A Blazing Dawn - Anonymussel (2024)

Chapter 1: To Stand Up Straight

Chapter Text

Ssanghwa-cha.

It’s a tea that Philip has grown much accustomed to making in his time in the Dawn Office. His teacher, Salvador, was fond of it.

As a medical tea, ssanghwa-cha was good for older people. Salvador was a Fixer with plenty of experience, and he’d taught Philip almost as much as he could. It was no skin off his back to do this small chore every day, even if his seonbae always made fun of him for it.

The trick to making good tea was to prepare the ingredients yourself. It cost slightly more, but the spike in quality was well worth it. Although the Dawn Office was in a Nest, that didn’t mean that everything around them was perfect- there were still cheap tea bags available, and that was what his master had been buying for the longest time. Salvador had constantly been praising Philip for the slight changes he had made to his tea; it felt strange that he was getting praise for that when he had been going out to the field less and less recently.

Boil the water. Steeple the leaves for the proper amount of time. Add the egg yolk and a small dash of milk. Serve.

It really was that simple. Salvador had been making outlandish claims for a while now, saying that Philip should open his own shop to serve tea, or even claiming that his tea-making skills would be like a Color's among those who practiced the craft. He didn’t understand why. Of all things, the only word he could really use to describe himself was average, and his skills outside of a Fixer were no different. Although he was a Grade 5, he hadn’t handled anything that would put him in any real danger, and he was fully aware of this fact.

Sometimes, he wondered if he was being coddled, and sometimes, he wondered if that were really such a bad thing after all.

“I’ve prepared your usual tea today, master.”

Salvador glanced up at him, a strange look on his face almost hidden by his moustache. “Thank you, Philip.”

Philip almost hesitated as he set the tea down on the table in front of him. “Um, master…”

Before he could speak any further, Salvador began to muse into the open air. “Good grief, this is what I must hear from my old friend…This tea has a strong taste and aroma today. I like it.”

I haven’t done anything particularly new. “Thank you for the compliment, sir. What is the news you have received from your old friend, if I may ask?”

“...Philip, have you heard of ‘The Library’?”

The Library. An Urban Plague-ranked case within L-Corp’s fallen Nest. Master’s old friend in the Zwei Section 6 had fallen victim to it recently, although Salvador wasn’t particularly caught up about it.

Their Office had been contracted by the Zwei to handle it. Since the Dawn Office was located in V-Corp, adjacent to L-Corp, it would be a quick and easy trip back, even if they could enter the Library from anywhere. This request would net them payment for months. It was Philip’s first time doing an Urban Plague-class job. Naturally, he was nervous, but…

I…want to look good for seonbae.

He’d confessed his feelings to Yuna, his seonbae in their office and one of the people he admires, not too long ago. The three of them were going on this job together. There was far more that he wanted from this outing, of course- he wanted the Office to do well, he wanted to hone his skills, he wanted them all to come out alive- but that was the pressing concern on his mind.

Seonbae hadn’t rejected him or accepted him when he confessed. She was still treating him as normal. He wanted a standout performance; wanted to give her a good impression, or even a bad one, just so he could get a definitive answer.

He hadn’t looked at her face after he confessed. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what expression would lie there.

Salvador had almost certainly picked up on his turbulent emotions. There was no other explanation for why his master wanted to have a talk with him after the mission was over.

…He was getting too absorbed in himself. He could worry about this after the battle was over.

Entering the Library wasn't too difficult. It seemed to only allow entrance through an invitation, which they had somehow acquired through methods that Philip didn't particularly care to ask about. He was sure that if it were important, master would tell him.

The Library itself was a strange structure. He had fumbled by comparing it to a previous case they did, the Midnight Pancreas Burgers. Disgusting as it was, it wasn't something they should have been thinking about while they were preparing to fight an Urban Plague. That shame burned his cheeks even as they greeted the Library's director- someone who looked to be mostly machine, not quite human enough to qualify as a person.

Without the assistance of the Wedge Office, they were essentially going in blind. They didn't know anything about their opponents, be it their fighting style or any of their abilities. As far as they were aware, nobody who had entered the library had returned alive.

When the doors opened for them, Philip found himself nervously staring into a floor of white, books piled up tremendously high as far as the eye could see.

As guests of the Library, they would show their best. He had a house party to look forward to after this.

The fight was going well enough.

They were received by a man in black and two of his assistants. However, as the battle was going on, they seemed to be taking on strange powers, their strengths suddenly fluctuating or growing more powerful. Not only that, but all three of their enemies fought with unique abilities. They seemed to be taking on the aspects of others; Salvador noticeably frowned when he saw one of the assistants wearing Walter's clothes and using his techniques. Either way, they fought with all they had. The Dawn Office weren't pushovers, and they wouldn't be treated like such, regardless of the strength of their foes.

But…at some point, Salvador stood up straight.

"Ah…I thought I recognized you. It's been quite a while, hasn't it?"

The man in black paused, his face passive for a long moment. "Don't think I've met you before in my life. Let's just focus on the fight, yeah?"

"Hoho, so that's how it is. I'm certain of it now, after hearing your voice. I doubt I could forget that day if I tried, and no amount of memory wipes will remove that nauseating feeling. You’re the same, are you not? I can pretend as though I don't know what you are, if that will make things easier between us, old friend."

The fighting had come to the most momentary of pauses.

"...Master?"

Salvador glanced over at him. "Philip, my boy. Take this. It'll serve you far better than it will me. Don’t be afraid to flee if the battle proves too tough…and don’t be afraid to see everything through to the end, either."

Before Philip could respond or do anything, Salvador's trench coat was thrown at him unceremoniously. He fumbled with it, barely managing to keep himself from stumbling. When he could see the battlefield again, Salvador was clashing with the man in black once more.

But…this coat is like his armor…

Why did he…

One of the assistants was attacking him again. Yuna jumped in, saving him from a hit and bashing away the opponent. She must have realized that something was wrong too- she had a grim expression on her face. "Stay focused, Philip. We need you in this fight. You’re really not too shabby, so show me some more of that spirit! We’re not done yet!"

He grit his teeth. "Right! Sorry, seonbae!"

Desperately, he launched himself into battle again, allowing the flow of his emotions to carry him. Salvador's coat protected him from one hit more than he would've liked to take, but he was surviving well enough.

Surviving far better than his opponent, as well.

His blade found its way through one of the assistants, and they vanished into a flash of light. Philip's eyes went wide at the sight- it had been an oddly peaceful kill.

But…just as he did that, he heard a pained groan come from behind him.

It was a familiar voice, and one that he hadn’t hoped to be hearing.

