. Lenore, mark my words—I WILL put your head on a stick if—

“Him working for the Middle?” Jatayu asked, his voice quiet, almost contemplative. “Why?”

Before anyone could answer, the shouting in the kitchen stopped abruptly. A moment later, Merlin burst out of the room, his footsteps loud and uneven. His face was flushed, his braided locks disheveled as he ran a hand through them in frustration. His eyes were wild, unfocused, and he didn’t notice Mallo ducking behind a nearby wall to avoid being seen.

She pressed herself against the wood, breath shallow, eyes darting toward the floor and then back to the party. Without a word, she slipped out the door behind Merlin, her movements quick and quiet.

Ornella emerged moments later, rubbing her eyes beneath her glasses with the heel of her palm. Her shoulders sagged, no longer held with the quiet dignity she usually wore like armor. The regal bearing that once defined her presence had eroded into something more human—more tired. Her steps were slow, deliberate, as if each one carried the weight of a conversation she wished hadn’t happened.

She returned to the table with a quiet sigh, lowering herself into her seat like someone who had just come in from a storm. Her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her sleeve before she folded her hands neatly in front of her.

“I apologize,” she said, voice low but steady. “Just as you have had interruptions, I hope you can excuse mine.”

Lenore didn’t wait. Her elbows were already on the table, fingers laced, eyes sharp. “I am eager to inquire,” she said, her tone clipped and direct. “Why are the Middle in your town?”

Ornella blinked slowly, as if the question had been expected but still landed with impact. She glanced down at the half-eaten food on her plate, untouched since the tension began. Her breath came out in a long, deliberate exhale.

“They’re not… supposed to be here,” she said, her voice tinged with frustration. “They shouldn’t be here. It seems they’ve gotten too comfortable with our hospitality.”

Lenore leaned forward slightly, her brow furrowing. “Then why are you being hospitable to the Middle of all people?”

Jekyll’s eyes narrowed, her gaze flicking toward Lenore with quiet disdain. What kind of stupid question is that? she thought, biting back the urge to speak aloud. You’d be a fool to turn down any hospitality to a Finger if they showed up at your door.

Ornella tilted her head, her long curly hair cascading over one shoulder like a curtain. Her expression was unreadable—somewhere between resignation and quiet defiance.

“Not me necessarily,” she said. “Most of the inhabitants of the city don’t pay attention to the miscrits of the city. When they first arrived in the ruins of Z Corp, they asked only for engineering skills. We welcomed them with open arms—there was a large sum of money behind the job offer, and we were desperate.” Her voice grew quieter, more introspective. “But now they show up more than frequently. They linger. They watch. I’ve been one of the few who’ve ventured into the city proper, and I, along with Merlin, know who they are. Convincing the rest of the town has not proven to be easy.”

Lenore’s fingers tapped against her chin as she fell into thought. Her gaze drifted, unfocused for a moment, before snapping back to Ornella. “Interesting,” she murmured. “Do you… hmm…” She paused, her words trailing off as she searched for the right phrasing. “Do you happen to know why they might be interested in us, particularly? I assume one of our own getting into a scuffle with them is not an accident in this scenario.”

Ornella hesitated. For the first time, her composure cracked. Her lips parted, but no words came immediately. She looked down at her hands, now clenched together tightly.

“I… I don’t,” she stammered, her voice thinner than before. “I’ve heard of scandals and trouble between the Middle and Limbus Company when I was employed with you all. Things that might not have been resolved to my knowledge. But I’m truly unaware of why they would be upset with any of you.”

Lenore nodded slowly, her eyes scanning Ornella’s face for any sign of withheld truth. Then she glanced at the empty seat beside her. “Is Merlin not going to be joining us?”

Ornella’s hands tightened further, her knuckles paling. Her voice faltered. “N-No,” she said, barely above a whisper. “Merlin will not be joining us for the rest of the negotiation. I apologize…” Her gaze dropped again, and for a moment, she looked almost fragile—like someone who had just lost a battle she hadn’t wanted to fight.

Lenore shifted in her seat, biting her tongue as if regretting her next words even before they left her mouth. “Well, I assume you two were hashing it out and uh…” She winced slightly. “Mark was fighting some of the Middle members, and I fear one of them might have escaped with information about the company. But that’s just my own speculation.” She leaned back, then forward again, adjusting her chair with a soft scrape against the floor. Her eyes swept across the rest of the party before settling back on Ornella. “That being said,” she said, her tone more formal now, “is there anything else you’d like to discuss before we get to the matter at hand?”

Ornella didn’t answer immediately. Her gaze lingered on the table, on the empty seat, on the door Merlin had stormed through. Then she looked up, her expression unreadable once more.

The room held its breath.

“Well, I was hoping to hear how some of your ventures had fared,” Ornella began in the friendly tone she greeted them with earlier. “...and how things are going regarding you and your coworkers…” She paused again, tilting her head back to look at the ceiling before continuing. “It sounds rather silly, but… if I can know that Limbus Company is doing better in terms of… uhm… teamwork, perhaps it would be easier for me to move on… and leave grudges behind.” She glanced at Dante. “I also slightly miss working for the company, it was fun seeing the world…” 

Dante gave a slight nod. “It… I wish things could have been different. It’s nostalgic to see you again.” When she did not reply, the manager started to stammer over his words. “Wait, wait, I forgot you can’t hear me, uh—” 

“The manager says that he wishes things were different, and it is somewhat nostalgic to be meeting you again,” Lenore translated. 

Ornella nodded slowly. “Yes, it has… been a bit.” 

“Wasn’t the LCB-2 a failure?” Hyde blurted out of Jekyll’s mouth.

The party turned to look at her, and she clapped her hand over her mouth. Hyde, shut up, not now! Jekyll cleared her throat, but curiosity got the better of her. “Forgive me for intruding on the topic, but… how could you miss it if it wasn’t great?” 

Charon gently asked Lenore for her apple on the side as Ornella shifted her icy gaze to Jekyll. “Ah, the LCB-2 primarily failed due to the incompetence and inability of the subordinates to control their dangerous, boastful, and destructive behaviors, and the failure of the managers to keep them in line,” she glanced at Dante. “There was more in-fighting and deaths caused by the co-workers than the actual combat of the enemies; it was difficult to work cooperatively with co-workers I couldn’t trust and would kill me over an enemy.” She flattened her face. “This led to strained relationships and incidents like killing co-workers, which was done to me many times, cost us the golden bough more than once, and we failed to capture it due to the inability to wrangle in some member’s emotional outbursts.” 

Hah, like how Dante can’t control Mark or Mallo, Hyde scoffed, crossing her arms. So he really hasn’t gotten better. 

“Yeah, I think I know who she’s talking about,” Dante sighed. 

Ornella glanced at Jatayu, who immediately sat up in his seat and cleared his throat. “Oh, uh, the manager was talking about knowing who you mean.” He glanced to the side and leaned on the armrest of his chair, his hand strangely stroking his beard as if he didn’t wish to remember what he was thinking. 

