#mallo lcb

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jatayu blinked. “…Thank you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rage.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Something was wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come, ransom,” she snapped loudly.

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

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

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

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

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

Behind them, chaos erupted.

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

The fragile balance snapped into violence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That threat hit the air like a gunshot.

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

Dante spoke softly, “Mallo…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not safe—” Jekyll began.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hyde grinned, agreeing wholeheartedly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes!” she barked.

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, things are about to get real.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The word landed like a slap.

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

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

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

The chamber beyond swallowed her in shadow.

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

At the center stood a man.

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

Hex.

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

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

Then he turned, smile slicing sharp across his face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They’re afraid of him?” Mark asked.

“They work for him,” Dante corrected.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lenore’s shoulders tightened.

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

The entire group froze.

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

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

Where is her child? 

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

“Forty-eight?” Mark guessed bluntly.

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

“Twenty-one.”

“Oh, you’re a kid.”

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

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

“So?” Mark snapped, undeterred.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mallo finally threw his hand away with a sharp flick.

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

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

He pointed at Mark.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hex stumbled, eyebrows shooting up in genuine surprise.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Screw him up,” Mark snapped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hex smirked. “I wish they were dead.”

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

Hex hopped backward, almost gleeful. “Doodleloo~”

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

The temperature dropped instantly.

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

Understatement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Hyde smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She was watching.

And she was waiting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And still, Hyde did not move.

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

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

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

And Hyde had no interest in playing to noise.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The last peccatulum fell with a wet thud.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hyde was still smiling. “Sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Agreed,” Dante said quickly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A low, distant horn.

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

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

She saw them.

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

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

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

The transformation hit like a wave.

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

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

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

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

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

Like an EGO. 

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

Hyde didn’t hesitate.

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

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

The second robot didn’t even react in time.

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

But Hyde wasn’t done.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The fourth robot twitched, then charged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The door burst open.

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

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

Hyde didn’t turn. She just smiled.

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

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

Mark snorted. “Getting beat up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But she was proud.

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

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

Not for justice.

Not for duty.

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

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

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

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

Hyde’s eyes narrowed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jekyll nodded slowly, still catching up to the moment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Life became better once people respected us, no? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You lost the war,” Mark said simply.

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

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

Jatayu turned to Alex. “Anything to report?”

Alex turned slowly and shrugged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Charon is a safe driver,” she commented. 

Oh, now I’m really going to kill h—

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

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

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

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

Hyde seemed to backtrack as well. 

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

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

“We're here. Get up.” She demanded. 

“We have arrived,” Lenore added. 

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

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

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

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

“Eh, I mean—” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What’s his deal? 

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

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

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

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

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

A type of power she had. 

You’re insane, Hyde. 

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

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

What is her deal? 

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

Mark shrugs. “Ehh…” 

“Yeah, a little bit,” Boy commented. 

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

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

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

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

Look at you being so vulgar. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wow, they finally agreed on something for once. 

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

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

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

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

“No.” 

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

“Vergilius will suffice.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It never hurts to prepare in advance.” 

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

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

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

Who cares? Hyde shrugged. 

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

My question still stands. 

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

Dante looked hurt by the comment. “Mark!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Boy cursed out loud at the remark. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Dante, you wanna replay that memory?” 

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

“I agree with Jekyll,” Mallo added. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have crap in my room, okay, Boy?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then why are you here?” Lenore inquired.

“Take a guess.” 

“It’s surely not for the salary.” 

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

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

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

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

…Is she from here or something? 

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

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

 Quite inspiring, isn’t it? 

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

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

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

I like your thinking. 

…Thanks, I guess. 

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

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

“Faust?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Faust smiled at him.

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

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

Huh, taking after my tongue I see.

Shut up. 

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

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

Not important enough to the negotiation at hand. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The stars remained indifferent.

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

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

“What do you think of the stars?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The group shifted slightly, the mood tightening.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“At this specific one?” Dante pressed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dante exhaled slowly, rubbing his fingers on his face. “Oh boy.”

The group moved, their shadows stretching long behind them as they stepped deeper into the maze of P Corp’s forgotten veins. The city did not welcome them—it tolerated them. 

The backstreets of P Corp stretched out before them like a maze carved from concrete and rust. Buildings loomed on either side, stacked close and crooked, their facades a patchwork of peeling paint, flickering neon signage, and half-shuttered windows. The air was thick—humid, metallic, and tinged with something acrid that clung to the back of the throat. Somewhere overhead, a power line buzzed faintly, like a warning.

Jekyll stepped slowly, her boots crunching against broken glass and gravel. The ground felt uneven, like the city itself had grown tired of holding its shape. She glanced around, cataloging the group’s positions instinctively. Mallo had already started walking north, her stride confident, almost too confident. Everyone else followed without question, pulled along by inertia or habit.

Jekyll lingered a moment longer, her senses prickling. She watched most of the party stroll past her as her ears perked. The doctor had always trusted her gut when something was off about a place - she had always known those kinds of things from a very young age, as if she was forced to learn. She listened closely, drowning out the party and diverting her attention down the other alleyways. There was music—faint, synthetic, pulsing like a heartbeat through the alley walls east of them. It sounded like an electronic tune; not loud enough to be coming from any speaker nearby, but not imagined either. She tilted her head, trying to locate the source.

“Yeah?” Boy said in reply to something the party said up ahead, his voice casual, but his eyes were scanning the shadows.

Hyde snorted in her head, a sharp mental jab. She recognized the type of music immediately. Of course, they followed us here from the outskirts. The Middle never knows when to quit.

It felt like Jekyll’s vision narrowed on the east alleyway, becoming more alert at the realization. Her hands turned cold. They are here? Jekyll did not respond aloud, but it was the only thought she mustered as her eyes shifted to the manager. 

The manager had stopped abruptly, his body stiff as a statue. His gaze was locked on a narrow alley to their right, eyes wide, breath shallow. Fear radiated off him in waves—not the kind that made him scream, but the kind that made him freeze. He began to drift toward the alley, slow and deliberate, as if something was pulling him.

Jekyll’s heart kicked up. If it was indeed who she and Hyde assumed to be, Dante should be going nowhere near them. She broke into a jog, closing the distance between her and Dante, grabbing his arm firmly. “Manager,” she said, voice low but urgent. “Mallo is leading us that way. Let’s not wander off.”

Dante blinked, as if surfacing from a trance. Boy had stopped too, stepping closer to Jekyll and Dante with concern etched across his face.

Mark said something ahead of them—probably a joke, probably dismissive—but Jekyll didn’t register it. Her focus was on Dante, whose posture had softened into sheepishness.

“Ah, sorry,” he murmured. “I just wanted to confirm something.”

Jekyll offered a small smile, trying to ease the tension. She glanced down the alleyway cautiously. “The music is groovy, but let’s stay on task.”

She felt Hyde stir again, amused. Groovy? You’re slipping, darling.

The group moved north again, feet echoing against the narrow corridor of the street. The music pulsed faintly, like it was coming from underground. Jekyll’s skin prickled. She did not trust it. She knew she couldn’t trust it.

The alley was narrow, hemmed in by buildings that leaned as if they were eavesdropping. Rusted pipes ran like veins along the walls, dripping something foul-smelling into puddles that shimmered with oil. Neon signage flickered overhead—half-lit kanji, broken logos, a looping ad for a nightclub that probably hadn’t existed in years. The air was thick with humidity and static, and somewhere beneath it all, the music pulsed again.

“Is that EDM?” Mark asked, squinting toward a flickering sign that might’ve once advertised a nightclub as he stopped in his tracks. Perhaps he felt the vibrations of the music through the shaking gravel.

“What’s that?” Mallo replied, not slowing down.

Mark grinned. “Grandma, it’s electronic dance music.” He turned to Jekyll. “Jekyll, Hyde—don’t you know the Hawaiian shirts paired with it?”

Jekyll raised an eyebrow, not amused with his everyday assumptions that were borderline insulting. “Hyde is familiar with them, yes.”

Familiar? Hyde cackled. We go WAY back. Those familial bastards are so set on revenge they drove themselves to death when they crossed my maestro’s territory. 

Mark chuckled, then frowned slightly. “I wonder why they’re here.”

“There is no music,” Mallo said flatly, clearly unable to hear or feel it. Her gaze hardened, looking at the rest of the party like they had lost their minds. “Let’s go.”

“Grandma, don’t worry about that,” Mark teased again, waving his hand dismissively. It was as if he was using the new nickname to get under her skin purposely.

Boy’s voice cut through, quieter but firm. “Let’s go. I don’t wanna deal with the Middle anyway.” 

Mallo stopped mid-step, clearly hearing that. She slowly turned her head to the experiment. “What did you say?”

“The Middle?” Boy repeated, eyes narrowing. 

Jekyll felt the tension spike. Her gaze flicked to each member of the group—Mark’s casual bravado, Boy’s guarded stance, Dante’s lingering unease, Mallo’s sudden alertness. The air felt heavier now, like the city was listening.

Oh, things are about to get interesting~ Hyde smirked. 

The doctor glanced up at the buildings again. They weren’t just looming—they were watching. And somewhere connected to the concrete, the music kept playing. Someone was aware of the group's presence and wanted to make it known that they were there and knew the group was also present. 

“I wanna take a detour and check something real quick,” Mallo said, already veering off course. She turned around and immediately headed down the east alleyway.

“Wait,” Boy called after her, voice tight. “Will this end in violence?”

“Yes!” Mallo replied, almost cheerfully. The notion made her storm off quicker.

Mark reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder and stopping her from going further. “Come on, Mallo. No time for detours.”

She slapped his hand away with a sharp crack. “Don’t touch me. I just wanna talk to them. I just want to see.” Her eyes flicked to Dante. “Dante, let me—”

Dante stepped forward, urgency bleeding into his voice. “Wait, Mallo, please. If this music is the music I know, this is a horrible choice.”

Mallo waved him off. “It’s nothing we can’t handle. You can revive us.”

Mark scoffed, withdrawing his arm and rubbing it with his other hand. “Last time you saw them, you ran away.”

“Shut up,” Mallo snapped, already peeking down the alleyway again. She tried to take off again.

Jekyll’s breath caught. She didn’t think—she just moved. Her boots splashed through a puddle as she chased after Mallo, grabbing her arm. “This isn’t a good idea. We have a job to do, and we’re not supposed to be splitting up.”

Boy followed closely behind Jekyll, quick and quiet. “We shouldn’t mess with the Middle,” he said, “but we need Mallo to go where we need to go.”

Mallo twisted out of Jekyll’s grip, almost shoving her away as she tried to peer into the dark. “I can’t see crap,” she muttered, stepping deeper into the alley.

Jekyll squinted, heart thudding. There—just beyond the flickering light—was a figure. Tall. Still. Watching. “I see someone,” she said, voice low. “But I don’t know who it is.”