For the longest of moments, he refused to turn his head, hoping against hope that what he had heard wasn’t reality. Even if it hurt him in the end, it felt better to just pretend he didn’t hear the sound of Salvador being stabbed, that he hadn’t heard the same mirrored noise he had heard when he killed the librarian.

Even though he knew that it was happening, it felt better to just close his ears, if only for a moment.

There was the sound of blades clashing behind him, and a fist roughly slammed down on top of his head. Staggering forward, Philip managed to whirl around.

“Get your head in the game, Philip! We can still win this!”

Seonbae had covered for him. The man in black had gone to attack him while his back was turned.

If it wasn’t for her, he almost certainly would’ve died there and then.

"R-Right! I’ll…I’ll help out!”

It was all he could say in the face of her domineering expression. She looked fierce, ready to fight. He felt much the opposite. There was nothing that he wanted to do more than flee.

Salvador was dead, and his coat was hastily wrapped around Philip’s shoulders.

The emotion that broiled up within him didn’t bring him to his knees. That overflowing negativity was certainly present, but it felt distant, as though it would simply cease to exist if he stopped acknowledging it. Perhaps he would stop feeling that choking feeling in his throat if he did.

He would never see Salvador again. Philip had made him tea this morning. He would never get the chance to do so again.

That fact caused such an alarming dissonance within him that he almost fumbled his sword when he went to attack the librarians.

There’s…there’s just no way. We can’t win without master. It’s impossible. Seonbae is powerful, but she performs best when alone. I’m just dragging her down. I can’t…

Perhaps the moment he thought ‘it’s impossible’ was the moment where that became fact.

He fought to his best- or perhaps he fought to what he thought his best was. The effort felt foreign to him, as though he were watching some else fight in his place. But the man in black and his remaining assistant were just…slightly stronger. Philip’s attacks were parried or dodged. He wasn’t quick or strong enough to do the same back.

One mistake after another. They came like a cavalcade. Fear was filling him with every mistake he made.

…Master…he wouldn’t have given me his coat for no reason, right…or is that my own delusion?

He clashed one more time with the man in black. Despite the situation, despite Philip’s desperation, the man looked as unflappable as he did at the start of the battle.

This time, the blade caught the edge of Philip’s shoulder when he failed to block the attack.

The man in black reared his blade back even as Philip stumbled backward.

Is this…the end? No…I don’t want to die…

But then, out of nowhere, Yuna blocked the strike that aimed for Philip’s heart.

“Philip! Make a run for it! I’ll be fine on my own, so you go save yourself!” Despite her words, Philip could easily see the blood that poured down her temple. She wouldn’t last long at all.

But…she may be fine on her own. She’s always excelled fighting solo…maybe I’ll just be a hindrance.

I’m too much of a coward to get anything done.

Yes, I should listen to her. I can get help even if things go poorly. The Wedge Office- if they were here-!

Yuna was already engaging them both.

Wrenching his eyes away, Philip turned his back on her.

It felt like the worst mistake he had ever made in his life, even as empty relief flooded his heart and he fled the Library.

When Philip came to again after fleeing the Library, he found himself back in V-Corp’s Nest.

His wounds remained.

He was the only one around in the street.

It was just past dawn. Had he come back only an hour earlier, the Sweepers would have gotten to him.

For a long, long few minutes, he waited on the street, simply lying still against a wall, waiting. Waiting and listening.

Hoping against all odds that seonbae would appear, would tell him that she had won.

But ten minutes passed, then fifteen, then thirty, and with blood sluggishly seeping from his shoulder, he despondently accepted that she wasn’t coming.

…He had fled from a battle where he might make a real difference.

He was supposed to be a Grade 5 Fixer, and yet he had abandoned those he cared about at the drop of a hat, just at their urging.

He could've saved them.

…He still could.

Right. The Library turned its guests into books. It didn't kill them.

He had forgotten about that for some reason, in the heat of battle. It was as though the thought had completely fled his mind.

He could still save them.

He just…needed help.

He wasn't capable enough to do it all himself. He knew that well. No matter how hard he tried, he wouldn't have been able to win on his own. There was one thing he could still do.

He needed to go to the Wedge Office- the Dawn Office's sister Office. Even if they weren't as combat-oriented as the Dawn Office, they were certainly better than him.

Philip hauled himself to his feet, supporting himself with his sword, and began to walk.

People were already starting to leave their homes and wander the streets. Some were Fixers, some were just regular salarymen. The poor weren’t a class of people that existed within a Nest. Nobody gave him strange looks. While incidents were far less common in a Nest, it was still an everyday occurrence for someone to be bloodied.

He’d seen others in similar situations before and had turned the other cheek. It was no surprise that the sentiment was reciprocal.

Slowly, he staggered his way down familiar streets. He wasn’t thinking about where he was going- to be honest, he was just letting his feet drag him wherever they would. He felt too numb to try to direct himself right now.

One foot in front of the other. One step after another. That was all Philip needed to think about. That was all he needed to be right now.

…Ah.

He hadn’t made it to the Wedge Office.

Slowly, Philip opened the door to the building his feet had taken him to, and let the doors of the Dawn Office close themselves behind him.

Perhaps revenge could wait for just one more day.

It was three days later when Philip finally approached the Wedge Office.

He hadn’t managed to bring himself to tell Salvador’s wife what had happened to her husband, and if seonbae had any family, he didn’t know about them.

Master had left him a note in the office, giving him instructions on what to do if something went wrong. Philip hadn’t gotten past the first few lines before his tears blurred out the rest of it.

Whenever he considered the thought of explaining what had happened in the Library, a deep, pervasive sense of shame and guilt wracked through his body. If he approached Salvador’s wife while wearing the man’s coat, then he would never be able to forgive himself, let alone considering how she would react to it. How could he tell her that he had fled from battle? Had he simply won, then he could have saved both Salvador and Yuna.

But instead, he had turned tail and ran, like a coward, and now, he had lost everything for it.

The Dawn Office would be officially disbanded if he fell. It might happen regardless, if he couldn’t generate any income soon. All he’d done was lay on the couch staring at the ceiling for the past few days, wallowing in his own grief and ignoring the ringing of the phone and the knocks on the door. It was a miracle and a half that he’d managed to pull himself to his feet and make his way over to the Wedge Office.

Slowly, Philip raised his hand, and he knocked on the door.

After a few moments and some shuffling noises, the door creaked open ever so slightly, and Pamela stuck her head out.

Pamela was a petite girl, barely half his size, but she was a capable Fixer of the Wedge Office all the same. Still, though, her personality was difficult, and he found it tough to work with her. That didn’t mean he was above coming crawling to their door to ask for help.