Wasn’t the veteran part of the LCB-2 too? Jekyll glanced at Jatayu. I thought he would be… more excited to see her. 

Maybe he was one of the few who stabbed her in the back, Hyde shrugged. Can’t blame him. 

“I assume you know as well, Jatayu,” Ornella eyed him carefully before glancing at the rest of the group. “If I were to offer any unsolicited advice, or part some words of wisdom, although it is good to hear out your employees,” she glanced at Dante again, her friendly tone demolished. “You also have to keep them chained down. You can’t let them take a mile when you only give an inch. You’ve seen the consequences of that, Dante. I hope you understand that when you let that happen, the mission fails.” 

The manager put his hands together and simply nodded before glancing to the floor. 

I still can’t believe we chose to serve under this wimp; he can’t even defend himself, Hyde scolded. 

“I might need to be a bit more strict,” Dante muttered, half to himself.

Ornella, who had been observing the party with a wistful gaze in between her lines, seemed momentarily caught between nostalgia and disappointment. There was a flicker in her eyes—perhaps the desire to share more stories from her time with the company, or to hear the tales of the current party’s exploits. But the restlessness around the table was palpable. Shoulders shifted. Eyes wandered. The warmth of the earlier meal had long since cooled.

She frowned and sat back in her seat, her posture losing its usual precision. Her spine curved slightly, and her hands folded in front of her, fingers interlaced with quiet tension.

“Does anyone else have any other questions before we get to the matter at hand?” she asked, her voice calm but clipped. Her gaze dropped to the floor. “...I know you are all here for the golden bough, but I wanted to ensure we covered all foundational content first. Context matters.”

“Understandable,” Lenore replied, ever the first to speak. She leaned forward, elbows on the table, fingers steepled. “Roughly speaking—and slightly related to the topic at hand—what are you doing out here in the outskirts?”

To the surprise of most at the table, Vergilius stirred. He turned his head toward Ornella, his voice low and deliberate. “I would also like to back up that question.”

Ornella’s eyes met Vergilius’s, bypassing Lenore entirely. There was a flicker of recognition there, perhaps even respect. She glanced around her home—the worn walls, the flickering lights, the quiet hum of the facility beneath their feet. Her lips curled into a sad smile.

“This is my home,” she said softly. “Where I was raised. Where my family lived. Where I watched them die. And where I watched Z Corp collapse into ash.” Her voice remained steady, but her eyes glazed slightly, as if replaying memories too vivid to ignore. “I remain here because I believe in restoration. In preservation. The survivors of the Smoke War—those who weren’t consumed by it—deserve more than abandonment. They deserve structure. Safety. Continuity. I’ve spent the last decade trying to rebuild what little society we have left.”

Kuvira shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her fingers tightening around her cup. Jekyll raised an eyebrow, noting the reaction but saying nothing.

“It’s not a place I can simply leave,” Ornella continued, her tone growing firmer. “To move to the city would be to abandon the very people who endured alongside me. We’ve built something here—not perfect, not polished, but functional. And I intend to protect it.”

Lenore tilted her head, unsatisfied. “More specifically, besides building a town, what exactly are you doing here? I might be naive in my knowledge, but it sounds like it will fail catastrophically for all those involved.”

Ornella didn’t flinch. She folded her hands more tightly, her voice sharpening with precision. “We’re conducting infrastructural stabilization. Energy redistribution. Environmental monitoring. We’ve repurposed remnants of Z Corp’s facilities to generate power and maintain basic sanitation. My team—what remains of it—handles everything from monster deterrence to medical triage. It’s not glamorous, but it’s necessary.” She paused, then added, “And yes, we fight. Everyone here is trained in some form of combat. The monsters on the outskirts don’t wait for diplomacy.”

“This facility you mention,” Lenore said, “I assume that’s where you’re making current use of your golden bough?”

“That is correct,” Ornella replied. “The golden bough is our primary source of protection. It stabilizes the perimeter and suppresses abnormality surges. Without it, we’d be exposed.”

“I’m no scientist,” Lenore said, “but I know the boughs suppress abnormalities. Do they suppress the monsters here in the outskirts as well?”

Ornella tapped her fingers against the table, her gaze drifting to the side as if a new thought had struck her. “Huh. I hadn’t considered that. To my knowledge, the suppression field is tuned to abnormalities specifically. But your suggestion is… intriguing. I’ll have to run a few tests.”

“I mean more—what do you do to take care of the normal monsters that you face out here?”

“It’s mostly direct engagement,” Ornella said. “We’ve developed rudimentary alert systems, and our patrols rotate nightly. It’s not elegant, but it’s effective. We’ve lost fewer people this year than last.”

A heavy silence settled over the table.

Then Ornella clapped her hands once, the sound crisp and final. She stood, her posture regaining its former strength. “Well,” she said, “this has been lovely. I’ve enjoyed seeing all of your faces again, and I appreciate your time in meeting with me—even if it’s through contractual obligation.” She glanced at each of them, her eyes lingering on Jekyll and Vergilius. “This would be a good time to discuss the golden bough. I was informed by the higher-ups—those who dismissed me—that your group would be coming to retrieve it. They asked what I would wish for in return.” Her voice grew quieter. “I was reluctant. The company fractured my career. It fractured my mind. I couldn’t bring myself to give it freely—not after everything.” She looked toward the window, where the outskirts stretched into shadow. “And it’s difficult to justify giving it away. It’s our main source of protection. But I do have a contingency plan. That said… my concern remains.” She turned back to the table, her expression unreadable. “I need to know that what you take won’t leave us exposed.”

Jatayu rose from his seat, his movements deliberate. He cleared his throat, the sound echoing slightly in the quiet room.

“I’m curious what your backup plan is, Ms. Ornella,” he said, voice steady but edged with concern.

Ornella hesitated. Her lips parted, then closed again. For a moment, she seemed to wrestle with the words, as if they tasted bitter before they could be spoken.

“Merlin claims he’s found… allies,” she said finally, her tone clipped. “Individuals who could replicate the bough’s protective function. I remain unconvinced. The science is untested, the ethics questionable. But it seems Limbus Company won’t stop at a diplomatic mission. If I refuse, they’ll escalate.”

She looked down at her hands, fingers twitching slightly.

“I know what it took to acquire golden boughs during my tenure with the company. The sacrifices. The casualties. The sheer volatility of the process. I doubt the higher-ups will simply accept my refusal. And the last thing I want is for a corporation of that scale to turn its gaze on my people.”

A heavy silence settled over the room.

Then Ornella leaned forward, her chair creaking softly beneath her. Her eyes swept across the party, her voice low but resolute. “I will give you the golden bough,” she said, each word deliberate, slicing through the tension like a scalpel. “But I ask—no, I require—that you use it wisely. And that some form of exchange be made. Protection. Knowledge. Infrastructure. Something to prevent abnormality breaches or monster attacks once our primary defense is gone.”