Definitely someone we don’t want to see right now, Hyde rolled her eyes. But, alas, trouble always seems to find us in this company. 

Boy’s voice was a whisper now. “Can you see? Is this a good idea?” He looked at Mallo first, and when she didn’t reply immediately, his gaze turned to Jekyll. 

“Dante will revive me,” Mallo said, like that settled it. No one else tried to stop her again as she stepped into the alleyway and disappeared from sight. 

Hyde stirred in Jekyll’s mind, sharp and bitter. Idiot’s gonna get herself killed. The Middle’s a family—a tight-knit, blunt, outdated tattoo tech Finger. But the chains, too, can be an issue. Don’t they have them augmented? Like Dante. Sort of.

Jekyll’s skin prickled. She didn’t know the answers to the questions, but she knew, regardless, it would mean trouble. She felt it—eyes on her.

“We should get going, alright?” Boy said, stepping away from the east alleyway and toward the north, like he was trying to pull Mallo with some invisible leash. 

Jekyll backed away slowly, her gaze fixed on the alley. Only Boy was still visible near her. The rest of the party had continued north around a corner. Mallo had vanished into the shadows.

“Why the hell are you guys terrified?” Mallo’s voice echoed back, defiant. She talked as if she couldn’t see the person behind her. 

“We’re splitting up,” Boy said, his voice strained. “And we’re being watched. We’ve already messed up our mission.”

Jekyll’s pulse pounded in her ears. The music was louder now, and it was approaching quickly. The figure behind Mallo took steps toward her. Hyde was silent; that was worse.

“We should get going,” Boy said again, eyes locked on something beyond the gate. It appeared he had caught it, too. “Someone’s approaching.”

Jekyll didn’t move. She couldn’t. The alley felt like a mouth, and Mallo had just walked into it. But she couldn’t find it in herself to shout and warn Mallo a second time.

As if a part of her wanted to see what happened. 

A slow clap echoed through the alley, sharp and deliberate, followed by a laugh that didn’t belong to anyone Jekyll trusted. The figure in the dark slowly stepped into the light, making itself known to the three.  “Look who came this way,” the voice said—female, amused, and unmistakably dangerous. 

Jekyll crept forward, her breath shallow, peering around the corner with calculated caution. The alley was still slick with rainwater and neon haze, but now it held something colder. A woman stood in the center of the passage, posture relaxed, eyes gleaming with recognition. She wore a purple shirt, Hawaiian, as Mark had mentioned earlier. Chains were wrapped all around her arms, and tattoos covered every inch of skin that showed. She wore white pants, and a large, chained book dangled from her waist. Her hair was styled back, and she wore shades to hide her shining eyes. A Middle sister.

Mallo laughed, but it was brittle—like glass under pressure. “You know those guys who came back to you with the report? I thought they were joking. That’s funny…” Her voice cracked at the edges. It was the first time Jekyll ever saw Mallo truly afraid. 

Boy narrowed his eyes. “Mallo, are you drunk?”

The woman didn’t answer. She snapped her fingers, and two more figures stepped out from the shadows—young, wiry, and unmistakably lethal. Little brothers. Their movements were fluid, practiced. They didn’t need to posture. They were already dangerous. “You know we’re everywhere,” the woman said, her tone shifting from playful to sharp. “Don’t play stupid. I have a few things to deal with, regarding you.”

Mallo stepped back, stave raised, her stance defensive but defiant. “You don’t scare me. You’re just random nobodies trying to intimidate me. You don’t… We’re not running—we’re fighting.”

Boy’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “We’ve got company!” He raised his gun, one that belonged to the ID that was snapped on him; his hands were steady despite the tremor in his voice. “We’re doing this now.”

The woman’s gaze flicked past Mallo and landed on Jekyll. Her smile widened. “Aha! You brought friends. Really, ha… I guess you never change. You brought friends last time.”

Jekyll stepped out from the corner, brush in hand, her grip firm. “And you thought I was getting us into trouble last time,” she said toward Mallo, her voice cool. Hypocrites. 

“It’s not trouble,” Mallo muttered, barely glancing her direction. “It’s just business with Orange we have to deal with.”

Mark appeared from the other end of the alley, his silhouette framed by the flickering signage. “Sure, call it whatever. Let’s start this already.”

The tension snapped like a wire. Most of the attackers surged toward Mallo, but one peeled off, eyes locked on Jekyll’s brush. She sighed, steadying herself. Aight, we working together like we discussed?

I wouldn’t miss a chance to beat these guys to a pulp for the world, Hyde purred, her voice velvet and venom.

Man, Jekyll thought, Merlin must’ve gotten that order through.

Mark took up a defensive stance, guarding without flair—just solid, dependable presence.

The first clash came fast. Mallo met the first brother head-on, stave cracking against his ribs. He staggered, breath knocked out of him. Jekyll pivoted and struck the second brother across the head with her brush, the impact sending a shockwave of ink and force. He dropped, dazed. It was enough to give them a couple of seconds of ease. 

With meticulous care and precision, the boy fired from afar, his bullets navigating the pandemonium without endangering any of his comrades. Although Jekyll did not know the specific location where the bullet came to rest, he did know that the bullet had, in fact, hit something. 

Following that, the reinforcements arrived on the scene. At Dante's command, Alex and Jatayu arrived, with Alex immediately moving to shield the flank and Jatayu quickly lunging to intercept a blow that was aimed at Mallo. He was unable to protect himself from the impact of the hit. After the strike hit with significant force, he went skidding across the pavement, leaving a smear of blood on the concrete.

“Jatayu, what the hell! I got this!” Mallo shouted, stave spinning.

Jatayu groaned, clutching his side. In an instant, half of his health had vanished, causing him to stagger.

“Be careful!” Boy called out, voice strained.

Then Jekyll saw him—the same Middle member from the outskirts. Not Merlin, but the one that had escaped the group. He was here. Watching. Waiting.

Distracted by Jatayu's injuries, Mallo's concentration faltered, which led to her losing the following clash, and ultimately, she was knocked off balance. Mark intervened, protecting Jatayu from the subsequent attack that was about to come.

Boy intercepted an attack aimed at Alex, winning the clash with a clean shot to the face of the first brother. The bullet tore through flesh, and Boy emptied his ammo with a thumb ID override.

Jekyll turned just in time to meet the little sister’s charge. The weapons of the two combatants met with a resounding clang, yet Jekyll was ultimately defeated in the struggle. Her sanity started to slip. Despite her efforts to raise her guard, the blow connected, causing ten damage and inflicting paralysis. Her body became rigid and her breathing became labored as she struggled to catch her breath. Hyde, she thought, this is your prime time to come out now…

Not yet, Hyde whispered. Let them think you’re weak. Let them lean in close.

Jekyll’s fingers twitched around the brush. The alley, now transformed into a battlefield, was illuminated by the garish glow of neon signs, stained with blood, and filled with the unsettling sounds of music that didn't belong. The sort of experience that caused your very bones to recall details you would rather forget.

The Middle swiftly recalibrated their strategy after Alex’s attack, redirecting their concentrated efforts towards Mallo with ‌surgical level of precision. With her grip firm on the stave, she stood her ground, her gaze fixed on the first brother, who was now struggling to maintain his balance, his breath coming in short gasps and his knees beginning to give way. Mallo, without a moment's hesitation, took action. Each blow she landed on him was more brutal than the last, with the stave cracking against his ribs, shoulder, and jaw as she continued her assault. The brother was thrown off balance and almost fell over.

Mark stepped in without ceremony. His blade slid cleanly through the man’s throat, silencing him mid-gasp. The body dropped, twitching once before going still.

Boy fired again but missed—his shot went wide, and the recoil knocked him off balance. He stumbled, clutching his side, blood blooming across his coat. That was enough.

Jekyll felt it. Hyde stirred. Finally, Hyde whispered. Let me off the leash.

Alex and Jatayu laid into Orange, the second brother. Their strikes were coordinated, but Orange was fast—too fast. Jatayu, in an attempt to protect Boy, leaped forward to stop the incoming attack, however, his estimation of the trajectory was off. After the hit landed with significant force, he was sent skidding across the pavement once more, coughing up blood as a result of the impact.

“Jatayu, what the hell! I got this!” Mallo shouted, stave raised.

With a groan, Jatayu stumbled and nearly fell, his health declining at an alarming rate.

Enough! Jekyll, moving quickly with a brush in hand, struck the middle sister. As the blow connected, her eyes grew wider, revealing a reaction that stemmed not from the immediate sensation of pain, but from a far more significant feeling. Insanity. As her eyes grew larger, a subtle movement could be detected in the corners of her mouth. Jekyll's eyes reflected the creeping insanity, and they slowly widened.

Mallo followed up, attacking the sister unopposed, her stave cracking against her ribs.

Mark intercepted another strike aimed at Alex, his bloodfiend fanghunt ID activating with a vicious gleam. His blade tore through the sister’s defenses, staggering her, leaving her in shambles.

Now, Hyde urged, and Jekyll obeyed. She took a deep breath and succumbed to the back of her mind as her sanity dropped. Hyde took the reins of control immediately, shifting the monocle quickly before attacking. She didn’t run—she prowled. Her grin was feral, her eyes gleaming with delight. She locked onto the middle little sister, who barely had time to react before Hyde’s blade found her throat. The Middle sister was slashed ruthlessly, causing blood to be splattered across the surrounding area. With no sign of life, the girl fell, and Hyde, chuckling to herself, used the back of her hand to remove the blood that was on her cheek.

Boy gave Hyde a side-eye, voice low. His eyes were locked on the horrific scene before him. It could be noted that he had never seen Jekyll turn so violent. “Okay… glad she’s on our side…”

“And they call me a bloodfiend,” Mark muttered, watching Hyde with something between admiration and concern.

Hyde turned toward Orange, her smirk deepening. She approached slowly, deliberately, her eyes locked on his. “You’re next.” She grinned wickedly, turning her weapon slowly toward him.

Orange, overcome with a sudden impulse, trembled as he retreated a step. Fear ultimately won, and his composure was lost as a result. “AAH! Don’t you stand up to the Middle like that!”

Mallo clapped from the back, nodding slowly as if she approved of the situation before her. “Wow, I need intimidation tips from you, Hyde.”

Mark stepped forward, voice cold. “I already killed one of you. You didn’t think I was coming to finish you off? I even took your book.”

Orange’s eyes widened. “You took Carl’s book?!”

“Yeah,” Mark said, blade gleaming. “And your name is in it.”

It was evident that Orange was shaken, as he staggered in response. As his aura began to crack, a fragile state enveloped him, much like a layer of frost settling on a surface.

Alex, in his sweeper ID, walked calmly to the corpses and began liquefying the remains. The hiss of dissolving flesh filled the alley.

“AAH! SWEEPER!” Orange screamed, panic overtaking him. He turned and bolted, feet slipping on the wet pavement.