She frowned at him. “Oscar, Pameli. Philip is here.”

She opened the door for him, and he quietly followed in after her. She led him to the Office proper, sitting down on a couch and staring at him unnervingly.

For a long moment, it was just the two of them. He felt the weight of her gaze as though it were a physical thing weighing on his shoulders. There was no chance that he could return a look like that. Desperately, he averted his gaze, eyes landing on a teapot.

…Ah. There is one thing that I’m good at.

Mechanically, Philip stood up, making his way over to the teapot. All of the ingredients for ssanghwa-cha were present. Oscar and Salvador were friends, so it made sense that they shared tastes.

Without saying a single word, he got to work on brewing. It occupied his hands and his mind, keeping him from thinking about the burning gaze on his back.

Just as he turned on the flame, a door opened. Someone familiar and unfamiliar at the same time walked in.

That person was Pameli, another Fixer of the Wedge Office. Her personality was equally as dysfunctional as Pamela’s, but she was more straightforward. In a bad way.

The head of that person was undeniably Pameli’s, but the body…it was dramatically different from what he knew. Before, she was significantly taller than Pamela; now, the two looked almost like twins. Something had happened, and he wasn’t sure what.

She barely even regarded him as she came into the room while carrying a tray of food, sitting down alongside Pamela and setting it down on the table in front of the couch.

“I’m guessing that your Office got wiped out.”

Pamela’s words were cool and calm, a far cry from how Philip felt. He swallowed carefully, trying to focus on what he was doing as much as possible. “...Yes. Salvador and Yuna fell in battle.”

Pameli sighed. “That’s a shame. Those two were good at their jobs. It’ll be hard to find another Office who works with us as well as they did.”

It was quiet for a long, agonizing moment.

“You should eat. The food will get cold.”

“...Thank you for the offer, but I’m not hungry.” He hadn’t managed to keep anything solid down recently.

Pamela sighed. “I understand that your Office got wiped out, but I can tell that you’re growing emaciated. Eat. Harden your heart, and you can move on from there.”

He couldn’t say anything in response. Slowly, he reached out and took a bite. It tasted like ash in his mouth. Pameli just snorted, reclining back and kicking up her feet. “Do you think it was your fault or something?”

…Do I think it was my fault?

If it wasn’t my fault, then who could possibly bear the blame?

Of course it was my fault. I’m the reason everything went poorly. I fled, and they died.

He couldn't bear to endure her gaze anymore. He set down his chopsticks, standing up and walking back to the tea kettle, standing before it and staring at it uselessly.

“...Of course. I couldn’t make use of the opportunity that Master gave me. I wasn’t strong enough to make a difference. I ran. Had I been stronger…had I spent more time maturing instead of-”

“Then it was your fault.” Pameli cut him off. She almost sounded bored.

His hand skimmed the side of the teapot. It burned. He didn’t even notice; he was too preoccupied with staring at Pameli with his mouth hung open like a gutted fish. “...Huh?”

“You were too dumb and weak to save them. It’s your fault that everyone died. The only person you can blame is yourself.” Pameli’s words were blunt, said without a shred of decency or even interest. At her side, Pamela was quiet, gazing at her with a unreadable expression.

She…

She’s right. It is…

“Feel better now? Think whatever it is you want to think. When something bad happens, all you have to do is come up with excuses that are convenient to you. ‘I wasn’t strong enough’ or ‘I could’ve done something’ is just something you came up with. If you want to believe that, then feel free. I’m not going to bother telling you otherwise. No point, if you've already made up your mind.”

He didn’t know if it was tough love or genuine malice. The lack of expression on Pameli’s face made it hard to tell either way. Pamela opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, the door opened once more, and in came Oscar, the leader of the Wedge Office. He stood taller than Philip, and had a significantly more impressive presence.

“Hey, kids. Don’t bully the poor boy too hard, now. How are you holding up, Philip?”

Pamela sulked, frowning. “It wasn’t me. It was all Pameli.”

Philip’s mouth felt frozen in an uncomfortable half-grimace. “I’m fine.”

Oscar clearly didn’t believe him, but hummed anyway. “Sorry we couldn’t come help you out. We were busy dealing with a case of the Distortion in District 12. Those victimized by ‘The Eight O’Clock Circus’ displayed symptoms of pure insanity. It was like hell trying to get the situation under control.”

The Distortion. A strange phenomenon where people’s bodies were transforming into monsters, giving them strange, powerful abilities. The Dawn Office had handled creatures that could be considered low-grade Distortions, although it was all without him. That was clearly no longer going to happen after the Library.

Pameli sighed at Oscar’s words. “I had to get my body replaced. This one just isn’t my style…”

Pamela’s gaze finally turned vicious, rapidly transforming into a glare as she swiveled her head. “I urgently got body cloning surgery to keep you from being a severed head trapped in stasis until the end of time, and this is how you repay me? We pay a premium to get that type of insurance. Be more grateful.”

“What’s the point if I just get discouraged every time I look in the mirror? This body isn’t my own, you know!”

“Then why don’t you just go die a permanent death already? Go ahead and waste my goodwill, see if I care! Matter of fact, I might just do it myself.”

“You looking for a scrap?”

Philip’s voice cracked as he began to speak. “Please stop fighting.”

Both girls glanced up at him, and Pamela huffed, settling back down. “Speaking of insurance, do you know if Salvador took out any?”

“I don’t. I was new, so-”

“Check, and as soon as possible. Some companies will offer insurance only for a short time after death. You may have less than a week to claim any before you fully dissolve the Office.”

The teapot shrieked. Philip jumped at the loud noise, and Pameli sneered at his reaction.

Slowly, he began to pour out the ssanghwa-cha. Oscar watched his every movement. “I see that Salvador gave you his armor.”

His motions stilled for a short moment. “...Yes. I don’t know why.”

“He paid quite the price for the modifications he’s made to that coat. M-Corp tend to be stingy with their Singularity. It's difficult even for the Liu to get their hands on. I imagine you’ll find it very helpful.”

“I already have. It saved my life in the Library.”

Oscar hummed, leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling for a moment. “Penny for your thoughts, Philip. Do you believe that the Library is related to the Distortion phenomenon?”

The Distortion phenomenon had torn across the City recently. Some, like the Pianist, had left vast, vast swaths of people dead. That specific Distortion had killed over 300,000. In contrast, the Library was quite small in scale.

Philip added the egg yolk to the tea. “I can’t say for sure. I haven’t experienced the Distortion myself, but that place was more alien than any I’ve ever seen, and master and seonbae got turned into books there.”