The party visibly relaxed, though the weight of her request lingered in the air.

Lenore, ever analytical, leaned in. “You mentioned extracting energy from your facility. Is that energy drawn directly from the golden bough?”

Ornella shook her head. “No. The bough is purely defensive—its suppression field stabilizes the perimeter, but it’s not a power source. Our energy comes from three contained abnormalities housed in our facility. It’s a repurposed structure—off-brand, modeled loosely after the original Lobotomy Corporation framework.”

Lenore blinked. “I wasn’t aware a Lobotomy Corporation facility existed out here. Let alone one still operational.”

“It didn’t,” Ornella replied. “Not officially. But remnants of the old infrastructure remained. Between my nephew and me, we reverse-engineered enough of the containment protocols to build something functional. Crude, but effective.”

“Ornella used to work in L Corp, as did Mallo.” Dante nodded. “It could be reconstructed. The knowledge base exists.”

“So,” Lenore said slowly, “do we have that technology in our company?”

“In the LCE,” Dante confirmed. 

Ornella folded her arms, her expression unreadable. Her gaze drifted toward the far wall, where a faint hum from the facility’s containment systems pulsed like a heartbeat beneath the floorboards.

“It’s a delicate balance,” she said, voice low but firm. “The abnormalities provide energy, yes—but they’re volatile. We monitor them constantly. One breach, and the entire system collapses. The suppression field from the golden bough helps stabilize them, but it’s not a perfect solution.”

Lenore tilted her head, intrigued. “I hope to look into one of them someday,” she said with a casual shrug. “Sounds like a very interesting world to explore.”

Then she turned her gaze back to Ornella, her tone shifting to something more formal. “In short, Ms. Ornella, you’re saying you’ll hand us the golden bough? Is there anything we can give you in return for this exchange? Because you don’t want to cause poor will between yourself and the company, if I understood you correctly. Such negative consequences can follow if we do not reach an agreement.”

Ornella blinked slowly, her expression mirroring the one Jekyll wore—equal parts disbelief and fatigue. Jekyll rubbed her eye, trying not to fall asleep in the middle of what felt like a roundabout negotiation loop. She just asked for another form of protection, Jekyll thought, resisting the urge to groan.

“It feels wrong just taking it,” Jatayu added, his voice quiet. “Especially without doing anything to assist.”

Wow, no one here listens. Hyde muttered, echoing Jekyll’s thoughts with a sharper edge.

Ornella, however, remained composed. Her patience, honed by years of scientific rigor and bureaucratic nonsense, held firm. “All I ask,” she said, “is an exchange of information. On abnormalities—their suppression, their energy output, their behavioral patterns. I want access to research, containment protocols, and any advancements your company has made in using them for protection. Efficiency is key. If there’s a way to extract energy more safely, I want to know it.” She paused, then added, “And yes, a financial sum would be appreciated. Not for me, but for the protection and sustainability of my community. We’re not asking for luxury. We’re asking for survival.”

Lenore nodded slowly, her fingers tapping against the table. “I’m not sure if I—or even the manager—can make agreements on behalf of the company. But to me, that sounds reasonable.”

“Agreed,” Dante said, adjusting his coat. “I figured that since the company sent us here to be diplomatic, we could take some charge in that direction.”

A beat passed. No one moved to translate.

Jekyll sighed and stood, brushing off her coat with a flick of her wrist. “Uh, the manager said he doesn’t see why it would be a problem,” she said, voice dry.

Ornella nodded slowly, her eyes scanning the room. “Very well,” she said. “When can I expect this transaction to occur?” She leaned forward slightly, her tone sharpening. “I’d prefer it be written. On paper. With signatures. I want something to reference if Limbus Company decides to pull a quick one on me.” Her gaze lingered on Dante, then Vergilius, then Lenore—measuring each of them. “I’ve seen what happens when promises are made without documentation. I won’t let my town be another casualty of corporate ambiguity.”

Kuvira sunk into her seat even more, her shoulders folding inward as she rubbed her face with both hands. The usual spark in her demeanor—her cheerful tone, her chatty rhythm—had vanished entirely. Jekyll couldn’t recall a single word from her since the meeting began. What is up with her? she wondered, watching Kuvira’s silence stretch longer than expected.

Vergilius shifted slightly, turning to face Ornella again. His expression softened, the usual stoicism giving way to something gentler. Ornella’s eyes caught the white star pendant resting against the color fixer’s chest, and her lips curved into a quiet smile. By the look in her eyes, it was clear she had given it to him once, and seeing him wear it now brought her a flicker of joy.

The color fixer spoke softly, his voice barely louder than the hum of the facility beneath them. “I suppose we can issue manual reports and documents,” he began. “We can have them printed out as all the files go through me before leaving for other departments. I’m positive that I have copies for you.”

“Very well,” Ornella nodded gently, her tone composed. She paused, her gaze drifting across the table. “Slightly unrelated topic, have you guys received the letters that I have sent?”

Vergilius didn’t respond immediately, but a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. His eyes dropped to the pendant once more, and Ornella seemed to take that as her answer.

“I trust that Limbus Company will give me what I ask for in exchange for the golden bough,” she said sweetly, her voice dipping into a hushed tone.

Dante nodded and turned toward Jatayu to translate for him. The winged man stroked his beard thoughtfully. “The manager did say he received many of your letters, as well as I have,” he said. “Have you received our—I mean mine?”

“Indeed, I have,” Ornella replied, her voice steady. “It took quite a few months, but eventually we were able to find the mailman at the edge of the border to receive the letters.”

She stood from her seat with quiet grace, her coat falling neatly around her legs. “Is there any other discussion topics before I fetch what you are seeking?”

“It should be mentioned that sinner number eighteen has received many of your letters as well, though it is unnecessary information,” Vergilius added, his voice as calm as ever.

Ornella’s smile brightened for a moment before her eyes grew solemn. “I really hope Ithas is doing alright. Out of all of the coworkers, he was the most… competent one, yet the least free.”

She stepped away from the table and headed toward the door of her abode, her footsteps light but purposeful. “Please help yourself to any of the food left on the table. I shall fetch the golden bough. If you wish to see my facility, you may follow me.” Her gaze hardened briefly as she turned back. “Although I recommend not touching anything.”

Jekyll immediately rose from her seat, her curiosity piqued. She followed the scientist closely, her steps quick and eager. Despite their differences in scientific fields, she would never pass up the opportunity to observe someone else’s work firsthand.

“Should be interesting,” Lenore said, rising from her seat with Dante. They exchanged a glance before trailing behind. “Though I assume there would be no containment breaches?”

“Yes, so long as nothing is touched or disturbed, nothing shall go wrong,” Ornella answered, her voice firm.

Kuvira remained in her seat, her eyes distant, unfocused. Her posture was rigid, arms folded tightly across her chest as if bracing against a memory. She didn’t move, didn’t speak, didn’t even glance toward the door. It wasn’t disinterest—it was something heavier, something rooted deep. As if she had no desire to enter that kind of facility ever again. The others didn’t press her. Her silence spoke louder than any refusal.