Hyde didn’t hesitate. She was already moving—faster than anyone expected. Mark caught up first, slashing across Orange’s back and staggering him. Mallo was right behind, stave raised.

But Hyde was the one who finished it. With a swift leap, she brought her blade to bear, and with a flash, she plunged it into his spine. Orange collapsed, gasping, eyes wide as the last thing he saw was Hyde’s face—chaotic, gleeful, and utterly merciless.

After that moment, an encompassing silence descended, and everything went quiet. The alley remained in a state of stillness. The music, which had been playing, had come to a halt. The members in the middle were deceased.

And Hyde stood in the center of it all, smiling. Ah, what glorious art has been made today. She felt a sense of enlightenment and an almost fiery passion within her, as though she had finally completed something essential to her existence. 

Mark wiped his blade clean, flicking blood onto the pavement. “Not the first time you’ve taken something from me,” he muttered, casting Hyde a sideways glance. “Stealing my kill.” He turned and walked off, boots crunching over bones.

Mallo sprinted up, panting. Her eyes locked on the middle member’s corpse. She raised her stave, hesitated, then lowered it with a sigh. “Whatever.”

Boy tilted his head. “Mallo, did you get your bloodlust?”

She shrugged. “It was worth it. They were following us, so… good thing we went here.”

Alex wandered off to the nearest corpse, humming softly as he sawed off the arm with clinical precision. Hyde crouched beside the little sister’s body, vial in hand. She drained the blood carefully, watching the purple tint swirl inside the glass. Her smirk deepened. Ooh, I might have to come after these guys more often. I’ve never seen this color of blood before~

It would… make for a fine paint, Jekyll shuddered as she watched Hyde work.

Mark knelt by Orange’s body, flipping through pockets. “Three books now,” he said, holding one up. “I’m collecting them like trophies.”

“Can I see?” Boy asked.

Mark handed it over. “Just look at the title and section. It’s mostly disrespect and garbage inside. You can write in them, but this one’s empty.” He tapped the cover. "Carl's book is completely empty."

Boy nodded, slipping it into his coat. “I will still use my old journal, but thanks.”

Mallo stretched, cracking her neck. “Oh, gosh… I forgot they fight like hell.”

Mark scoffed. “This is the second fight where they haven’t done crap. I think they’re jokes.”

Boy, noticing blood, pointed at Mark’s arm and stated, "You're bleeding".

“Self bleed,” Mark replied, unfazed.

Jatayu limped over, voice shaky. “I’m glad you all took care of them…”

“You might wanna reset,” Mallo said, eyeing his wounds.

“I’ll manage—” Jatayu began, but Dante appeared behind him and triggered the rewind. The sudden flare of light caused both Jatayu and Mallo to blink, momentarily disoriented, but feeling refreshed as their vision cleared.

“Sorry for the detour,” Mallo said, brushing off her coat. “Had business with them I needed to take care of. Let’s take care of the mission.”

“No harm, no foul,” Boy replied.

Mark spent some time flipping through the book that belonged to the sister. “Lil fancy book from sis. I’m happy.”

Dante's expression shifted negatively as he looked down into the alley. “I’m curious why he ran this way instead of toward the street.”

“Maybe he went into one of the buildings?” Mallo offered.

“You run to your homies,” Mark said.

“Are you implying that more of them are here?” Mallo asked, brow raised.

“We don’t need a war!” Boy insisted.

“Not again,” Dante muttered.

“Again?!” Mallo echoed.

Mark used his fingers to gently tap the spine of the book. “Limbus Company is in the Middle books. We’re still their enemy.”

“We cleared them out. They were following us,” Mallo said. “Let’s deal with them and move on.”

“Now we are safe from…” Boy trailed off.

Jekyll rolled her eyes. None of you are making any sense. Can we not talk this out and form a plan before we go on? If we encounter any higher-ranking members, this could mean a lot of trouble for us. 

Hyde remained silent, shifting her gaze from the party while simultaneously concealing the purple-tinged blood vial within her coat. On that particular occasion, she appeared to be serious, as though she was deeply contemplating something, which was not something that happened very often. 

Mark turned to Dante, eyes gleaming. “Speaking of, how would your blood taste?”

Dante stared, backing up a step.

“Just a little nibble,” Mark teased.

“No, I—” Dante started.

Boy raised his hand. “You can have mine. Don’t think it’d taste good, but—”

Mallo groaned. “Can you guys stop having sexual energy and get on with it?! Get a room.” She smirked and strode ahead, as if her joke was something to be proud of. 

“At least I’m not paired with someone forty years older than me,” Mark muttered.

The grandma seemed to have heard it. “Dante, how old are you?”

Mark snorted. “Dante is old. He’s fine with it.”

“There’s a grandfather clock for a reason,” Mallo quipped.

Mark raised an eyebrow. “If you think about it, Mallo, most people who don’t tell their age are women.”

Mallo stopped. “What are you implying?”

With a sidelong glance, he abruptly stopped talking and closed his mouth. “I made a mistake. I retract the statement,” Mark said quickly.

With an eye roll, Mallo responded with a "yeahhh…" and continued onward with her walk.

As they retraced their steps, the corridor constricted, the walls seeming to encroach upon them, adorned with rust-colored pipes and intermittently lit signs that emitted a buzzing sound reminiscent of insects. The air held a subtle scent of ozone and was noticeably thick with static electricity. The voices, which were quiet, conversational, and nearly nonchalant, resonated from the hall that was situated right next to them.

Slowing her pace, Jekyll focused her attention on the surrounding sounds, listening carefully. Middle members. They assembled together, much like they were waiting for an event or a particular moment to occur. The group ignored the party, and they focused on their own thoughts and conversations, murmuring.

Mark, ever the opportunist, pulled out one of the books he’d looted and tapped a few buttons. As the sound began, a low, distorted melody filled the space, and it was apparent that it was something electronic, which also sounded familiar. The Middle didn’t react much. If anything, they paid even less attention to the group.

Mallo kept walking, unfazed. Like most people, she didn’t stop to question the silence. Dante, however, hesitated. His steps faltered, eyes flicking toward the gathering.

Hyde didn’t let him linger. With a grin on her face, she moved behind him and gave his back a shove. “Come on, Dante. Can’t have you slacking.”

He stumbled forward, muttering something under his breath, but didn’t resist.

“There’s the facility,” Mallo said, pointing ahead. The building was situated in the open, and it was gray and industrial, faintly humming, seemingly with the low but constant vibration of power. The edges of the structure were sharp, and the windows presented a dark appearance.

“Perfect,” Boy replied, adjusting his coat.

Alex paused, his hand still raised. “Last time we came across the Demon Syndicate. I wonder if we’ll meet the Middle.”

“We are not going to meet the Mid—” Mallo began, but then she looked inside.

Her words died.

Fifty Middle members. The building was so crowded that people were packed in tightly, much like sardines in a can. Talking. Laughing. Watching.

Mallo didn’t wait. With a sudden turn, she fled, her boots making a loud slapping sound as they hit the concrete surface. With eyes that were wide and a scramble to follow, the rest of the party stammered after her. She slammed the door to the Lobotomy Corporation Facility shut and leaned against it, laughing breathlessly. “We are NOT going back out there.”

“Yeah, agreed,” Boy said, catching his breath.

Mark tilted his head. “Think I could blend in with the books?”

“Maybe,” Boy said, uncertain. “But I dunno. Maybe with IDs?”

Dante pulled up his panel, scrolling. “I got stuff for Lenore… on Middle… uhm… I could try and pull…” His eyes widened. “Oh. I missed one. Jekyll—erm, Hyde—you have a Middle ID.”

Hyde snapped her head around to face the manager. There is a world where I stoop low enough to join those punks? 

Mark leaned over his shoulder. “Does that say Big Sister?”

Dante blinked. “Wh—”

“Lenore Big Sister?” Mark repeated, incredulous.

Mallo, clearly frustrated and finished with the discussion, shoved past them while exclaiming, “What the actual h— Whatever.” She slammed the elevator button. The object began to emit a dull light, and the lift then commenced its slow descent. “Everyone, get in.”

“I look snazzy,” Mark said, adjusting his coat as he eyed the ID. “Pull that for me, Dante.”

“Let’s just… catch up,” Dante muttered, trying to put his panel away as he stepped forward.

But Hyde stopped him again, her finger tapping the panel. “I wanna try that one,” she said, pointing to the Middle ID. She cast a quick glance over the rest of the identities her manager had for her, but none of them were the one she truly wanted to use. 

One was missing.

The OOOO ID she pulled earlier in the week burned in her mind—bright, insistent, but she didn’t reveal it. Not yet, that’s my surprise tool to help us later. It would be fun to use the Middle ID. She wanted to see Mallo’s face; the horror laced upon it would be delightful.

Jekyll frowned, arms crossed, watching Hyde with quiet unease.

As the group entered the elevator, the metal walls began to shut, encapsulating them inside. The stillness of the area was broken by the continuous sound of operating machinery.

Hyde leaned casually on Dante’s shoulder, tapping his panel with one hand. “Huh,” she said, spotting the ID. She reached into her coat, pulled out the OOOO ID card, and placed it in Dante’s hand with a smirk. Then she turned away as if it were nothing. Maybe scaring him now would be funnier.

Dante stared at the PDA, then let out a surprised train whistle noise. “Huh??? How did you… when did… huh… uh… hm… I don’t think you should have had this…”

Hyde raised her head proudly. “Why not? Won’t it get the job done?” Her smile faded, her face sharpening into something cold. “I pulled it. Clearly, split shards favor me when it comes to pulling. Use it when we need it. There will be a time when you will…”

“I-I meant like you physically should not have the ID card,” Dante stammered. “Like, not in your possession… Still, good catch? Offering her a thumbs-up that was uncertain, he simultaneously tilted his head in her direction. “You should tell others when you’re using the company’s resources.”

Leaning back against the elevator wall with her arms crossed, Hyde's smirk lingered, much like the tendrils of smoke. “I used my ego shards,” she repeated, voice laced with casual superiority. She lied, of course, but it was so casual it didn’t seem like one. 

Dante sighed, defeated. “I… fair enough, yeah.” He tucked his PDA away, shoulders slumping. “That’s a good point. You do have, like, 990 of them.”

Hyde’s eyes flicked toward the manager, sizing him up like a mildly disappointing appetizer. She scoffed, barely audible, but the word slipped out, anyway. “Pushover.” Her thoughts curled inward, smug and self-assured. Haah… I’m even richer in their system, too. It’s like I’m destined to be great. The idea settled in her chest like a crown—unearned, but worn with conviction.

Jekyll, ever the quiet counterbalance, added softly, Well, it is very convenient. And comfortable.

“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.

The doctor sighed in relief, trying to speak to him. However, no words came out of her mouth. Her mouth did not move despite her soul wishing to talk to him. Dante simply took Jekyll’s hand and pulled her towards him. 