Oscar was quiet for a long moment. “...That’s not all too helpful. Several Associations have started keeping an eye on the Distortions. It’s gotten to the point that the Wings and the Fingers are unable to deal with them. Even just those affected by the Eight O’Clock Circus is too much for an Office like ours- not even considering the primary Distortion himself.”

Philip could barely follow along. Truth be told, he didn’t much care about this. When master and seonbae were back, when he got their books back, then he could worry about the Distortions. Those two were smarter and stronger than he was; even if he wanted to waste his energy worrying about it, it would be to no avail. He lacked the power to destroy even the Library, so how could he possibly defeat a Distortion?

…The tea was finished. He realized that he had made it without being asked, or even asking if Oscar wanted any. Robotically, he set it down in front of the man, not bothering to ask at this point.

Settling into a seat of his own, he ignored the strange look that Oscar gave him.

Pameli was staring at him, unimpressed. “You don’t look like you care at all. I bet you just want to mosey your way back down to the Library and get yourself killed.”

He grit his teeth. Before he could retort, Pamela began to speak. “That’s why you came here today, isn’t it? To ask for help?”

…All he could do was sigh. “I’m sorry. I understand that it’ll put you at risk…and I’ll understand if you deny me. But, please…this is the only way I can fix my mistake. I’ll do whatever needs to be done, so please- help me raid the Library. I have to get back their books, no matter what. My master said to me in his note that I shouldn’t be hasty and that I should depend on your aid only if necessary, but…please…I want to do this on behalf of them. I can’t let it all be in vain! I want to help others, to help them! Can’t we, as people of this City- no, just as people, help others for no reason at all?”

It was hard to see Oscar’s eyes from underneath his hat, but Philip felt the weight of his gaze nonetheless. It was a painfully long moment before the man took action.

Without saying a word, Oscar reached out and began to drink the tea that Philip had set out.

“Hm…You truly are an expert at making ssanghwa-cha, just like Salvador said.”

“...Oscar?” Pamela looked somewhat confused and troubled. He couldn’t tell why.

“Why are you really asking us this, Philip? Is it for the sake of Salvador and Yuna? Or is it for some other reason?” Oscar sounded quiet and thoughtful.

“...What?”

“You gave a fine speech, but I must wonder about your true motivation. It’s easy to delude yourself into believing that you’re taking up dangerous work or doing bad things for the sake of someone else. However, in the end, what you seek to do is selfish. You’re asking me to put my Office and my life on the line based on a whim, to take action for your sentiment. You’re asking me to potentially throw all of our lives away for an ideal; the ideal that helping another through self-sacrifice is selfless. That, in itself, is the most selfish thing you could ask. It is a pervasive selfishness that gnaws away at and consumes your peers. Thus, all I can do in the face of your question is wonder- are you trying to save Salvador and Yuna because you truly wish to have them by your side once more, or are you merely attempting to escape the guilt that you have thrust upon yourself as a result of their deaths?”

In the face of that question, of that brutal, total honestly, Philip had no response, no counter-argument. The only emotion that was running through him was shock- not because of the audacity of the question, but at the fact that it had verbalized something that he had thought to himself previously.

Was this…truly the right thing to do?

He didn’t know.

He couldn’t possibly know.

He didn’t want to know.

So all he did was lower his head and refuse to meet Oscar’s damning eyes.

After a long, long moment of silence, where shame and guilt burned Philip’s ears, Oscar sighed once more. “...It is all well and good that you wish to save Salvador. However, that mindset of yours is something that can easily get you, and many, many others, killed. A smart Fixer would simply move on. You are a Grade 5 Fixer. Work can be found anywhere. Bonds can be remade. And while I would never personally take you into the Wedge Office due to that mindset, your competence at such a young age can bring you very far; farther than Salvador or I could ever hope to reach. I truly do have high hopes for you. I wish that you would keep that in mind after our visit to the Library.”

…Huh?

Philip’s head shot up.

Pameli groaned. “So we’re really doing this.”

“Indeed. Prepare yourselves, kids. This will be quite the fight, if Salvador’s actions were anything to go by. Philip, are you prepared to enter the Library once more?”

“Ah- yes, sir! Thank you!” He shot to his feet even as Oscar rose much more slowly.

“Don’t thank me or mistake this for kindness. I was already planning on going there, and I received this recently.” At that, Oscar revealed something familiar- an invitation to the Library.

Shakily, he nodded. “I understand. I’ll go get ready-”

“Hold on.” Before Philip could go prepare himself fully, Oscar approached him, adjusting the collar on Salvador’s coat carefully and smoothing it down. “You ought to look your best if you’re going to be a guest. They seem rather civilized, so we ought to treat them the same way, no?”

It was another half hour before they left for the Library. In that time, his mood had returned back to its downward spiral, something which Pameli picked up on.

“Are you seriously frowning again? Come on, we're even going out of our way to fix your mistake.”

Pamela chimed in quietly. “Give him some space. He’s still recovering.”

Philip shook his head. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll do my best to not be a hindrance.”

Oscar chuckled. “I’ll gut you if you do start getting in our way. Try to keep your head screwed on straight.”

And then, with a snap, the director in blue- Angela- appeared once more.

“Greetings, dear guests. Your mood doesn’t seem to be that great, thou-”

Philip’s sword lashed out, cutting a harsh line through her.

For a long moment, all was silent.

And then, the wound, which was partially sparkling electricity and partially oozing blood, vanished as though it had never occurred.

Pameli snickered, even as Angela leveled a murderous glare at him. “You beat me to the punch. Guess you’ve got more spunk in you than I thought. Anyway, seems like Miss Director is partially human, even though she’s supposed to be a machine. Shouldn’t the Head know about that?”

“...That is neither here nor there. Dear guest, you should know the rules by now. Lashing out at me will not get you the book you seek. You should learn to behave.”

Philip grit his teeth. “It might make me feel better, if only for a moment.”

“So you are a contemptuous child, led only by your emotions. And those emotions have led you to bring more books to my doorstep.”

“I won’t let you take any more lives! The Library will be destroyed today!” He snarled, even as Pamela frowned.

“I heard the librarian of this place was supposed to be nice.”

“There’s no reason to be nice to discourteous children who will throw tantrums at the rules they agreed to. May you find your book in this place.” Her words completely lacked the calm inflection they held the first time she uttered them. With another snap, Angela disappeared.

…He was panting. Anger was still coursing through him. It was the first real emotion he had felt in days.