The rest of the party slowly followed Ornella down a winding stone staircase, the cool night air brushing against their skin like a whisper. The steps were uneven, worn smooth by time, and the descent felt longer than it was—each echoing footfall swallowed by the underground. The facility they entered was starkly different from the last: compact, quiet, almost intimate in its design. Just one hallway stretched ahead, flanked by three sealed rooms. Each door bore a stand with basic information etched into metal plaques, their surfaces slightly frosted from the chill.

Jekyll leaned in to read them, her breath fogging faintly in the air. One room housed a literal eye—HE level—that wished to see all. Its description was clinical, but the implication was unsettling. Another contained a motherly bird—WAW level—whose instinct to protect her young was so strong it bordered on obsession. The final room held an ALEPH-class abnormality, deceptively benign in its craving: it only wanted to eat raspberries. Suppressing it hinged entirely on satisfying that desire. Huh , Jekyll mused, no wonder they had so many of that fruit around here.

The facility itself was bathed in a muted shade of blue. The lighting was soft, almost serene, casting long shadows that danced gently across the floor. Tinted observation windows lined the hallway, allowing the party to glimpse the abnormalities within. Most were asleep, their forms barely stirring—except for the eye, which remained open, unblinking, and eerily aware despite its containment.

Ornella approached the control panel on the left wall, her fingers moving with practiced precision. A series of soft beeps followed as she pressed a few buttons, and a hatch slid open with a low mechanical hum. Inside, nestled in a cradle of reinforced glass, lay the golden bough. It was smaller than the previous one they had collected—delicate, almost fragile in appearance. Ornella reached in and lifted it from its throne with reverence.

As she did, a sudden power surge rippled through the facility. The lights flickered once, casting brief shadows that danced across the walls. A deep, resonant hum filled the air, vibrating through the floor and into their bones. Outside, the protective force field surrounding the town activated with a low roar, folding in on itself like a closing curtain. The sound echoed through the underground chamber, final and absolute—like the sealing of a chapter.

Ornella turned and handed the sliver of the bough to Dante, her fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary. Lenore, watching the exchange, spoke again. “Didn’t these facilities power entire cities long ago?”

“Yes,” Ornella nodded, her voice steady but her eyes betraying unease. “We don’t need as much energy as normal cities do.” Her worried expression couldn’t be hidden, not now, not as she gave away the main source of protection for her town to the manager who had once betrayed her. Her lips pressed together, the weight of her decision settling visibly across her shoulders.

This level of forgiveness is foolish, Hyde rolled her eyes in Jekyll’s mind, her voice sharp and unimpressed. It is clear Dante hasn’t changed. Is she dumb enough to give him this chance?

We can discuss this later, Hyde , Jekyll replied inwardly, her thoughts tight and conflicted.

Ornella took a deep breath, her chest rising slowly. The ice on her hands shifted faintly as she exhaled, fracturing into delicate patterns that shimmered under the soft blue light. “I hope you all achieve your greatest desires. You deserve it.”

“Thank you,” Lenore replied, her tone gentle. “Hope things go well for you as well.”

Jekyll stammered, trying to push past Hyde’s commentary and find her own voice. “It was nice meeting you,” she managed, her words sincere despite their awkwardness.

Ornella nodded in thanks before stepping aside, clearing the path for them. “You’re free to stay as long as you like, or if you need to leave immediately, I will not stop you. Be careful on your way out. With the golden bough removed, there may or may not be a fluctuation of monsters that will come to swarm you. Try to use it for protection if you can.”

Alex approached Ornella quietly, his presence calm and grounding. He rested a hand on her shoulder, the gesture simple but full of meaning. “For what it’s worth, I hope you achieve all of your goals.” He smiled softly, and it was the kind of smile that carried no expectation—just hope.

The scientist returned that smile, her eyes brightening with genuine warmth. She looked at the group, her gaze lingering on each of them. “Thank you. Thank you for coming to meet and negotiate with me. It has meant a lot, and I wish you all the best of luck.”

“Thank you, Ornella,” Dante said, his voice solemn, the ticking in his speech slower now, wearier. “I know you can’t hear me right now, but… this means… a lot. It was nice to see an old friend. And… again, I’m sorry for the past.”

Lenore relayed Dante’s words to Ornella with care.

“All is forgiven, Dante.” Ornella smiled warmly, her posture softening as she clasped her hands in front of her. Her head tilted slightly to the side, a gesture of quiet affection. “Thankfully, I’ve… learned to get past the mistakes of others, as people have learned to forgive mine. You are always welcome here. Thank you for always believing in me.”

The party went silent for a moment, the air thick with emotion and unspoken memories. Then, with a light nod, the manager raised the bough to his head to resonate. The room held its breath.

And… it did not resonate with anyone around.

Which meant the bough would go straight to the headquarters.

A collective sigh passed through the group, quiet and resigned. They began gathering their belongings with slow, deliberate movements, the weight of the mission settling in their limbs. No one spoke much as they exited the facility, their footsteps echoing softly against the stone. The night air greeted them with a chill as they made their way back to the bus parked outside the ruins of Z Corp.

Kuvira lingered for a moment, her eyes scanning the remnants of the place. Her gaze was long, unreadable, as if trying to make peace with something she couldn’t name. Then she turned and followed the rest of the party, her steps quiet.

That left Jekyll, Ornella, and Vergilius in the facility.

The scientist glanced back at the Red Gaze with shaky eyes, her posture tense, her fingers twitching slightly at her sides. She looked as though she were assembling her words piece by piece, afraid they might fall apart mid-sentence.

“T-Thank you for coming all the way out here, Vergilius,” she began, rubbing her neck awkwardly and staring at the floor. “I know you probably didn’t have to come with the party, but you did and… I appreciated that.”

Jekyll, still inside, watched the exchange from the corner of her eye. She had never seen a man’s eyes soften faster than Vergilius’s did when he looked at Ornella to respond.

“In reality, I never had a choice,” he said, his voice quiet. “Faust made it a requirement that I come with…” He paused, adjusting the white star pendant on his shirt. “...But I’m glad I did come.”

Ornella smiled again, her gaze lifting. She pointed at the pendant, her voice gentler. “You’re wearing it. I was… pleasantly surprised to see that.”

Jekyll began to move toward the door, careful not to draw attention to herself. She didn’t want to look like she was eavesdropping, though she lingered just outside, her back to the wall. Hyde, ever impatient, was already planning a route to bolt the moment the guide emerged. Jekyll could only hear their voices now, muffled but clear enough.

There was a pause before Vergilius spoke again. “Charon liked how it shone. I suppose I chose to wear it for more than one person. The gift was… very thoughtful of you.”

Another long silence followed, filled only by the faint hum of the facility’s systems.

“I don’t wish to keep you away from your party,” Ornella said softly. “But… know that you’re always welcome here. I hope you come visit again, or maybe… We’ll cross paths in the city by some string of fate.”