Some sort of barrier broke the moment Jekyll crossed the door threshold. The light overwhelmed her eyes, and she fell into Dante’s arms before all her senses became overstimulated, refusing her any access to the outside world until they recollected themselves. 

The light slowly dimmed, allowing Jekyll’s eyes to adapt to the environment. She watched herself be reassembled piece by piece painlessly. It only took a few minutes for all her blood to return to her vessels and function in her body to be restored. 

Dante was holding onto her hand just like in the vision. He looked more concerned than worried. “Hopefully, you are alright,” he ticked, nodding. He clenched his stomach violently as if he felt Jekyll’s pain after she died. 

Jekyll didn’t let go of his hand. She leaned on Dante’s shoulder as her head spun. She wondered what happened, but figured she would ask later. All she knew was that she was safe by Dante’s side, and he wouldn’t let anything happen to her as long as he was around. The flames on the top of his head provided enough light and heat to keep her warm, and she wasn’t ready to give up that comfort just yet, especially after breaking free from the cold floor of hell. 

With the Sinner in his grasp, the clock stared down at the therapist, ensuring that the world couldn't harm her now. The pain – which never faded each time the hands of his face turned – was secondary to the hands of the sinner before him. He glanced around, ensuring there wouldn't be anything to disturb their moment of peace, keeping track of time. "It's alright. It's going to be ok. The first time is always the worst, dying. But.. you don't have to do it alone. You are never alone."

Jekyll laughed lightly. Second… time… 

First time on the battlefield, bastard. 

Jekyll sighed, not happy to hear Hyde in the back of her head. She glanced up, bowing to the clock in thanks. “You’re the best, Dante.” She smiled softly. “The best manager I could’ve ever worked for.” 

The maestro was better.

Shut up. 

If the manager could’ve smiled and hugged her tightly for the compliment he desperately needed, Jekyll was convinced he would have. He raised his arms to hug her, but his attention was pulled away as Pen asked where Mallo and Jatayu were. Realizing they died in the fight, Dante began to turn back the clock to bring them back just as he did with Jekyll. 

Jekyll stood back, unable to bear the sight of Dante in pain as the other sinners slowly formed back together. 

So… about the IDs, Hyde. 

The voice in her head stopped, heaving a sigh of frustration before it replied to her in a harsh tone. What about them? 

I hate them. I don’t like being locked up and not being able to do anything, Jekyll tried to sound as firm as possible, putting her foot down. 

I agree.

So I– wait. What? Jekyll paused, confused. Was Hyde really siding with her? 

I hated being locked up when you were in the LCCB ID. You probably hated it when I was in The One Who Shall Grip ID. 

Can… can we keep their usage to a minimum? Jekyll pleaded, knowing it would often be in vain, but she took that chance. 

Ask the clockhead. He’s the one who controls that. 

It was Jekyll’s turn to sigh in frustration. Dante has a name. You should respect him as such. 

Whatever. My point still stands. 

Dante walked over to Pen, about to rewind the clock for him next. 

The hunter put up his hand in refusal. “I’ll keep myself on my toes, Dante,” he shook his head. 

The manager looked relieved strangely. “Alright, I trust you.” He glanced at the rest of the group, doing a head count and still refusing to revive Mark. “Right then… it seems that the hallway is cleared. We could either go down the hall and explore the rest of that area… or we can go that way.” His hand lifted to point at the unlocked door mirroring the abnormality containment room. The flames on his head gently cleared away the darkness, but it added an ominous feeling to his appearance. 

Pen’s walk was more graceful and quiet than usual. He walked down the hall and gently approached a door that likely took them back to the entrance. His spear provided him with enough light to observe the door. “Is this another abnormality containment unit?” He asked Dante, his white hair glistening in the darkness. 

“N-No,” Dante stammered, still standing by the door in the middle of the hallway. “It shouldn’t be; I believe is a normal doorway.” 

Pen sighed, relaxing his posture and letting out a shaky breath. “What a relief…” 

It was odd how Pen was so nervous about abnormalities after facing one. What… happened after I died? 

Hyde was quick to answer, as always. They probably suffered without my help. 

Didn’t you fight next to the abnormality? 

That’s why they now fear me. Hyde smirked with delight. It was perfect. 

“Mallo, you have Mark’s body, right?” The manager asked in the darkness. 

There was a grunt before a shadow was hoisted over a shoulder. Mallo stepped into Dante’s circle of light and nodded silently, smoking a cigarette. Mark’s body started to smell, but it didn’t seem to bother the tall woman. 

Everyone nodded simultaneously when Dante confirmed everyone was ready and proceeded to move forward. Lenore and Pen were eager to explore the door at the end of the hall. No one batted an eye toward the door in the middle of the hall, despite Jekyll having an uncanny feeling that was where they were supposed to go. Doesn’t this door just loop around to the room Mallo dragged me out of? 

That’s not important right now, Hyde eagerly tried to peer through Jekyll’s eye. We will likely face combat again. Talk to the clockhead about the IDs before he changes us into one of yours. 

Or yours, Jekyll retorted. You’re not the only one that matters. 

Dante followed behind the rest of the party. It was one of the few chances Jekyll could talk to the manager before others wished to eavesdrop. Jatayu followed close behind him, his gaze more focused on the darkness behind the group rather than what lay ahead. 

Jekyll once more entered Dante’s circle of light, immediately feeling relieved the moment the manager turned to face her. “Dante?” Jekyll began, clenching her arm as if she struggled to find her words. 

“Is everything okay, Jekyll?” Dante reached out his hand toward her, before gently placing it back by his side. He shoved his other hand into his pocket, the clock silently ticking in the background. 

Jekyll stared at Dante’s face, trying to look him in the eyes… or what she thought were his eyes. “Can I ask a favor on behalf of me and Hyde?” 

“Certainly!” Dante nodded slowly. “How may I help you two?” 

Choose your next words carefully, Jekyll. 

Jekyll inhaled a nervous breath, clenching her hands together. She hated how much her hands shook the moment she even got a little bit nervous. “Can you…” Exhaling, her next words became a mutter. “Not turn us into IDs unless it’s absolutely necessary?” 

To the doctor’s surprise, the manager agreed. “Of course,” his voice was more understanding than Jekyll expected. “Will you be fine fighting on your own, then?” 

N-No I… 

I will, Hyde rolled her eyes. Fighting is easy. Leave that to me. 

“Hyde will be fine…” Jekyll stammered nervously, not liking the idea of fighting herself. “We just… both don’t like being silenced by the IDs… unable to say anything…” 

“I don’t understand what it is like to share a mind,” Dante inquired. “So I will keep in mind that is how both of you feel whilst using them.” 

Jekyll bowed in thanks once more, stepping aside and gesturing toward the rest of the group. “After you, manager.” 

“Thank you!” The hint of glee in his voice was reassuring. He paced down the hall with his head held high. 

The doctor followed suit, pacing behind the manager and falling in sync with the veteran. Anxiety crept up her back like a spider ready to devour her. She grazed her hand along her paintbrush before clenching it, watching the veteran’s movements as he too, nervously followed behind Dante. Hyde, what did you do to the group? 

Nothing of your concern. 

Jekyll didn’t believe her. She stuttered over her words as she tried to grab his attention discretely. “J-J-Jatayu?” 

He turned his attention toward her, his eyes half-opened and his body posture on alert. “Hmm?” He greeted Jekyll with a smile. “Yes, Ms. Jekyll?” 

“Did…” Jekyll sighed, clenching her arms as her footsteps echoed along the metal hallway. “Did Hyde hurt any of you guys?” 

The door at the end of the hallway swung open thanks to Pen’s force. He stepped aside as Lenore peered into the new room whilst Mallo watched from afar, smoking silently. Pen soon joined Lenore’s side, trying to make sense of the darkness that hid the room’s entities. 

“It wasn’t of Hyde’s violation I like to think, the entity had… abilities,” Jatayu responded, his voice low and wavering as memories flooded his mind. He stared at the ground as he slowly followed the manager, the only thing glimmering about his presence being the silver ring on his finger. 

Jekyll shivered. Hyde!

What are you freaking out for now? Hyde rolled her eyes, tuning back into the conversation. I kicked everyone’s butts before they staggered and killed me. 

Why would you do that?! Jekyll felt her breath quickening, unable to process that she attacked her coworkers. 

I was protecting the bird, simple as that. 

A what?!

Don’t worry about it, Hyde sighed. I attacked the bird anyway, I used one of those… uh… EGO things we got back from the bus. Anyway, where is Mallo? 

Jekyll didn’t like how fast Hyde was changing the conversation. Wait, why do you want Mallo? We didn’t finish–

She killed us. 

But–

I just want to talk to her, Hyde snapped, clearly done with the conversation. It is not your business.

It is my business! You’re literally using my body!

So? 

“Oi! You’re on private property!” A new, harsh voice echoed from the new room. “Get out of here, now!” 

Pen jumped back, his face draining color by the second as he hid behind Lenore. Jekyll could tell he was horrified by the voice; it somehow struck a nerve. His hands rested on Lenore’s shoulders. Pen peeked over her shoulder, muttering something to her. 

Lenore didn’t seem to mind and proceeded with her standard questioning. “Are you an employee of L Corp?” She asked calmly with a hint of spite, clasping her hands together as her eyes adjusted to the light. 

“Nah mate,” the voice replied. “We are just the people who own this place now.” 

Pen grabbed his spear as subtly as he could. He was ready to fight the voice that spooked him. His eyes slanted as they peered into the room.

Mallo still didn’t seem to bother with what was happening. She carried a weird, awkward posture as Mark’s body hung over her shoulder. She was purposely away from the group and refused to engage. 

“Worry not, Jekyll.” The veteran took a step in front of her, readying his tanfas in a protective position. He glanced back, his look was solemn. “It was not your fault, okay?” 

Jekyll’s hand went up to feel her face. Did I look worried? How did he know? 

Idiot. Focus on what’s going on. 

“You said this wasn’t a containment unit, Dante!” Pen shouted. He stared at the manager. Fear claimed his soul. 

“What?” This caught Dante by surprise. He quickened his pace to meet them. “It shouldn’t be!” 

“Oi, bum! Get ye and yer pussy outta here! Don’t make me say it again!” The new voice rang with a low, disgruntled threat. The tone of his voice conveyed his stance on the manner; he was not joking. 

The threat certainly caught Mallo’s attention; she finally got off the wall and wandered over to the rest of the group. 

It became difficult for Jekyll to see what was happening the moment Dante fled her side, having been her light source. When the manager joined the hunter’s side, he sighed in relief. “Ah… it’s just two humans…” Pen relaxed, letting go of Lenore and stepping to her side. “We have business here.” He informed the intruders quickly and concisely. 

They were not buying it. “Yeah? So do we!” 