Oscar’s hand came down onto his shoulder. “Easy there, boy. Don’t lose your head just yet. We got some valuable information out of this, anyway.”

Pameli nodded. “Yeah, seems like she’s got her own tipping point just like normal people. She also can't be killed by normal means, which means we have to take down the Library one step at a time. She also becomes a bitch when she’s pissed. Must’ve had her own problems.”

“There’s no reason to take it out on us, though.” Pamela pointed out.

The doors opened.

Oscar hummed. “Well, if the information that you gave us was correct, Philip, then we ought to be able to win this.”

He nodded shortly. “I told you everything that I know. I can’t afford to hold back now.”

The four of them were silent as they entered into a floor of white, books piled as high as the eye could see.

They were greeted by a man in black, and…two assistants.

One of which Philip very, very vividly remembered killing.

The doors slammed shut behind them even as his eyes went wide.

“You…I killed you! You can’t-”

“Man, you really brought more people into this? Shouldn’t you know not to drag other people into your problems?” The man in black asked him languidly.

…Why does everyone keep questioning my motivations?

Can’t I just want to help other people for my own reasons?

Can’t I just do what I think is right?

…Without saying another word, and with the Wedge Office at his back, Philip leapt into battle with a frenzied roar.

The Wedge Office wasn’t primarily combat focused like the Dawn Office was- no, their expertise lay in analytics. However, when they had information at their disposal, they were something to be reckoned with, and Philip had provided plenty. But…what he hadn’t accounted for was that the conditions of the Library would change so drastically. The assistant that he had killed was alive and kicking. Their enemies were using more powerful techniques and smarter tactics. And…it seemed they were using Salvador’s book, too. He recognized those clothes.

He refused to allow himself to be distracted. All he had to do was kill the man in black, and the enemy’s formation would crumble. If he just stayed focused, he could bring them all back. He could take back his faults. He could save them all.

One clash. Two clashes.

Slowly, Philip was beginning to learn his opponent's patterns. It wasn't too difficult to understand what they were doing, although he had to admit that he wasn't the best at predicting and parrying an opponent.

Their swords met time and time again. Flame danced around him as he dealt and took hits. The man in black kept pace with him annoyingly well, his body moving just slightly faster than Philip’s. It was infuriating just how glaring his own lack of skill was, how prominent his weakness was that a single opponent could outpace him like this, even when he had three of his most trusted-

Pameli let out a strangled cry, and Philip’s eyes went wide.

A short glance was all it took to tell that she was vanishing into light.

“Guess she wasn’t used to her body yet…” Pamela grumbled.

…It’s happening again.

So, so quickly…

The man in black pushed Philip’s blade away, and with a flourish that was noticeably faster than before, struck out. Salvador’s coat took the brunt of the attack, but Philip couldn’t help but stumble backwards.

We have them outnumbered, and I know the Wedge Office is strong, so…

…why?

The fire that surrounded them, that came from his weapons and his enhancements, was starting to get to him. Sweat was pouring down his face, almost dripping down onto his glasses.

Why can’t we win? Why is it still impossible for me?

Why can’t I make up for my failures?

Again.

Again.

Again and again, he struggled, he raised his sword, he rushed in desperately, his emotions boiling and churning within him.

But…

All that awaited him was another cry of pain from behind, and a long-suffering sigh from Oscar.

“It can be attributed to the individual’s lack of attention,” was all the old veteran had to say about the loss of one of his Fixers.

…Philip couldn’t bring himself to turn his head. Couldn’t bring himself to look away. Couldn’t bring himself to look past the somewhat bored, somewhat pitying expression on the man in black’s face, despite how much rage it ignited in him.

Once more…it’s happening once more…is it really my fault?

Why…even though they’re just borrowing the powers of others, why are their skills still better than mine? I trained and fought hard to get to Grade 5. I shouldn’t be this pathetic.

Fire was burning even heavier around him. His breaths came in even more shallow gasps. His mind was in a haze.

I wasn’t wrong to try to get their books back. I’m doing the right thing.

Why, then, did they all tell me I was being selfish? That my resolve was wrong? I just want to do something on behalf of others!

One of the assistants slammed the pommel of their sword into his head. Seeing stars, he stumbled back, blood starting to pour from the wound. The man in black attempted to capitalize on it, but Oscar stepped in, blocking the attack.

“I don’t know how old Salvador recognized you, but I can tell your skills are the real deal. You must have been quite the Fixer in your heyday.” The veteran mused, the words sounding muted to Philip’s ears.

The man in black tutted. “I’m just a regular Grade 9. Gotta thank Miss Director for what I have right now.”

“I wonder, then, how you managed to enter this place. A normal Grade 9 wouldn’t be able to enter an impenetrable building and then keep up with someone like Philip, regardless of implanted skills. I have to wonder if you weren’t demoted somehow.”

A sigh. “That’s that, and this is this. I don’t really see the need to argue with someone who’s gonna be a book soon, anyhow.”

Philip shook his head, forcing himself to concentrate. He was still under attack, after all-

-Ah, but Oscar…

He was fighting with all he had, and yet the same scenario was occurring as when Philip fought. The man in black just barely stayed ahead, but that was all that was required. He just…

…Ah, how annoying. His thoughts were drifting all over the place. He couldn’t even keep his head on straight, so how could he possibly take revenge? How could he remove this guilt that had festered in his heart?

…What was he even doing this for, in the end?

Philip continued to fight, but it felt like he was simply going through the motions. Attack, clash, lose, repeat. More and more wounds compounded themselves; more and more, he took damage, and more and more, Oscar got hurt. Always and forever, he was hurting others for his own selfish desires.

More and more, blood was being spilled, all for his own selfish desire.

Until finally, Philip was knocked back harshly by a strong hit from the man in black, his body nearly giving in on him. He could tell, they had already lost this fight. There was no point from the start- he was forever doomed to fail, forever doomed to falter to his own inadequacies.

He knew he would die here.

Panting harshly, he dug his sword into the ground, struggling to pull himself up, his vision swimming, blood pouring sluggishly down his face-

And when he raised his head fully, he saw Oscar get impaled by a sword.

…It was strange. It was the first death…that Philip felt that he truly saw.

Ah. He was right all along, wasn’t he?

This goal of mine…it was selfish from the start.

I couldn’t keep his words from my mind because I knew they were true.

I couldn’t accept them at all. Relentlessly, I closed my eyes and covered my ears to the truth. No matter what he said to me, no matter what Oscar and Pameli and Pamela tried to tell me or persuade me to do, this would always have been the result. No matter how I try to spin it, no matter what way I choose to view this, it’s definitively, without argument, all my fault.