Vergilius gave a soft chuckle, the sound light and rare. “Your hospitality has been much appreciated, Ms. Ornella.”

“If you end up leaving Limbus Company, you will always have a place here.”

The figure would solemnly lift his head, peering around the facility, the open sky in the cracks beaming with twinkling stars, yet none quite as bright as the one adorned upon his breast. “The Outskirts are... less than an ideal place... however,” With a face vacant of hatred or scorn, instead filled with the sentimental curve of a softly made smile, he spoke. “Perhaps... if Charon wishes to see the stars, so too shall I.”

“...Stay safe out there, Verg. Thank you again.”

Jekyll assumed the next shuffling sound was them hugging each other. She didn’t look back. Hyde nudged her mentally, urging her to move before the Red Gaze stepped outside.

She quickly shuffled her way up the staircase, down the street, past Ornella’s house, past the café, and into the bus—just in time to avoid being spotted.

Well, that was disgusting . Hyde barfed internally.

They didn’t talk about anything important, she added, thoroughly unimpressed.

Everyone, including Mark and Mallo, was seated in the bus, the hum of the engine a low, steady backdrop to the quiet shuffle of bodies settling in. The air inside was warm, dimly lit by the soft glow of overhead lights and the flickering screen of a movie playing near the front.

Kuvira sat by the window, her chin resting on her hand, eyes fixed on the distant silhouette of the Z Corp ruins. Her gaze was unreadable—somewhere between mourning and reflection—as the landscape rolled past in slow motion. She hadn’t spoken since they boarded, and no one had pressed her to.

Near the middle row, Faust had dozed off, her head gently tilted against Mark’s shoulder. He didn’t seem to mind. His eyes remained fixed on the screen, watching the movie with a kind of detached interest, one hand absentmindedly scrolling through a tablet on his lap. The film’s dialogue murmured softly, half-lost beneath the hum of the road and the occasional creak of the bus frame.

Mallo was curled up in her seat with a notepad, scribbling something abstract and chaotic—lines that looked like they might be notes and charts, or maybe just feelings. Her handwriting was erratic, looping and sharp, as if trying to pin down a thought that refused to sit still. Occasionally, she glanced up at the screen, then back down, her brow furrowed, as if trying to capture a mood rather than a scene.

In front of her, Charon flipped through a worn paperback, her eyes scanning the faded text with quiet focus. After a few pages, she closed the book with a soft thump, set it aside, and placed her hands on the wheel. The bus gave a low groan as it stirred to life, headlights cutting through the dusk as they began to roll forward.

Eventually, Vergilius made his way onto the bus—the last to board. His expression was solemn, his steps deliberate. He paused near the front, casting a glance toward the screen before launching into a curt critique of the unauthorized television setup. His tone was dry, bordering on disdain. Mark, caught off guard, tried to shift the blame onto anyone else, gesturing vaguely toward Mallo and even Dante. The conversation was awkward, punctuated by half-hearted excuses and Vergilius’s unimpressed silence.

Jatayu stood nearby, his posture steady but thoughtful. He approached Dante, who sat with his hands folded, the soft flicker of flame atop his head casting faint shadows on the ceiling.

“Do you think Limbus Company would mind if I made a phone call to some friends in P Corp?” the veteran asked, voice low but firm.

Dante turned slightly, his gaze steady beneath the mask. “I don’t think so. You might need to ask Faust. Why?”

Jatayu glanced toward the window, watching the ruins of Z Corp fade into the distance. His voice carried a quiet conviction. “Currently, since the remains of Z Corp are golden bough-less and suffering the trials of the outskirts, and might have to resort to the protection of the Middle, it felt wrong to just… leave them with nothing.”

He paused, his fingers flexing slightly at his sides.

“Knowing that I used to work in P Corp, maybe I can get a few connections to potentially… maybe, get a protection delivery package to drop on them to help them out.”

He turned back to Dante, his expression earnest. “I ask again—do you think Limbus Company would mind if I made that kind of phone call to a different corporation?”

Dante didn’t answer immediately. The flames on his head flickered silently, casting a brief glow across his mask. He seemed to weigh the question—not just the logistics, but the implications.

Then, with a short nod, he gave his answer.

Jatayu exhaled quietly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. It was as if he finally felt ease that his actions, for once in his life, could protect someone he cared about—not through orders or obligation, but through choice.

The bus rolled on, its wheels humming against the pavement as the outskirts gave way to the fractured glow of city lights. Neon signs flickered past the windows, casting brief washes of color across the passengers’ faces. The movie continued to play, its sound low and distant, like a memory half-remembered.

One by one, the party began to disperse—some slipping into sleep, others lost in their own quiet rituals. Faust stirred and sat up slowly, blinking as she adjusted her coat. Mallo tucked her notepad away and leaned back, eyes half-lidded. Charon kept her eyes on the road, her hands steady on the wheel.

Jekyll plumped into her seat with a soft sigh, her coat wrapped tightly around her shoulders. She leaned against the window, cheek pressed to the cool glass, watching the city blur past in streaks of light and shadow. Her reflection stared back at her—tired, thoughtful, unreadable.

Her thoughts were loud in the quiet.

What foolish forgiveness…

It will destroy whatever that scientist built up for herself…

Hyde offered her input. I’m sure the Middle will want ot see us very soon… 

She didn’t say it aloud. She didn’t need to. The words sat heavy in her chest, like a warning she knew would go unheard. Ornella Alwera had made her choice. 

Outside, the city pulsed with life—indifferent, sprawling, full of stories that would never intersect again. Inside, the bus carried its passengers forward—toward their next mission, their next fracture, their next moment of clarity or collapse.

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. 

Dante froze, his flames cracking slightly in stunned silence. He didn’t return it. Couldn’t. Fear kept his arms bound to his side as if one wrong move could mess everything up. The party knew of the grudges—he had spoken of them with clipped precision. Yet here she was, dismantling them with a hug like they’d never existed.

Before anyone could process it, she was moving—drifting gracefully to Jatayu. Another soft embrace. A whispered “Welcome to my home.” Then Kuvira, then Charon. Her warmth was calm, practiced, like someone greeting long-lost comrades after years apart.

Her tone was light. Softer than expected. Excited, even. Ornella was not the clinical enigma they had imagined—but a woman who had once belonged to something, someone, and was relieved to feel like she did again.

Jekyll watched as Ornella approached the unfamiliar faces next.

She stiffened—barely—but enough for Hyde to stir.

Her gaze locked on Ornella’s face. Not with curiosity. Not with distrust.

With calculation.

I want to see how she is in a fight…

No! Jekyll’s breath faltered internally. This is a DIPLOMATIC mission, Hyde!

You have to be curious too, no? Hyde's voice grinned in the dark. She was fired. Randomly. Doesn’t that itch your brain? A scientist without results… hardly a threat. Or maybe she’s dangerous in the wrong way.