That’s a second voice, Jekyll dared to go past Jatayu’s tanfa to observe the two intruders. She wanted to see a face she could match with the grumpy male voice. 

“Then why don’t we both just get along with our own businesses?” Pen continued. 

“You’re trespassing on ours!” The first voice shouted with anger. It was deeper and more hostile than the second voice, but both of them had the same intention. 

It seemed that Mallo had enough. She stepped forward out of the shadows. Her glare told everything she was feeling; giving an ‘are you stupid’ look to Lenore and Pen before she decided to speak. “Why are you conversing with them?” The voice and tone in which she spoke came off as harsh and intimidating.

Lenore, however, did not show any sign of fear. 

The second figure in the shadows snapped his fingers, trying to make his voice lower. “Come on, we don’t have all day now, we get on with our work and you piss off, or we will gut you like a fish!” 

Mallo’s face filled with an emotion Jekyll knew well; fear. She stepped back. Jekyll found it odd that she was almost intimidated by a simple voice that barked and had no bite. 

Now you’re talking, the thought seemed to please Hyde. Everyone is bark and no bite. This is why we bite first, and bark after. 

We are not dogs… 

It’s a metaphor, Jekyll.

You don’t need to tell me what a metaphor is. I majored in English. 

Amongst the rest of your useless degrees? Hyde scoffed. 

Jekyll rolled her eyes. You wouldn’t understand. You didn’t even get one degree.

Hyde snapped. I am the best artist in M Corp’s Ring. I majored in art with a specialization in blood preservation and murder. It is you who is the pushover fool.

You’re just a killer. You are an evil entity. 

And you are the creator of me; the color in your life. 

“I believe you gentlemen have a very poor understanding of the situation,” Lenore’s raised voice caught the attention of the doctor and the painter. 

“Oh really now, huh?” The first voice scowled, roaring like a lion. “What makes you say that?” 

A facade of calm anger seizes hold of Lenore’s expressions. “You are interfering with a business that is a far, far higher power than yourselves. Leave, or so help me not, may you be purged like the scum that you are on this circle of hell.” Her aura was the one of the intimidating One Who Grips, but it borrowed from the many memories of many other versions of herself. 

The two men responded, backing up being intimidated by her words. 

She would have a field day with split shards. Jekyll couldn’t tell if it was she or Hyde who thought that. Jekyll discarded the thought as she took a step towards the door, straining her eyes into the darkness to catch a glimpse of the threatening figures. 

Both men wear teal-colored green attire, with their right arms replaced with a strange, augmented… thing. It looked unholy, possessing a decaying color that enveloped all of their limbs up to their shoulders. Through their captive arm, a hole goes through their hands up to their shoulders as well. It glowed softly. The same strange genetic mutation also occupies their left hands and wrists. 

The taller one was the owner of the deeper, rustier voice. His hair was black and slicked back across his skull. His face was in a permanent scowl that was difficult to see amid the present darkness.

The second man was shorter, his hair a messy brown that covered his silver eyes. His gaze was harsh, but his facial expression was what caught Jekyll’s eye.

Hyde caught her own throat. L-Lucas? 

No. Jekyll sighed. It’s… it’s not Lucas. 

Hyde was silent, and… emotional. Jekyll searched her memories for why Hyde would be so caught up on the name. She knew the second demon syndicate’s face complexion looked strikingly similar to Lucas's, but there was no way it could actually be him. 

If I see him again, I’ll kill him.

You’ve always said that, Hyde. Jekyll sighed. But… it is likely he’s not alive anymore. We wouldn’t know. 

I didn’t get to paint with his blood. 

He would’ve let you. 

The two went silent again, the memories flooding through their head. Jekyll stared the second man down, her hand gripping the paintbrush. Despite the history, she felt oddly indifferent about it. Killing Lucas’ father was not a kill she regretted. It was the only one she thanked Hyde for. 

Thanks, again, Hyde. 

For murdering Sir Danves Crew? Yeah, whatever. 

It… Jekyll gripped her paintbrush tighter, anger boiling inside her. It was for the better. 

Do you think… Hyde paused, her voice in Jekyll’s head wavering. Do you think Lucas ever found out? 

I… Jekyll stopped a tear, wiping her face as she recalled the man. I don’t know. 

“Dante, step back,” Pen instructed, readying his harpoon.

“Okay,” Dante glanced back at the doctor and the veteran. “Jekyll, Jatayu, we need you up here.” 

Hyde, Jekyll begged, obeying Dante. Pull yourself together, we need to fight.

Hyde obliged, staring down the enemies. They’re not mechanical… I can still beat them to shreds. 

That… Jekyll opened her mouth to object. Yeah, okay. 

“Maybe you’ll find out how to use this another day,” The first man turned his head toward Pen, gesturing to his green arm. “But that day is not today.” 

“Stay out of this room, we are dealing with business.” The second one tried to raise his voice but stammered over his words the moment Lenore pierced his soul with her gaze. 

The door shut in front of the party’s face, but not by the syndicate members. Mallo gently closed the door and glanced at the rest of the party. “Not our problem anymore,” she stated.

Lenore stood there in disbelief. “What?” 

Now hold on, Hyde frowned, disappointed. That Maut guy ordered us to exterminate them. It is our problem. Let’s sweep the floor with them!

“Hyde, not now,” Jekyll said out loud. She covered her mouth immediately. Thankfully, no one in the group seemed to notice or care. Oh, I keep forgetting they already know about you.

Tough, Jekyll. 

Mallo thought to herself, staring at the floor before forcing her gaze toward Jatayu, adjusting Mark’s body over her shoulder. 

How has she not gotten tired of carrying his dead weight? Jekyll followed her gaze to stare at the veteran.

Jatayu was on high alert, staring down the hall they just walked into. His head rotated at every small sound, and his tanfas were in a battle-ready position. He took the position of being the rear guard of the group as if it were his duty to do so. He guarded everyone like if he didn’t, they would all die. 

Jekyll shuddered to herself. Is he guarding us because he didn’t guard his family on that wedding night? Is it only out of guilt? 

Guilt is a terrible driving force of action, Hyde rolled her eyes. But a driving action nonetheless. 

Don’t criticize the man. 

Why not? Hyde challenged. Going through the memory of your conversation with him, it’s honestly pathetic. He’s trying to find his niece who was kidnapped by a syndicate. There is no way she’s alive after all this time. Who was the idiot who taught him hope? 

Hyde–

Jekyll was interrupted as she stepped out of the way when Mallo walked past her. Mallo deliberately ignored her presence as she confronted Jatayu, almost stepping over her. She refused to look at her and acknowledge her, having an awkward vibe around Jekyll. 

Jekyll wasn’t surprised by such action, and how it ticked Hyde off. This motherf–

“We are supposed to eradicate threats, correct?” Mallo asked Jatayu and Dante at the same time.

Dante was the first to reply, seeing Jatayu was busy. “Uhm, yes, that is what Maut said per our contract with their company.” 

“Do the demon syndicate members count as a threat?” Her eyebrow raised, giving a pathetic look at the closed door. 

“As long as they are not in the way, I suppose not…” Dante suggested. “It depends if we want to terminate them and how we wish to.” 

Jatayu kept his head facing the hall, but his eyes turned to Dante. “I wouldn’t mind murdering them.” 

Mallo pointed at the door behind her. “Break a leg, I guess.” 

“Dante, permission to expel these putrid demons from existence?” Jatayu’s voice dripped with untold rage. A fire burned inside his eyes. 

The compassion Dante conveyed solely with his flames shocked Jekyll, but he shook his head. “It is not worth it right now. We have worse things to deal with. For example, we haven’t seen that red thing that beheaded the corpses yet.” 

The sadness on Jatayu’s face triggered something inside the party. Lenore was the first to act upon her empathy. “The demon syndicate members seem to be hiding something in there, are we sure we don’t want to figure out what they are protecting?” 

“I do not sense the golden bough, which is what we are after here,” Dante reminded everyone of the goal at hand. “Did anyone see anything important?” 

“It was pitch black; we ordered them to leave but they refused to. It seems the conclusion is obvious,” Lenore gestured to the door, a small chaotic gleam flashing in her eyes. 

“They are not our prey, but what if they attack us later on?” Pen added. 

“I agree with Pen,” Jatayu turned around, butting into the conversation. He seemed eager to convince the manager. “It’s totally not because I hate these people…” 

“Hate is a driving force,” Mallo confirmed, cracking a smile. “Let me suggest something, Dante. Jatayu and another volunteer stay behind to clear them out, and the rest of us continue forward.” 

“I volunteer!” Jekyll shouted, raising her hand. She surprised herself with her immediate response, but it seemed she and Hyde agreed on the action despite their different reasons. Jekyll faced Jatayu and nodded. “A promise is a promise, and I plan to keep mine. I will go with you.” 

A promise is a promise, Hyde said in a mocking tone. Do you know how stupid that sounds? I’m just ready to kill some people! Let’s do this! LET ME BONK THEM–

There was a moment of silence after Jekyll’s outbursts before Lenore and Pen also volunteered. 

Dante ticked a few times before speaking. “I suppose it would be best for everyone to go in since we have the numbers.” 

“We can kill them faster than deciding to kill them,” Lenore joked, pulling back strands of her hair and putting it into her ponytail. 

The matter was settled. Everyone stepped forward in front of the door, conversing amongst themselves a strategy for entering into the battlefront. Pen decided to go in first, with Lenore and Mallo following after him. Jekyll decided to go in after Jatayu, residing in the last place. 

Lenore leaned back, snapping to get Jekyll’s attention. “Hey, Jekyll,” she said with a sly grin on her face. “Would you bring out my right hand? We would be godly in this fight if I had her.” 

Hell yeah. Let me have the ID out. The One Who Shall Grip. 

But– “W-Will I be normal outside of combat…?” Jekyll stammered, squeezing her arms. I don’t want to be trapped again. 

Don’t be a baby. Let me fight and then we can return to normal.

But last time–

“That’s a question for the masked one,” Lenore gestured to Dante.

The doctor wasn’t able to process everything in such a short notice. The manager seemed to understand. “You don’t have to equip it if you don’t want to.” 

“They were scary,” Pen added. “But you returned to normal after the fight ended…” 

Mallo shifted uncomfortably at the mention of Hyde’s Nagul Und Hammer ID. 

Come on, Jekyll. Hyde’s voice suddenly became soothing and alluring. Hyde always talked this way when it came to manipulation, and Jekyll knew she fell for it every time. This way, you will be spared from the entire fight and don’t have to witness it, no? Surely, you don’t want to see that Lucas-like guy die under your feet.

“Oh, since you’re going to be alone, Dante…” Pen tapped his spear on the ground. It lit up the area around Dante, giving him a shield. “This won’t last long, but it’s just in case…” 

“Oh, thank you Pen,” Dante acknowledged the hunter before turning back to the doctor. 

“Okay,” Jekyll sighed, being persuaded. “You can… you can change to the ID, Dante.” 