Oscar had told me to give up, to make new bonds, to focus on my career. The meaning of his words…in that context, in that moment, being selfish would have been the most selfless choice of all, and yet I chose this path nonetheless.

Oscar’s head lolled back, glancing behind him at Philip one final time.

Before the man turned into light fully, all that he offered was a smile.

My cowardice led master and seonbae to their deaths. My selfishness led Oscar, Pameli, and Pamela to theirs.

I believed I was doing it all for them. I took action, led others to their deaths…all for seonbae and master. All for them.

Ah…I was a fool. A fool to think that I was being selfless. A fool, through and through, all the way to the end.

I’ve never had courage. I could never stand up for something. I forfeited, believing that I could still be selfless, believing that I could still remain as I am.

I involved the Wedge Office in my own matters. I’ve been a deadweight, all this time. Even though I fought, even though I remained, I couldn’t stop them from dying.

My power was for nothing. Their losses were for nothing. I truly am…the most selfish, vile, unforgivable person who has ever lived.

There was something welling up within him, a strange heat. It wasn’t something warm and comforting; it burned, clawed at his insides, tore at his will to stand up straight…

…but, that was just fine for a coward like him, because that will had never existed before today.

I never had the courage to stand up to anything. I was determined to sacrifice myself, and yet, time and time again, I gave in, allowing myself to run, constantly refusing to face forward. All because, somewhere in the back of my mind, I told myself that I was still selfless. That I could still raise my head up high. That everything I did was for others. Telling myself that it was for someone else, always for another, never acknowledging that it was just my selfishness reverberating through my every action. An echo chamber, built solely by and for me…there can be nothing more selfish than that.

It was never for something greater.

It was always…for me.

I’ve never been worthy of anything I’ve been given; not master’s coat, not my weapons, and not my skills.

Oscar was right. What I asked of him was selfish, and it was my selfish request that got them killed. Even if it’s a convenient answer, it’s the only one that’s true.

I parroted to myself that my actions were for someone else. ‘For them.’ ‘For seonbae.’ ‘For master.’ All of them were lies. It was never for anyone else.

I can’t embellish it to myself anymore. That echo chamber is quiet, now. There is no void in my heart screaming lies back to me. I know now that I’ve never worked for the sake of others. Not once in my entire life…I’ve never been the righteous man I wanted to be.

No one will cry for me. No one will feel sadness for me. No one will share in my pain.

So, for me, who is the saddest of all…I have to keep moving.

That flame…it was coalescing. Everything around him seemed to be moving in slow motion, his mind finally moving quickly and clearly. The heat that tore at him was burning away at even his heart.

If I have to carry the weight of that emotion…if I must acknowledge my sadness…then I’ll take the path of getting back on my feet alongside this sadness. If it must be my companion through all my choices, if it must accompany me whenever I question whether to flee or fight…then I’ll stand and accept it.

The fire finally solidified, becoming a wavering, flickering being.

Because I believe I can do it.

That burning flame thrummed against his chest, a core to a set of armor not quite whole.

Because it is what I must do.

Wax armor trailed down his arm from that core, resting firmly around his sword hand. What was once an average blade had become something far, far more than that. Salvador’s coat had become halfway covered.

I have to move forward.

A single waxy wing curled around his left side.

Not once before had Philip felt this powerful.

Not once before had Philip felt heat of this magnitude, radiating from his own body, scorching him even as he held his own weapon.

This power…is an opportunity given to me.

Raising his blade aloft, he grit his teeth. For the very first time, the man in black looked genuinely shocked, out of his element. Philip didn’t take the time to relish in it.

For once in his life…he was going to choose to be selfish.

He was going to continue this fight, knowing that it was selfish, knowing that it may only cause him pain, knowing that what was to come would only get harder and harder. Even if he won today, who was to say what would come tomorrow? He doubted that a man as vile as himself would deserve a place by the side of those he had come to care for.

Even if the fire burned him to a crisp…even if everything he fought for up until now had been a pointless, selfish endeavor…

I want…to stand strong, just this once.

I’m choosing this path, all on my own.

And for the first time…I refuse to run away.

Chapter 2: To Reach Another Day

Chapter Text

Philip’s body felt like it was burning. His single wing fluttered behind him, and that armor remained clasped firmly to his body. It wasn’t something he could explain. He didn’t know or understand why he had gained this power. He couldn’t tell whether it was a boon or something that would mark a twilight for him. All he knew was that he was going to take advantage of it.

His wounds felt as though they had evaporated. He was standing tall, facing his opponents seriously.

They were regarding him carefully. The man in black was the first to speak. “Oi, if you had equipment like that, you should have pulled it out earlier. You could’ve done something if you had, y’know?”

"You're right. It truly was...only my fault that I couldn't save them. The outcome might have been different if I had gained this power earlier. But...now that I have it, I'll make the absolute most of it."

The man in black snorted. "Yeah? Fair warning, no fancy workshop gear is gonna make a difference against miss Director. This fight will keep going until she's down."

“Even so…I’m going to continue on as I am. If my selfishness can save them all…then it’ll finally have served a purpose. From here on out, I won’t be holding back. I’ll fight until the sun sets on my life.”

And it was with that will that Philip leapt into battle.

For the first time, he properly assessed his opponents, looking beyond the man in black.

The first assistant was dressed in the garb of the Kurokumo Clan. He knew about them vaguely, knowing of their diligence to the way of the sword. It only made sense, then, that she was attacking him with a blade, the weapon moving in a sharp arc, aiming to slice his arm. His wing moved to protect him, absorbing the blow. Flames burst between them, dancing on the arm of the assistant even as he slashed out towards her as the attack ended.

The man in black was dressed in Salvador’s clothes. He didn't have the trench coat that Philip wore now, but everything else was the same- including the techniques. The Flash of Sunup- something that Salvador coined himself- was coming Philip’s way. His sword flickered out to meet the attack, a searing flame burning as he cut through the first two steps. He couldn’t keep up with the final step. The weapon scored across his sleeve, the armor almost completely absorbing the blow.

One step, two steps. Attack, defend. His body moved as though he had held these powers all his life.

The second assistant was clad in an unfamiliar garb. It looked like a cat, with a long and dangerous-looking sword. They attempted to capitalize on Philip’s momentary sword thrust. His body seemed to move of its own volition, dodging out of the way of her first attack and blocking the second one that was incoming. His sword slashed out, landing a harsh blow to her side. Fire was engulfing his blade.

He wasn’t used to fighting while outnumbered. He always had someone older, someone more experienced, by his side. He was used to fighting with allies. Now, he was all alone. All because of his selfishness.