Jekyll clenched her fists, nails biting into her gloves. Ornella smiled at her—a polite, pleasant smile. The kind that said “nice to meet you” without ever meaning it.

Hyde hummed beneath her ribs, enjoying the peaceful interaction like it was the perfect setup for something catastrophic. 

Ornella approached Mallo first. She extended her hand gently and tilted her head. “The name’s Ornella Alwera, at your service. It is a pleasure to meet you. May I be graced with your name?” 

“M-Mallo.” 

Ornella did the same thing for Lenore as she extended her hand. Lenore also gave a curt reply as if she were slowly processing the situation. Ornella turned to Jekyll, offering the same greeting. Her gaze consisted of nothing but curiosity and warmth despite how cold her hand was when Jekyll grasped it. 

“Jekyll, nice to meet you,” the doctor stammered. 

Introduce me, too, idiot. 

“Or… Hyde on some days.” 

Ornella nodded gently. “Interesting. I shall call you by the former for now. Welcome.” Her icy gaze ripped itself from the doctor before she glanced back at the one she embraced first. Her hands clasped together, taking a moment to take in the sight as her eyes relaxed. “What are you guys doing-” she cut herself off immediately, shaking her head as the idea came to her. “Oh! Right, of course… I know why. Please, come inside.” 

Jekyll watched as the scientist took a step back into her house, holding the door open as her arm gestured to an interior room. “I shall grab some food for you all,” she smiled warmly, contrasting her initial icy nature.

Mallo was the first to accept her invitation and step inside the warm house, sweet scents of fire and the smell of raspberries flying out of the house. “Oh, thank you. This place is quite nice, actually.” 

“Thank you,” the scientist bowed her head. 

Ducking swiftly past Mallo, Vergilius, and Charon entering the doorstep, Jekyll made her way to the table in the middle of the house and sat down, before turning her gaze to the rest of the party slowly following her. 

Alright, this is going well so far, Jekyll began. She seems friendly. 

This could be a trap. Hyde scanned the house carefully. Didn’t she have a grudge against us? 

True… 

Most of the party joined the doctor at the table and sat down quietly. In the distance, Kuvira had stopped to turn toward Ornella before going off on another usual ramble. “Oh my goodness, Ornella, hi! How have you been? Oh my goodness, it’s been so long I feel like I haven’t seen you and-” she continued to talk her ear off, and the scientist seemed less excited to engage in a conversation. 

Eventually, everyone made themselves comfortable at the large dining table before Ornella strolled over before bowing slightly. “Please make yourselves at home. I shall grab some refreshments for your party so you may eat as we discuss the matter at hand.” 

As she turned to leave, Mallo spun around in her seat across from Jekyll to speak to the host. “Hey, you have a place I could smoke?” 

Ornella referred her to the balcony just outside of the house. Once Mallo left, Ornella made her way to an unseen part of the house where the smell of meat intensified. 

“Seems we are missing two of our comrades,” Lenore glanced around the table, pointing out that Mark and Boy had not joined them inside the house. “Shall we go check on them?” 

Maybe it’s for the better, Jekyll heaved a sigh. They would seriously mess things up, with Boy being from the former G Corp and Ornella’s relation to them, and Mark being… well, Mark. 

“It has been a while, maybe we should check on them,” Dante lifted a hand to his clock head and stared at the markings on the table. “Hmm, who is the most trustworthy…” 

Jekyll narrowed her eyes and took in the house a second time—this time with less tolerance. The stone bricks comprising the exterior were sloppily stacked, almost casual in their disregard for structural sense, like a child’s attempt at masonry left to age poorly. The mortar between them was more wishful thinking than adhesive. Inside, every piece of furniture was hewn from rough wood: splintered, angular, and wholly uninviting. Even the chairs seemed to discourage sitting, their backs too straight, their legs uneven. Barrels littered the corners like forgotten thoughts, some sealed, some askew, hinting at contents that no one wanted to remember.

A breeze slithered in through the warped window panes, bringing with it the faint scent of mildew and rot—ghosts of a storm that must’ve passed through unannounced. Floor tiles groaned beneath her step, some rusted at the corners, others cracked like dried earth. This was the kind of house where shoes weren’t just polite—they were survival.

“Hmph. Tacky,” she muttered, the description dropping like a stone in still water. 

“Jekyll,” Dante turned toward the one sitting next to him and tilted his head. “Could you go get Mark?” 

Me? Jekyll snapped back into reality and furrowed her eyebrows at the manager. You’ve deemed me the most trustworthy? 

What an absolute idiot. 

“Do I have to?” The doctor couldn’t place her finger on why she, out of all people, was chosen, considering her mishap with the drone earlier in the month, as well as Hyde constantly not wishing to follow orders. 

“You don’t have to, but it would really be appreciated if you did,” Dante said gently. 

Jekyll paused, still wearing an are-you-serious-right-now face, before Hyde spoke in her head.

Don’t stand there looking like a moron, act on it! 

Jekyll straightened with performative elegance, letting her spine curve just enough to broadcast superiority. The smirk that settled on her lips was practiced—half pride, half provocation. I suppose I am better than everyone here. She clicked her tongue sharply. “Yes. I can do that,” she said, voice glazed with false modesty and self-assured venom.

She kept that expression like armor as she exited, sweeping past a fellow scientist with a glance sharp enough to slice paper. Ornella, undisturbed, gave only a soft smile beneath her wide glasses as she steadied the weight of a steaming platter—lamb glistening, apples gleaming, raspberries like jeweled punctuation. She moved toward the table with the grace of someone who belonged.

The cold outside greeted Jekyll like a rival—not with subtlety, but with full force. It clawed at her coat and curled around her ankles. Her eyes snagged briefly on Merlin, locked in a disjointed duel with those cursed eye-creatures. She could feel questions sharpening in her throat—where had he vanished to? Had he even thought of the one who was killed before him? But it was clear the recognition didn’t land. The last time he'd seen her, she wore Hyde’s face—and that mask, twisted and chaotic, had no place in a negotiation mission.

Still, duty called. With one last flick of her coat and a sharpened breath, Jekyll turned from the scene and marched down the narrow hall, the floorboards groaning behind her. She stepped back into the chill and toward the waiting bus outside the café, where, seemingly, her coworkers were. 

Immediately, she could hear Mark’s voice. “You said the chances weren’t good, so I’d rather not go with it.” 

Jekyll stepped in cautiously, the doors opening for her despite the bus driver not being in the seat. She peeked her head in and tilted her head curiously, spotting Mark chatting with Faust as if he was supposed to be there. 

“So, Mark, we are beginning the negotiation,” Jekyll interrupted their conversation without a care. “Dante… reluctantly… requests you, Mark.” 

“Jekyll or Hyde speaking?” Mark raised an eyebrow, tearing his gaze away from Faust, who sat in the bus silently. “And don’t try lying, you already screwed that up earlier.” 