Wonderful. That’s what I’m talking about!

“Are you sure you want to?” Dante pressed, his head tilting to the side. 

Yes. Yes, you want to, Jekyll. Hyde continued. Don’t give room for him to plant doubt in your decision. 

“I’d… rather not see the battle anyway…” Jekyll clenched her arm and glanced to the floor. Her breathing hitched, and she closed her eyes to prepare for the change. 

“As long as you are okay with it,” Dante slowly pulled out the cards from his jacket, shuffling through them. “I’ll make sure to turn you back into your original once the combat is done.” 

Dante raised the card in front of Jekyll and flung it from head to toe. Jekyll felt the clothes on her back changing into the familiar ID, her black coat curling into the white cape drenched with blood on The One Who Shall Grip. Her brown eye faded into nothing, and her red eye became the most prominent as the transformation concluded. 

You were always a fool to trust me. Hyde’s thoughts became the primary force as she took control.

Jekyll opened her mouth to say something but was caught by the force of unknown chains in Hyde’s mind, stuffing every thought and voice that could’ve come from her. 

By the time Hyde adjusted to fronting, she spotted Mallo also in a new ID, specifically one that associated with the whalers in U Corp. Her coat was long and green, and her harpoon was shorter and bulkier than one similar to Pens. She wore a cap on her head and held a fancy cigar. However, despite the authoritative outfit, Mallo’s posture became slouched and timid. She dropped Mark’s body and left it on the floor. 

Hyde didn’t pay any more attention to her before she faced Lenore. “My gratitude, Lenore,” her smirk was wild with psychopaths. “Are you ready to annihilate these scum from the earth?” 

Lenore returned her evil smile. “It will be a pleasure to fight by your side instead of against you this time.” 

Hyde clamped her mouth shut, clearing her throat. Yeah… we don’t talk about that… 

Lenore noticed her reaction and her smile faded. “Hey, no hard feelings? There are many heretics we can turn our wrath against together.” 

Hyde forced a smile. “Very well.” She raised her foot and slammed it on the door, causing it to fly across the dark room as its hinges clattered onto the ground. A circular band of light surrounded Hyde as fire seeped from her fists around her ax. She charged in, analyzing the enemies immediately. 

The two men shot up from the floor, fear filling their faces as they looked behind their backs. “We told you to leave? How could you?!” The darker man shouted in rage. Each of them ready attacks against Pen, who had walked the closest to them after Hyde obliterated the door. 

Pen saw their positions of attack, and it only forced a smile on his face. “Don’t you wanna get your heads cut off?” 

“Remember when I told you you’ll find out what these things do?!” The first syndicate raised his arm as it slowly glowed a black color. “You’re about to find out!” 

The hunter wasn’t amused. “They capture souls?” 

The first syndicate member stammered. “W-Well… yes… You’re not supposed to guess!” He seemed frustrated by the comment alone.

Pen’s voice did not sweeten from his dry tone. “Wow.” He adjusted his white hair. 

Mallo chuckled to herself. “We ruined your only cool thing.” 

The second syndicate member blazed with fury. “Hell, you’re next!” 

Lenore didn’t give them any more time to rant about destroying the party. She cut off the first man’s attack with her own, sliding her weapon across the arm and hinging it on the man’s shoulder, giving him a good cut. Lenore didn’t hesitate to implant nails into his new wound. 

The first demon syndicate member didn’t have time to cry in pain as Mallo jumped him, forcing her harpoon down his new wound and drawing out his blood.

Hyde readied her stance, unable to stay in place for much longer. The nails and blood made her crazy. Something inside her got more excited to purge the heretic. This ID REALLY likes blood… huh. She wasn’t used to the ecstatic feeling that surged through her veins, but she would use the newfound energy to her advantage. 

“Hah! Did you really think you could stop me before I did something amazing?!” The first syndicate walked off his wound like it was nothing. He smirked with pride as his arm got darker. 

Jatayu’s eyes boiled under his helmet; Hyde could tell by how he carried his hammer. He lunged for the first man. However, his rage quickly subsided the moment they clashed. Jatayu swung his hammer again, but the enemy caught the hammer and flung the base of it away from him. 

Before anyone could react, the green arm was placed in Jatayu’s face and blasted a black mist at him. Jatayu staggered back, rubbing his face in agony. 

“You fool!” The man laughed, the wound on his arm healing. 

Pen’s eyes widened. “I need to set up barriers, stat.” He started fiddling with his harpoon.

Hyde narrowed her eyes, insulted they would attack Jatayu so cruelly. You’re gonna pay for that. Her feet left the ground as she slammed the first syndicate into the wall. She raised her ax and slashed it across his torso, power surging through her fanatic state. 

The shorter, brown-haired syndicate member raised his arm toward Mallo, forcing Hyde to dodge and get back in line. “I’m going to make good on my promise. I’m attacking you because you made me less cool!” 

How pathetic. Hyde rolled her eyes. You never were cool. 

Pen shot forward to the first syndicate, driving his spear into his shoulder. The first man staggered, crumbling to the floor. 

Mallo’s smirk only widened as she lunged for the second man, clashing with her harpoon before throwing it towards him. It grazed his arm and made him real back. However, the syndicate member took this attack and stabbed her in the shoulder in return. He laughed maniacally as he did so, his eyes crazed with insanity. 

Pen tapped the ground with his spear, and light particles floated around everyone, giving them a temporary shield. He backed up as Jatayu turned to him.

“Thank you, workshop worker,” Jatayu put the flap of his helmet over his eyes. “I shall smite in your steed.” 

Hyde glanced at the staggered man on the floor. “Don’t take my kill,” she hissed at Jatayu. 

Jatayu nodded in obedience. “I shall prepare him for you.” He quoted gently before raising his hammer. He let the weight of gravity carry his hammer down onto the helpless man. Bones breaking in his body echoed through the room as the hammer crushed his body and soul. 

There’s like nothing left of him, Hyde frowned. He’s so dead already. 

Jatayu uses the shock of the syndicate’s coworker to do a surprise attack on him, swinging his hammer across the man’s chest. 

Hyde didn’t pay any attention to that aftermath; Jatayu had prepared the man well for her. She stepped slowly, the chaos around her dimming as her approach forced the man to make eye contact with her. 

He coughed in pain. “Please… I’ll give you my soul… spare… me…” 

Hyde smiled, laughing to herself. She swung her ax in her hand as she looked down at the man. “What fantastic art you will make.” 

The man was helpless as Hyde split the man in two with her ax, her swings scattering his guts across the walls and floors. None of his limbs stayed attached as Hyde swung effortlessly, demolishing any prior form he once had. She didn’t finish until he was a pile of blood and rubble on the floor. 

When she was finished, she stood over his remains, glancing down at her outfit. It was difficult to tell it was originally white; one could’ve sworn it was red with white highlights with how much blood rested on her chest and hands. What was that… 400 damage, or something? She sighed. Where’s Jekyll with her calculations when you need her? 

The wild crazed look in her eyes did not subside as she turned to the second man. I am going to enjoy this. She sneered as she pointed her ax at the syndicate member who looked like Lucas. “You’re next.” 

The second syndicate member, having watched his coworker be obliterated into shreds, trembled in fear, gripping his arm to his chest. He tried to speak, but all that came out were anxious mumbles as he quaked in his own boots. 

“Huh, that could’ve been me earlier…” Pen shuddered, staring at the remains on the floor before staring at Hyde. He gulped pretty hard, thinking back to the abnormality fight. 

Lenore wore a proud smirk. “Very well done, Hyde, I have taught you well.” 

Remember your place, Lenore. We are not the same in this universe. 

Mallo mumbled something about being too messy as she shook her head. She glanced toward Jatayu, who started to shout with pride. “Congratulations O One Who Shall Grip! You have done us proud, showing the might of Nagul Und Hammer! It is an honor to serve you!” He set his hammer aside and clapped profusely. 

Hyde raised her head high, returning to the line with pride before facing the final foe. He didn’t take his eyes off her, and he trembled in fear. 

That will be you one day, Lucas. She raised her ax, unable to force her usual, chaotic smile. 

“We should capture this man,” Pen proposed before everyone could prep themselves. He took a step towards the second syndicate member, gesturing to the pile of blood next to him. “You see what happened to your pal? Lay down your weapon, and this won’t happen to you.” 

The man shook his head, squeaking. “Y-You think I’m gonna b-believe that after watching what that maniac did?! I don’t even stand a chance!” 

“Is it not better than getting beheaded by the monster?” Pen argued.

Hyde didn’t necessarily connect the dots that he wasn’t referring to her. She started to laugh, that crazed desire for death in her eyes. 

Pen tapped his harpoon on the floor again, providing another temporary shield around the party. “You’re not gonna hurt anyone here with me around,” he said calmly. 

The man looked at each of the party members. He cowered in feat at the bloodthirsty Jatayu, the stoic Mallo, the Lenore who threatened him earlier, and the Hyde who couldn’t stop laughing whilst imagining his demise. He slowly lowered his weapon, turning off his arm. His face was pale, and his pupils ceased to exist. He slowly stood up before he turned his foot to run. 

“Wait, do not run,” Pen urged. “You’ll… die.” 

It was too late. The man had turned his heel and started sprinting down the hall. 

Mallo was faster. She dashed after him, throwing her harpoon with skill. It pierced the man’s chest and pinned him to the floor. She rested from her position and walked over to him, the bloodthirst amongst the party having filled her own eyes. 

The man screamed in pain, withering as his body sunk into the sharp end of the harpoon. He gasped for breath. He tried to stop breathing as Mallo loomed over him. 

“Spoils don’t escape during the hunt,” Mallo hissed, stepping on his chest and pressing it further into the harpoon. 

The man screamed in pain. “What the hell are you hunting?!” He cried, his whole body shaking in fright. 

As the rest of the party circled him, Pen questioned him. “You won’t die if you help us,” he informed. “What is cutting off all the corpse's heads?” 

The man only replied with confused noises. 

Pen sighed. “No recourse.” 

“It’s the big thing in the chair!” The man blabbered, tears streaming down his eyes. “The red dress woman, with a big red eye in the big red chair!” 

“A woman?” Pen thought out loud. “Are we not hunting abnormalities? Does this sound familiar to anyone?” He looked around to the rest of the party, before addressing the most obvious person. “Jatayu?” 

“A red woman? No, I do not remember a red woman,” Jatayu shook his head.

Hyde stepped closer to the man, holding up her ax to his throat. She stared daggers into his soul as her feet swayed side to side, getting impatient. Where is the order to kill him? Her smile was dark, her chaotic eyes darting across the man’s complexion. He really does look like Lucas… 

The man started to yap again out of fright. “I-I know it sounds silly, but we were supposed to protect the treasure! We have to obey her! She killed the two that didn’t!” His hand shook as he lifted it, pointing at the other corpses on the floor. 