“-but it’s their fault, isn’t it?”

…What?

Philip shook his head, the sudden voice he heard making him feel dizzy. He couldn’t tell if it was merely his own subconscious or something more. His sword fell short of where he was striking, and he suffered a harsh blow because of it. This strange power made him dramatically faster, but there was only so much he could keep track of at once.

He couldn’t get distracted any more. He needed to stay focused. No matter what, he needed to take them down. While he had this opportunity, while this power was his…he needed to do something with it.

Strike out. Charge for the enemy. Watch as the one in the Kurokumo garb fades into the light. Defend from a desperate attack from the man in black. “You left them behind, and they died for you, but it’s never your fault. You can just close your eyes and trust me. I’ll never lead you astray.”

…That feeling, that burning in his chest, it was growing hotter. It was coalescing, becoming more rampant, more unstable, yet more powerful at the same time.

But, that voice…it was undeniably female. It wasn’t his own. But…it knew him. Knew him inside and out. Although her words were soft, barely audible above his heart thumping in his chest and the thoughts in his head, and although she had only spoken slightly thus far, she was worming her way into his head, and he didn’t like it. It terrified him how much he wanted to trust her from the outset. She seemed to be getting louder the more power he was forcing into his limbs.

Fire was swirling around them all. He was panting. The cat-like librarian and the man in black looked weary, the assistant in particular running on her last breaths.

The assistant was the one who attacked first after that, raising her blade and approaching quickly. Philip shifted, focusing on defense, his wing curling around him protectively, guarding him from harm. He blocked the first two hits easily, and when he struck out in retaliation, the librarian vanished into light. The man in black swooped in, landing a few strikes that Philip couldn’t counter, his blade crackling against Philip’s armor. He felt the weight of those strikes despite this newfound power.

“You listened to them for so long. Their words of judgment infested your ears. You shouldn’t have to take flak for every action you ever take. It’s fine to ignore the words of the ignorant. They don’t know you- they don’t know what you do or why. But you know better than anyone what you’re like. Isn’t that enough? Cover your ears. Allow only your own words to guide you.”

…The fire couldn’t be contained anymore. It had become something firm, something solid in his chest.

He didn’t know if the words that woman spoke in his mind held any merit. Whether or not he should put stock into them wasn’t something he could afford to think about. He could list a thousand reasons why he shouldn’t listen to them, and yet they seemed to resonate with his very heart, burning a mark into him alongside his own fire.

The flame within him was churning. He couldn’t contain it anymore if he tried.

His wing flared.

Philip raised his blade.

And, when the man in black realized, truly realized what he was doing, that was when Philip struck.

That fire became a blazing strike, unmatched by any between heaven and earth. All of his grief, all of his sadness, all of his pain, it burned, and it echoed through his sword. When Philip’s blade roared outwards, it carried with it the weight of all of his emotions, and those emotions could not be denied. It was his absolute most selfish strike yet, and it was his strongest by far.

Philip never got to see the expression on the face of the man in black, because he faded into light after only a short moment.

He panted, standing up straight. His breath came in deep, ragged, cutting gasps. His body was in worse condition than he thought it was. Adrenaline was still running through him as he shakily wiped his forehead, his hand coming back red.

I…I did it. I beat him.

For the first time, Philip felt liberated. Like he’d finally, for once in his life, managed to do-

Something wrenched in his gut, and the scenery shifted around him.

Where there once was a floor of white, books piled as high as the eye could see, they had shifted to a floor of warm brown. The very atmosphere felt dramatically different, as though the sheer personality of the floor itself was different, kinder.

“...This is…”

It was a new floor.

And with it came three new opponents.

A meek-looking woman with short, light brown hair holding a big book. Two of her assistants, watching him with far less warmth than she was.

“Hello! I’m the patron librarian for the Floor of History! My name is Malkuth! I know Roland doesn’t really do introductions, but it feels rude to receive guests without one. Um…This might be late, but welcome to the Library. We’ll be continuing our reception, so-”

“Hah.”

Of course there was more. Even if they had won earlier, this would have inevitably been the result. His laugh was without mirth, and she looked somewhat perturbed at the noise.

“I know we’re putting our lives on the line, and I know that you’ve lost a lot…but at the same time, I want to face you head-on. You have every right to hold a grudge, but I want to treat you as a person, even now. You aren’t an enemy, just…another victim of her decision.”

She must have been talking about the director of the library. Well, not that he cared anymore. Whatever drama they had between them was none of his business.

“Treating me like a person won’t endear you to me. I have to kill you all the same, because that’s the only way to get back their books. This isn’t a matter of who is right or wrong anymore. Whether I’m a victim or not…that doesn’t change the fact that this outcome could have been prevented, if only I had made one of thousands of other choices.”

“You might be right…but even so, I don’t want it to be something that you regret! Choosing to fight us isn’t some horrible decision! We all have things that we want to accomplish- I do too, and that’s why we have to fight! But I want everyone to stand up tall when they do!” Malkuth argued, her expression growing more heated, more set. That fierce scowl…it held a sense of strength that he lacked even now, and it angered him like none other.

Philip grit his teeth. “I don’t need a pep talk from an enemy. You’re the people who took everything from me. I’ll have no remorse when it comes to taking your head in return.”

Malkuth slowly let out a sigh. “...I understand. Just don’t forget the memories or emotions that brought you this far, okay? If you can raise your head high, I think you'll grow into someone you can be proud of! Your efforts...they're worth more than you think, I promise.”

“...No matter what you say, I can't back down now. I have to win, and take back their books, so that all of my wrongs could be righted. Just getting back to neutral…that would be a blessing, something far more than I deserve. I’ve never had the will to stand up straight, so while this fleeting emotion stays with me, I’ll gladly push myself until my body burns up.”

Truthfully, he wasn’t sure if he could continue much longer. His body, after getting only a moment of rest, was starting to slow down.

Something he said must have gotten to Malkuth, because her eyes went somewhat wide. “Even if you haven’t been able to stand up straight before now, the fact that you’re trying is plenty enough! You’ve done way more than a lot of people ever could!”

He scowled in response. “No need to fake a cheery expression. You know I’m here to kill you, right? So let’s just get to it.”

If he held back at all, if he allowed himself to slow down, if he let his mind wander, then he would falter; not in his convictions, but in his momentum. So long as it appeared that he held the advantage…

Without wasting another moment, he raised his sword. That somewhat dismayed expression of hers turned to a focused determination.

This group…they fought differently from the man in black. They used more fire, aimed to bleed him dry.