This idiot sure grew an attitude since his time in prison. Hyde clicked her tongue as Jekyll inhaled sharply. She glanced to the side before gesturing to her pinned hair. Is this not obvious enough? “That is not relevant at the moment,” she answered curtly. “We need to go do our jobs… I thought you were very advocating for that.” 

“Just spoke to Faust for a moment,” Mark said, casting only a brief glance at the woman before returning to the window. “I’m not really needed at the negotiation. Just tell Dante I’m probably wandering around.”

Jekyll arched a brow, the gesture sharp and deliberate. “You wish for me to report to your manager that you’re disobeying his order?”

“Sure. Whatever. What’s he going to do about it?”

Her lips parted to deliver a retort—something barbed, something elegant—but Hyde interrupted, a breath echoing inside her mind. He can live with the consequences. We don’t want him there anyway.

Jekyll shut her mouth, settled her expression into a detached neutrality, and nodded once. Silent agreement. She exited the bus with curt precision, skirts brushing past the narrow aisle, barely missing the hiss of the door behind her as Mark slipped out, headed in the opposite direction like a footnote she'd refused to read.

Each breath she took on her walk back to the house was purposeful, forced, attempting to steady the rising irritation that pulsed beneath her sternum. He’s being insufferable...

Hyde grumbled from within her conscience, just as bitter. They’re all the same. Not one of them listens. Not one of them respects us.

Her boots met the stone path with hollow rhythm, and she didn’t argue. She couldn’t. It was true. We’ve been a joke since day one. A pair of discarded tools wrapped in ego and expectation.

Hyde was still muttering. Even our combat skills aren’t enough. We’re supposed to be threatening, supposed to twist fear into loyalty. But ever since joining this sad excuse of an organization—

Jekyll halted mid-step, her boots grinding against the frostbitten stone path. The wind curled around her ankles like a warning, tugging at the hem of her coat and whispering through the cracks in the nearby walls. Her body stiffened, instinct flaring like a match. Merlin stood just ahead, half-shadowed by the crooked frame of the house—an apparition more than a man, as if the world itself had conjured him to test her resolve.

She barely regained her footing, her breath catching as her hair bun unraveled behind her in the wind’s grasp. Her monocle slipped from its perch, swinging like a pendulum from its chain. She cursed under her breath, fingers fumbling to retie her hair with mechanical urgency, eyes flicking up to meet his.

“A–Apologies, I—” she began, voice clipped, pride already trying to reassert itself.

Merlin blinked, rubbed his temple, and adjusted his glasses with trembling fingers. His gaze settled on her face—and then shattered. He stumbled backward, knees buckling as he hit the cold ground with a thud that echoed faintly against the stone. His eyes widened, locked onto her like she was a ghost dredged from the deepest part of his memory.

“You…” he breathed, the word barely audible, but heavy with recognition.

Jekyll froze mid-motion, her hands still tangled in her hair. Her monocle dangled from its chain, swaying like a clock caught between seconds. She raised a brow, the gesture slow, deliberate. Hyde stirred beneath her skin, watching with a predator’s grin.

He recognizes us.

Really?

Look at him. He’s shaken. We still have power, just not among our so-called allies. But those who know who we truly are… they remember. They fear.

The cold wind howled through the broken windows of the house behind them, carrying the scent of damp wood and old ash. The barrels scattered across the yard creaked faintly, as if reacting to the tension. Merlin’s reaction backed Hyde’s claim with every twitch of his body. He skittered away from Jekyll like a wounded animal, palms scraping against the stone, his eyes never leaving her face.

He looked horrified. Not confused. Not startled. Horrified—like a child who had watched a loved one die and now saw the killer wearing their face.

That was exactly what happened, Hyde whispered, voice curling like smoke. The last time he saw us… he saw death.

Mohini.

Jekyll didn’t move. She let the silence stretch, let the weight of recognition settle like dust on both of them. Her breath was steady now, her posture regal, her expression unreadable. But inside, Hyde was smiling.

Merlin’s voice cracked through the silence like a whip. “The hell are you doing here?! How did you find me?!”

He scrambled to his feet, fists clenched around the ceremonial chains gifted to him by the Middle—symbols of allegiance, once protective, now impotent. Hyde recognized them instantly. They were relics of a system that promised power but delivered obedience.

Maestro was right, Jekyll hissed. He truly did amount to nothing.

Hyde stirred, squirming in the backseat of Jekyll’s mind. Let me take the reins.

Jekyll hesitated—but curiosity won over caution. She slipped quietly into the background, and Hyde surged forward.

Her posture sharpened. She straightened her spine, dusted off the monocle, and placed it over her brown eye with deliberate flair. Her hands fell away from her half-tied hair, letting it whip freely in the wind. A wicked grin bloomed across her face as she tilted her head toward the trembling man before her.

“My, my, Merlin Alwera,” she purred. “Long time no see~”

Merlin’s eyes flared with rage. “If you’re here to harm my aunt, I swear I’ll—”

Hyde laughed, loud and unrestrained. “Relax, relax. I’m not here for you,” she said, voice dripping with mockery. Her grin softened into something more curious, almost playful. “Nor am I here for her. Just… a pleasant surprise to see you again. It’s been, what, seven years?”

Merlin shivered. The tattoos etched into his skin began to glow faintly, reacting to his rising pulse. He opened his mouth, but the words caught in his throat. His breath hitched.

Hyde leaned in slightly, amused. “You’re a smart guy, eh? Why can’t you speak? Cat got your tongue?”

“I have nothing to say to you,” he spat, though his voice trembled.

“Of course you don’t.” Hyde twirled the paintbrush in her hand with practiced ease, the motion hypnotic. “I expected nothing but hatred if we were to ever cross paths again. Even though I didn’t kill her.”

Merlin flinched. His hand flew to his chest as if trying to hold something inside. “You didn’t… You weren’t the one who killed her.”

“I watched,” Hyde said, her voice low and deliberate. “I was there. I encouraged her death.”

Merlin’s knees nearly buckled. “Is your m–maestro with you?”

“No.”

“Good…” He looked away, trying to steady his breathing. His shoulders sagged slightly, the fight draining from him.

Hyde tilted her head, eyes narrowing. “Such an intense reaction for someone you only knew for a week.”

“She… she was everything to me,” Merlin said, voice cracking. “Clearly, you didn’t share the same perspective, given how you reacted to her death.”

Hyde’s smile vanished. Her tone turned cold. “She was one of my students, Merlin. But associating with the Middle? That’s not something we tolerate. She was asking for trouble. Frankly, she was lucky it was the maestro who dealt with her instead of me.”

Jekyll gulped gently in the back of her mind. What is the goal of this conversation?

Merlin’s gaze dropped to the ground. His fists loosened, the chains clinking softly as they fell to his sides.

“...I did what I had to do,” he whispered.

There’s the guilt, Hyde thought, lips curling into a smirk. “Sacrificing her life so you could join the Middle? Why, the correct choice indeed. It really revealed your true colors then, didn’t it?”

Merlin didn’t respond. His silence was louder than any scream.