Mallo raised her eyebrows. “Treasure?” 

The guy swallowed. “Oh no…” 

“Tell me more about this treasure,” she smirked, leaning down to meet his eyes much like Hyde was. 

He mumbled over the blood pouring from his lips. “I can’t…” 

“Why not?” Mallo’s face was captured by annoyance. She flipped her black hair behind her shoulder. “No one is here.” 

“If I say it, I’ll die before it even becomes a thought!” 

“There’s cards on the bodies,” Pen had walked away from the man, observing one of the corpses on the floor. 

“The hell do you mean cards?!” The syndicate member whimpered in pain as he strained to look, curiosity getting the better of him. 

“There are heart cards on all of the beheaded corpses,” Pen mentioned. 

“There’s a few more corpses to check over there,” Mallo points to the other side of the room.

The man objected. “That i-is disrespectful–” 

Mallo shoves her foot into the guy’s chest, pushing him further into the spear. He yelped in pain, his scream being cut off as his eyes bulged from his skull. “I don’t care,” Mallo hissed into his ear. “Shut up.” 

The man painfully grasped for air as Mallo walked over to the corpse Lenore was investigating. 

Pen tilted his head with a grim expression on his face, staring at the captive. “Sorry about them, they have a short fuse…” 

Hyde leaned on her ax, staring the man down. How is this man still alive? He should have been dead by now, especially with his organs being impaled… 

She glanced away from the captive only when a soft rustling noise interrupted the silence. She spotted Lenore picking up another card of hearts before all the cards from Mark’s dead body traveled across the floor to meet with the other card in Lenore’s hand. 

Mallo raised her eyebrow. “What?” 

Pen came back to the syndicate member and lifted his head so he could see. “Does that not look familiar to you?” 

“A-All I say were white… things flying through the air…” He muttered, his intake of air becoming more sparse. 

Pen grunted, taking a step towards Lenore and snatching the cards before showing them in front of the demon syndicate member’s eyes. 

“Red… hearts…” he coughed. “Like the woman… she has… red hearts too.”

“All the corpses have cards on them,” Pen informed. “So you must have a card too, I think.” 

“Does that mean we get to turn him into a corpse?” Hyde’s eyes lit up with glee, standing up straight from leaning over on her ax.

“What? No! I… I don’t… have a card…” The captive coughed up even more blood, which sent a surge of emotions through Hyde’s veins. 

“Is she dead?” Pen questioned further, his eyes narrowing. “The woman you work for.” 

“What? There are two women… one of them is my boss… and the other… is the heart lady…” The man used the last of his strength to raise his head to meet Pen’s eyes. “Why am I telling you this?” 

“No, go on,” Mallo glanced up from the corpse she was looting. “Tell us more.” 

“Am… I going to die if I do…?” 

You’re already going to die by the looks of it… Hyde flattened her face. 

“No,” Mallo lied through her teeth. “Not if you tell us the information we need.” 

He wasn’t convinced. “I don’t… trust that one…” 

“Well, you better hope you trust me!” The woman stood up and walked over to him, grabbed him by his wavy brown hair, and pulled his head up, the blood on her hands coating his curly locks. 

Hyde smirked, eager to join in. “It won’t take too much time to gut you like your partner over there,” she gestured to the pile of rubble she created with the man’s body earlier. “And my bloodthirst isn’t satisfied… so who is it going to be? You, or your boss?” 

Under immense pressure, the man simply started to wail as his blood trickled down his cheeks. He looked disgusting and was barely clinging to life. 

“We can test the theory right now,” Pen added.

That didn’t stop the syndicate member’s wailing. “Huh?” 

“We can see if a card appears on him when he dies,” Pen pointed to the beheaded corpses and then to the corpse Hyde killed. “I would do it… but it’s a little too bloody for me.” 

When the man tried to protest, Hyde found no interest in hearing his pleas. She stepped away from the man, the aura of light around her shifting as she explored the dark room before stumbling upon the corpse she made. Free supplies, at least. She kneeled and opened a few jars in her pockets, collecting the interesting colors she could salvage from his guts and blood. I need to paint that one thing for the seasonal auction… 

She overheard the conversation with the captive as she did so. “One last thing,” Pen’s voice raised in volume. “Who do you work for?” 

“Who do you think?!” The man gasped, lifting his diseased green arm.

“What do I think?” A new rage filled Pen’s soul. “I think you’re going to die if you don’t tell me.” 

The man grunted as Mallo stepped on him again. “His… name… is…” 

Before he could say anything else, the green arm and wrist on his body lit up his whole body. They glowed brightly before they exploded inside of the man’s limbs. The man uttered a silent scream of agony before his body melted into a corrosive green goop onto the floor. He had melted from the inside out. 

“Wait, tell us!” Pen urgently asked. 

“It’s too late, he’s dead.” Mallo sighed, lifting her ID harpoon away from his goop. 

“Perfect,” Hyde chuckled to herself. “I won’t have to threaten him to not follow us anymore.” 

The tension in the room subsided; Jatayu opened the door to make sure Dante was okay before letting him inside. Everyone’s posture relaxed now that the threat was eliminated. 

Pen held his hand up to his chin, staring at the floor. “The demon leader is a woman, then…” he theorized. 

“It’s not the same person as the one causing the decapitations though,” Mallo corrected, joining Pen.

“So… it’s two different women we have to defeat.” Pen countered, trying to pull the pieces together. 

Jekyll had a conversation with Jatayu about this since they seem to have a lovely history… Hyde searched her memories. Hmm… I can’t recall it. Oh well, time to make a scene~ “Isn’t it obvious?” Hyde sealed the last bottle of blood as she raised her arms, adjusting her ax before she stood. “The man himself would know!” She pointed to Jatayu, who was looting a corpse. He didn’t find anything. 

Pen continued to mutter under his breath, disregarding Hyde’s comment. “It’s a woman of hearts…” 

These motherf– “Jatayu!” 

Jatayu shot up, his head turning around on high alert before his gaze met Hyde’s. “Yes, my worship?” 

Hyde smirked proudly. It’s been a long time since someone has called me that. I quite prefer it. She opened another jar before scooping up some of the green goo from the second syndicate member’s remains. “Do you recall the name of the demon syndicate leader… guy… thing?” She waved her hand around carelessly, trying to figure out what words to use. 

 Dante shuffled through the ID cards, and waved Jatayu’s base ID, over him, returning him to normal. It revealed the agony his face was in, and how hard he was gripping his tanfas. “Do you mean the guy that has caused so much pain and suffering in my life? The people who took my entire family away from me? The duo that took my joy and happiness? The one that I blame the most for everything that happened to me, and the one I hate most? No, I do not know him, except I do.” 

Shut up with your sob story and get on with it. “Yeah, yeah, that son of a bastard, what’s his name again?” 

The veteran shuddered as he uttered their names. “Ravana, the demon king… His right-hand woman, Nishakara.” 

Pff, sounds lame. Hyde rolled her eyes at their names. Sounds like they put letters into a can, shook it up, and randomly chose them. 

“Oh, so that’s who the syndicate member was working for,” Pen nodded, finally understanding. 

“In a way…” Jatayu confirmed, sighing. “I would love to tell you as much as you would love to hear right now, but I did find something on this corpse that might be more important.” 

Most of the party paused what they were doing to look at the card Jatayu was holding up. It was the ten of hearts. The silence helped Dante go around and change everyone back to their base IDs, one by one. 

“Why didn’t that card magnetize like the others?” Mallo asked, approaching Jatayu before taking the card to look at it. 

“Maybe it will for you,” Pen suggested, also curious. 

Mallo handed the card back to Jatayu. The veteran shook the card; nothing happened. He grunted, shaking it again and throwing it on the floor. The moment the card touches the metal ground, the rest of the cards come flying towards it, shuffling themselves nicely and in order as they all rested. 

“It worked,” Mallo thought out loud. 

“I don’t know why they do that, though…” Pen sighed. 

“The cards likely have nothing to do with their gimmick,” Jatayu explained. “It is probably caused by magic or an ability of an abnormality.” 

“Is that abnormality the red woman the enemy was talking about?” Pen inquired. “He said she had one big red eye, with a red dress and a red chair… It doesn’t necessarily sound like a human unless they lost an eye.” 

Hyde shot a glare at Pen. Watch your next words carefully. I have one eye. 

Pen didn’t seem to notice. He stared after Mallo who started to drag Mark’s body in. 

“Hyde!” Dante interrupted her, approaching the One Who Shall Grip quickly. “Are you ready to change back into your base ID?” 

Hyde transferred her glare from the hunter to the manager. “Why? I’m free. I don’t have to worry about that sad excuse for air.” 

Dante paused, standing still before shuffling through the cards. “I’m… going to bring back Jekyll now.” 

Before Hyde could react, Dante discarded the card quickly, transforming Hyde back into her base ID. However, the only thing that changed were her clothes and Jekyll returning in her head. She had lost so much sanity mid-battle, she was already fronting in the base ID. She turned her paintbrush in her hands before crossing her arms. “Real mature, clockface.” 

What… is it over? Jekyll asked as if she woke up from being passed out for a long time. 

“O-Oh,” Dante stammered, backing away. “I forgot, about the… multiple personalities…” 

There’s only two of us, idiot. 

Don’t call Dante an idiot, Jekyll begged, immediately getting on the scene. He’s doing his best. 

Shut up. Hyde disregarded Jekyll’s commentary, placing the jars she collected into her jacket pockets. 

“He mentioned a treasure,” Pen’s words snapped Hyde back into the previous conversation. 

Dante also joined in, having turned everyone back into their base IDs. “They did, yes. Perhaps they are talking about the golden bough?” 

“Did you feel it resonating here?” Pen asked. “I thought it wasn’t here, but they could be guarding it elsewhere…” 

Dante spotted Mallo finally succeeding in dragging Mark’s body through the doorframe. Her foot went up to kick the door down until she realized the door wasn’t there per Hyde breaking it down earlier. She grumbled to herself before joining the rest of the party. 

“Well, there’s one treasure,” Dante greeted Mallo.

“It’s just part of the hunt,” Mallo glanced at Mark’s body, which had begun to smell over the last few hours. 

“I meant you, but…” Dante sighed, cutting himself off. 

Hyde raised her eyebrow. Dante flirting? That was not on my Q Corp bingo…

We don’t have a Q Corp bingo card. Jekyll sighed.

That’s not the point. 

Pen and Lenore amongst further discussion stepped out of the room and back into the long hallway. Pen shouted Lenore’s name and gestured to explore the remaining sections of the hallway. 

When Hyde’s gaze traveled to Jatayu, she realized his look of agony had not eased since he last spoke. Hm, let’s have some fun, shall we? 

Hyde, no!