Hyde watched him with a predator’s patience. “You weren’t the first to fall for her seduction,” she said, glancing at her fingers as if inspecting them for beauty. “I always found her recruitment methods… questionable. She just happened to pick the wrong person.” Her gaze sharpened, locking onto him. “Perhaps it was your eyes. The only thing that showed color in that dreaded T Corp.”

Merlin flinched, just slightly. “It’s what drew the Middle to me as well,” he muttered, voice low. He shook his head, then looked up with a stare that tried—desperately—to be hard. “So why are you here now, talking to me? Didn’t you say the Ring would leave me alone after that whole incident?”

I just wanted to see you tremble before me, Hyde thought, but she only gave a sly smirk. “Do you regret what you did to my student?”

Merlin’s jaw clenched. He knew what she was doing—shifting the blame, twisting the knife. But he couldn’t stop her. He had made the choice. When the maestro asked him to choose—his life and a future with the Middle, or Mohini’s—he had chosen himself. The maestro hadn’t hesitated. Mohini was executed in front of Hyde, and the memory was immortalized in a painting that sold well. It traumatized the boy, and he didn’t move as the Middle dragged him away. Pain always fetched a high price.

Merlin’s voice came out hoarse. “...No. No, I don’t.”

Hyde tilted her head, expression unreadable. “So why do you talk about her and associate me with her as if you ever cared?”

Merlin sighed, the sound brittle. “Because I did care,” he said, finally. “And I still do. That’s the problem.”

Hyde blinked, surprised by the honesty. Merlin continued, his voice steadier now, but hollow.

“She was the first person who saw me as more than a tool. She asked questions no one else dared to ask. She made me feel like I could be something inside the city, outside of my aunt’s shadow. And I destroyed that.”

He looked at Hyde, eyes glassy but defiant. “You think I don’t regret it because I said I didn’t. But regret doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t bring her back. It doesn’t erase the blood. So I live with it. Quietly. Alone.”

Hyde’s grin faltered. Jekyll stirred faintly in the back of her mind, unsure whether to step forward or let the silence speak.

Merlin lowered his gaze, the weight of her presence pressing down like frost on his shoulders. “You came here to watch me tremble. Fine. You win,” he said, voice low and tight. “But don’t pretend you’re here for justice. You’re here because you’re still angry. And maybe… maybe you miss her too.”

Hyde scoffed, the sound sharp and theatrical. “HAH! Angry?” She tilted her head, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and disdain. “I came because I have business with another company. But it’s truly been a treat to see that after all these years, the scars haven’t healed. The blood of her death still stains your hands, doesn’t it?”

She stepped forward, just slightly, enough to make him flinch. “Tell me, Merlin—did punching your way through the Middle ease the guilt? Did it make you feel like a man again?”

Merlin’s fists clenched at his sides, knuckles whitening. His breath hitched, but he didn’t lash out. Not yet. “...You truly don’t miss your own student?”

Hyde’s expression didn’t change. “I couldn’t care much about losing a child.”

Merlin blinked, stunned. “Those are your children? You think of them as children? Then why do they look like…”

Hyde’s smile returned, slow and eerie. “They are so very beautiful. Aren’t they? You thought that way yourself. I don’t know where they get it from.”

Merlin’s voice dropped to a whisper. “...Yes. Beautiful. Of course…”

Hyde’s gaze sharpened, her tone shifting from whimsical to surgical. Her eyes darkened. “Yet despite being beautiful artworks—capable of creating masterpieces—they often fail. They fail to overcome their moral compass. And that holds them back from what truly matters.”

Merlin’s hand drifted to his chest, fingers curling over the fabric as if trying to hold something in. His silence was no longer defiance—it was grief.

Hyde watched him, eyes darkening further. “But you… You seemed to overcome it quite easily. If anything, I’m here to congratulate you.”

She leaned in, voice soft but venomous. “You chose yourself. You chose power. And Mohini paid the price. That’s what makes you different, Merlin. That’s what makes you like me. That’s what makes you useful.”

Merlin’s breath trembled, his chest rising in shallow waves. “I didn’t want her to die.”

“But you didn’t stop it,” Hyde replied, her smile fading into something colder, more clinical. “And that’s all that matters.”

She glanced toward the door, then casually set down her weapon on the nearby table with a metallic clink. Her fingers moved with practiced ease as she tied her hair back, the gesture oddly domestic in contrast to the venom she’d just spilled. “I have other business to attend to,” she said, smoothing the last strand into place. “But should the Middle ever fail you… You’ll always have a place as a student of mine.”

Her grin returned, sly and deliberate. “You have that selfish fire I look for in students. And the obedience of a dog—like a lioness submitting to the lion. It’s rare. It’s valuable.”

Merlin flinched at the comparison, his spine stiffening as he tried to regain composure. He straightened his back, adjusted his glasses with trembling fingers, but the gesture felt hollow. “I’d never accept an offer from someone like you.”

Hyde paused at the threshold, one hand resting lightly on the doorframe. She didn’t look back immediately—just let the silence stretch, let the weight of her words settle like ash.

Then, with a tilt of her head, she spoke. “No, you would have. If you fell for Mohini, it wouldn’t be hard to like someone like me. She was… not so different. She took after me.”

Merlin’s voice cracked, barely above a whisper. “Wouldn’t you think I’d choose myself over you, then?”

Hyde turned, her eyes gleaming with something ancient and cruel. She saw the way he tried to wear his guilt like armor, tried to twist his failure into defiance. It made her grin widen, slow, and predatory.

“Yes,” she said. “You would. But when everyone’s at their wits’ end—when the world stops pretending to be kind—they always come crawling back to an offer like mine.”

She stepped inside, leaving the door ajar behind her. The silence she left in her wake wasn’t peace—it was a dare.

He won’t accept our offer, Jekyll reasoned, the thought surfacing like a breath held too long. Leaving the Middle has consequences. His superiors like him too much. He’s too entrenched.

Hyde lingered in the recesses of their mind, reluctant but calculating. No… but having the offer— her voice curled like smoke, to join the very place, to serve under the very people who killed his beloved… that will haunt him. That will rot him from the inside.

Jekyll’s fingers twitched as she picked up the weapon again, the metal cool and familiar in her grip. She shifted uncomfortably, her gaze flicking toward the empty hallway. At least no one was there to see it.

Hyde stirred, amused. Aw, come on. You can’t tell me you didn’t miss it. The way they squirm under our feet, the way fear makes them honest. Surely you missed seeing their pain—it’s… inspiring.

Jekyll didn’t respond. She moved to the table, setting the weapon down with deliberate care. Her eyes dropped to the floor, tracing the faint scuff marks left by Merlin’s boots. She reached for the report she’d started for Dante—notes on Mark’s behavior, his inconsistencies, his potential.

She tried to ignore Hyde.

She really did.

But her fingers hesitated over the page. Her breath slowed. And somewhere, deep in the marrow of her thoughts, she couldn’t help but agree.