“So,” Hyde strolled with pride over to Jatayu, standing in front of the tall man as she rubbed her chin with her blood-soaked hand. “Ravana, eh? That’s the bastard you’re after?” She grinned maliciously, looking him up and down, calculating what she could do to get a reaction out of him. “Enlighten me on what he did to you again, won’t you?” 

Hyde no, don’t pester him like that! Jekyll pleaded, desperately trying to take control. I can tell you the details! I know your intentions, stop!

Hyde simply ignored Jekyll, eyeing Dante and Mallo who were approaching them. Her grin only widened as Jatayu struggled to answer. 

He stammered on his words before sighing and letting it out. “He killed my sister in law… and he stole my niece from our family, on her wedding night…” 

PFFF, Hyde snuffed a laugh, grinning with delight. “Tch, aww…” She forced a frown, tilting her head. “That’s it? Just that, and you’re all worked up about taking revenge on him? That’s so–”

Hyde, don’t you dare. 

Hyde winced, cutting herself off as Jekyll desperately tried to break through. “Shut it, let me talk to h–” 

NO!

As if luck was on Jekyll’s side, Dante rotated the clock, restoring Hyde’s sanity. Hyde couldn’t hold onto control any longer as she was thrust back into the mind, Jekyll promptly taking over. 

Oh, thank the arbiters… Jekyll immediately switched the monocle to cover her red eye, gasping for breath as her features returned to normal. She glanced up at Jatayu timidly, trying to figure out how to salvage the damage Hyde had done. “Jatayu, I am so sorry about h–” 

“I want you to understand,” Jatayu held up his tanfa to Jekyll’s throat. His eyes were boiling with rage. His arms and shoulders shook as if he were using all his strength to not attack Jekyll on the spot. His voice was low and threatening, and his eyes burned like fire into Jekyll’s soul. “I… care about you as a friend… and I do enjoy Hyde’s presence, I think we can be friends…” He gritted the words through his teeth as if he were trying to convince himself that it was true. “Do. Not. Insult my family, or how I feel about my family ever again.” 

Geez bro, Hyde rolled her eyes inside Jekyll’s head. You should have listened to Mark when you had the chance. Family doesn’t matter. 

What do you mean, Hyde?! That’s not true! Jekyll cowered under Jatayu’s threat, backing away from the tanfa. She clamped her hand over her mouth, trying her best to not let Hyde speak through her. Tears streamed down her face. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry Jatayu I didn’t mean to– She stopped herself, simply nodding to affirm she would never do such a thing again, before running out of the room. 

She almost ran into the doorframe, barely dodging before she ran to the end of the hall, slamming her head against the wall. It echoed throughout the chambers. Jekyll’s heart raced as waterfalls escaped her eyes. She sobbed uncontrollably, sinking to the floor and curling up into a ball. 

Now? You choose to be emotional now? You’re a moron, Jekyll! Hyde insulted, getting angrier by the second. 

Don’t you dare insult his family! What if he did the same to us?! Jekyll sobbed. Family matters! It always had! 

Does it look like I care?! Hyde snapped. He needs to learn the truth! You need to learn it, too!

You don’t actually believe that! Jekyll gasped for air, her sobs getting more intense by the second. Her body shook violently and she got cold fast. The tight pain in Jekyll’s chest felt as if it was eating her alive as she gasped for breath, trying to comprehend everything. How dare you insult his family! Why would you do that?! We miss mom, too!

Why the hell would I miss her?! Hyde shouted, getting more aggressive. I killed her! 

The two went silent as the memory forced its way up. A familiar yet foreign pain seized their mind, shutting both of them up. The night, the lamp, the way she looked so confused in their hands… the memory flashed in front of Jekyll and Hyde as if it was happening in real life. 

Although Jekyll knew she wasn’t standing, it felt like she was. She saw her mother in the grasp of her hand, her knees buckling under the weight in which Hyde held her. Tears streamed down the mother’s face as her gentle hands rested on theirs. “Please… please, my child…” 

“No!” 

Jekyll shuddered as she heard her voice cry out, but she couldn’t stop the brush from slicing their birthgiver into two. Her blood stained the cobblestone walkways, and her scream pierced Jekyll’s ears; it was a sound she would never forget; a feeling she would never be able to wash away… her mother dying in her hands, by her hands. Rain poured heavily in the vision. Jekyll couldn’t remove the sight of her mother’s body lying on the floor, split in two. Her blood covered Jekyll’s hands and feet, staining her outfit. The mother’s eyes stared up at her in horror and grief, and those eyes still haunted her to this very day. 

The vision faded much to Jekyll’s relief, and she was back in the Lobotomy Corporation Facility. She leaned her head against the wall, her eyes wide as they poured more tears down her cheeks. They burned profusely, yet she couldn’t stop crying. Jekyll closed her eyes and hid her face in her arms, curling up further into a ball. Her sobs were silent, and her body shook violently despite her efforts to keep herself pulled together. “Can you not… shut up for once in your life…?” Jekyll muttered through sobs, her chest getting tighter by the moment. The sight of her mom still lingered in her mind, which made her sob even more.

I’ve only said the truth… Hyde’s voice wavered, seeing the vision first-hand. You know what happens… you know the consequences of holding onto hope like Jatayu does… This memory is just a reminder of it.

“Stop talking about it!” Jekyll whispered in pain. “Do not remind me…” 

A soft clacking echoed across the metal floor; the vibrations got stronger and the sound got louder as time went on. Jekyll sensed a presence standing in front of her, looming over her. 

The person sat next to her, taking their time to join them on the floor. A whiff of smoke told Jekyll who it was immediately. “You… okay?” Mallo asked, holding the cigarette between her fingers as she gave her a sympathetic yet melancholic look. 

Jekyll glanced up from her sobbing, her eyes burning from all the tears she wept. She started to speak, but clamped her hand over her mouth, muffling her words. 

Oh hell, it’s her.

Don’t you dare talk right now, remember your place. 

Jekyll looked away from Mallo, staring at the floor... gently shaking her head no in response to the question. She couldn’t raise her head to talk to her, not now. What if Hyde said something awful again? She didn’t want to hurt Mallo like she hurt Jatayu. 

Mallo sits there for a moment, in silence. It took her a few seconds before she spoke again, staring at her cigarette. "Do... you wish to talk about it?" She said, looking back over at Jekyll: her face was calm, and her posture was relaxed. "I'm all ears if you'd like."

Jekyll struggled to find the proper words whilst fighting for control. Her head shook as her lips wavered. "N-No I... I will hurt you too... Hyde will... will..." 

Will what? Say the truth? Hurt their precious little feelings? Grow up. 

She grunted, her eyes shaking wildly as she raised her hands to clench her head. "I don't want to hurt you too..." Jekyll let out another sob, her uniform slowly being drenched in her crystal-like tears. The stupid… split shards…

Can you hurry up with your breakdown already? We got work to do. Hyde sighed, refusing to acknowledge the broken emotions she too felt. 

Mallo sighed slightly; it wasn’t out of annoyance, but sympathy. "Well. It's okay if you don't want to talk about it; I'm not going to force you." She looked away for a moment to think, before looking back at Jekyll. "Just..." She sighed before extinguishing her cigarette and placing it on the floor. Her foot stomped on it to ensure the fire going out.  "Look– Here."

Mallo moved closer to Jekyll, before pulling her into a hug. Her arms wrapped around Jekyll’s shaking body slowly, pulling her into a warm embrace. "Listen, it’ll be alright. You haven’t hurt anyone.”

Hyde scoffed. What is she on–

“And I’m sure whatever happened, they will forgive you. People make mistakes, even if the mistake is made by… someone else in your body. Any respectful person would forgive you. So it’ll be ok, Jekyll… and Hyde. It’ll be ok for both of you.”

…

It was the first time in a long time Hyde finally shut up. Mallo softly rubbed Jekyll's back to try and calm her down. 

Jekyll was surprised by the gesture but didn't object. She slowly wrapped her arms back around Mallo, burying her face into her shoulder as she sobbed, though her body started shaking less. She clung to Mallo tightly. "Please... please don't go... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry Mom..." She muttered the last part, her voice broken. Images of her mother’s warm hugs flashed before her eyes, and the deadly feeling of the brisk cold after her mother could no longer give her warm hugs after her death lingered. Jekyll hated that cold, she hated not being able to touch anyone anymore and feel that warmth. 

However, Mallo's embrace was so warm, that she never wanted it to end. Mallo’s hug was like a second version of her mother’s. The moment Jekyll embraced Mallo was the moment that shut Hyde up as the feeling of the mother’s hug flashed in their mind. 

Hyde recalled how the White Lake also felt this way. This is a trap… Hyde started. It… It has to be…

Mallo froze at the words Jekyll uttered, glancing down at Jekyll with a shocked expression. She didn’t push her away; instead, she sighed and continued to rub Jekyll's back "It's okay. I'm not going anywhere. Not anytime soon, or anytime in the future. I can promise you that." She tensed for a bit but managed to relax and patted Jekyll's back. "And... if it's any consultation... I forgive you."

Jekyll stopped sobbing momentarily, pulling away just enough to look Mallo in the eyes, using her hands to wipe her face. "I..." She paused, sniffing before collecting her thoughts together. 

It… It wasn’t a trap… Hyde wrestled in Jekyll’s brain, trying to figure things out. What? How? Why wasn’t it a…

"Sorry... I might've squeezed too tight I..." Jekyll’s voice shook, ignoring Hyde’s ramble. She wasn’t going to miss this moment of comfort that she needed for so long. "Your... words and hug were... something I'd never thought I'd hear or feel again..." She sighed, looking to the ground. "Thank you..."

"It's... not a problem," Mallo said, sighing yet again, more so relieved than anything else. "Hate to see innocent people upset."

Oh. Hyde sighed disappointingly. She just… doesn’t know… 

But…

Jekyll, you and I are not innocent. Hyde recalled. She wouldn’t be acting this way if she knew… 

Mallo gave Jekyll a pat on the back and let her go, ending the hug. “You feeling better? Or do you want another one?”

Jekyll’s eyes darted from side to side before meeting Mallo’s gaze and nodding. She embraced Mallo with less strain; she didn’t cling to Mallo as much as the first hug, having calmed down. She couldn’t close her eyes as Mallo’s arms wrapped around her. 

Mallo obliged and hugged Jekyll again, her posture becoming increasingly relaxed. She stayed quiet to just let the duo enjoy the silence of their interaction. It took a few moments of a silent embrace before Mallo softly hummed a gentle tune. The melody was slow and calming, being quite melancholic in it's feel.

Jekyll rested in Mallo’s arms, slowly relaxing herself. She felt her heartbeat and breathing slowly sync with hers, and it almost put her to sleep. The pain in her eyes felt less bothersome, and her mind slowly came to ease. 

Please don’t ruin this, Hyde… Jekyll silently begged, closing her eyes. 

…I won’t. The painter sighed. Just… enjoy it while it lasts… 

You can… enjoy it too… you know…