He was already running on fumes. The enemy, however, knew his patterns by now; they knew that he had burned through the fire in his heart, knew how his wing curled to protect him, knew the way his legs moved when he dodge, knew how his sword tended to lazily stray to the side before snapping forward to sear them to ashes. While his body could barely force itself to move, how could he be expected to win?

He fought to his best. These three opponents weren't winded from fighting against the entirety of the Wedge Office. He held momentum, but it was all he had going for him.

Under those circ*mstances…there was only so much he could do.

Several minutes later, he clashed one final time, then forced himself backwards, trying to draw in breath. His wing fluttered shakily, the appendage straining with agony. It felt strange, like an extra limb, and yet it wasn’t even remotely close to flesh and bone; merely wax. That didn’t stop it from adding to his pain.

Malkuth approached quickly, faster than his hazy eyesight could process. Her weapon slammed into his chest, and he was sent skidding back.

Staggering, he gripped his sword, trying to stand up straight, his body on the verge of breaking down-

And something in his collar beeped.

Malkuth’s eyes went wide as energy began to coalesce around Philip.

There was a whirring sound, something unfamiliar, but he recognized the feeling in his gut. It was the same as when… “Wait, I can…still do more-!”

With a flash of light, Philip vanished.

“Hoo…that was one tough customer, huh? Where’d he pull such high-performing workshop gear from? No, not even workshops could put out something that good…If he had the money for some expensive stuff from some Singularity, then he should’ve used it from the start.” Roland huffed, looking somewhat put out after his embarrassing performance.

Angela was silent for a long moment. After a long moment of deliberation, she snapped her fingers, bringing Malkuth to the floor of Keter. The patron librarian looked disoriented for a short moment before grounding herself. “Wh- Angela, you can’t just-!”

“What was the meaning of that performance back there?”

Malkuth fell silent for a short moment at that, and Angela crossed her arms. “You told us that we had to heighten their emotions to get more books, right, Angela? So that’s what I did!”

“Don’t give me such a paltry excuse. I’ve spent enough time looping in that festering hellhole to not recognize an E.G.O when I see one.”

Roland stared blankly. “Ego? Like the consciousness? What does that have to do with anything?”

Angela ignored him. “So, Malkuth, what was your intent by antagonizing him? We both know very well that gaining more books would be the least of our worries if he completed it.”

Malkuth grit her teeth, wearing a scowl that appeared closer to a pout. “...I felt like we were similar. I held the very same doubts that he did, in my past life…so I wanted him to at least hear some of the words that I wanted to hear back then.”

“You could have very well requested to receive the Dawn Office or Wedge Office initially. Why did you wait until the peak of his threat level to intervene?”

“Do you really think he would have listened, E.G.O or not, if there was someone else with him?” Malkuth argued.

“Perhaps he would have recognized it as the drivel it was if his mental state weren’t quite so fragile.”

For a long moment, Malkuth merely glared, an expression which Angela was more than happy to return.

Roland coughed uncomfortably. “Hey, would one of you mind telling me what’s going on? Not a huge fan of being left out of the loop here.”

That broke the tension. Malkuth turned her glare away, giving an exhausted look to Roland. “Oh, E.G.O is-”

“Your presence will not be needed, Malkuth. I will handle the rest on my own, and I am sure that you need to wrangle your own assistants.” She couldn’t make her dismissal any more clear if she tried. Malkuth didn’t even look surprised, merely tired and frustrated. With a short bow, she excused herself.

Roland watched her go idly, before turning back to her. “Hey, Miss Director, did you really have to do that? You aren’t normally so snappy.”

Angela didn’t grace him with an immediate response, instead skimming through the books on the shelves before finding the one she was searching for- the book of Lobotomy Corporation.

“E.G.O. It’s a silly wordplay. You weren’t entirely off when you mentioned it being the consciousness. The shell of one’s ego. The manifestation of their mind. That manifestation takes the form of extremely powerful weapons and armors.” Her explanation was as basic as she could have made it. She could have explained the causal difference between red, white, black, and pale, how E.G.O could manifest several different forms beyond simple weapons and armor, how exactly Lobotomy Corp extracted it or how a skilled user such as Gebura in her prime could wield multiple E.G.O at once…but she imagined that most of it would go straight over his head, given the slack-jawed look he was giving her now.

“What? So anyone could get the equipment that the kid used, just from their mind, free of charge? That’s seriously insane…”

“I’ve never seen it manifest like this before at all. E.G.O used to be the Singularity of L Corp, although the process of obtaining it was dramatically different. We extracted it deliberately, but Philip…he must have extracted it through the influence of the White Nights and Dark Days.”

Roland frowned. “So that big beam of light in the sky let him get that equipment?”

Angela perused her notes, finding no inconsistencies with her memories; not that she expected there to be any. “I can’t imagine any other explanation. I’m glad to understand it, at the very least. It was a shame that we couldn’t get his book, although we should count our blessings as they stand.”

“Count our blessings? Why? We won, even if we went through a rough patch, right?”

Angela closed the book, taking in a measured breath. “E.G.O. is created by the conscious mind. What you’re willing to accept, how you view the world, and more importantly, the strength of your emotions will dictate how powerful it becomes. In L Corp, we could only control extracted E.G.O through a Qliphoth deterrent. Here, in the Library, we have no such mechanism- in fact, the Library functions by heightening the emotional state of the guests so that we can create more books from them. Additionally, the strength of Philip’s E.G.O was almost entirely determined by his mental state.”

The gears looked like they were clicking. “So, the reason you got so ticked off at Malkuth…”

“Had she said something that could have proven as the catalyst for Philip to complete his E.G.O…the Library would have fallen. We are in no shape to contend with something of that caliber at the moment. You fell to an unstable shell that had barely come into its own. If that shell were fully realized, his power would have been magnitudes higher than it was just now.”

Roland sucked in air through his teeth. “Yeesh. People have been named Colors for less. And he got away, too, thanks to Oscar’s device teleporting him somewhere else. Old coot still couldn’t be honest even at the end, huh?”

“You truly do have quite the repertoire of friends, don’t you?”

“You don’t get to be well-known as an information-gatherer without making a few connections here and there,” he joked, an easygoing smile on his face. Seeing that simple expression managed to ease her nerves somewhat.

But…despite his lackadaisical attitude, there was still a hint of unease within her.

That shell…it won’t survive long. He’ll either collapse or bloom, and it’ll be entirely out of our control regardless of which it is. Whether he becomes a Distortion or fully manifests his E.G.O…It’s frustrating that we’re facing a crisis like this before we can truly begin gathering the Light in earnest. We must eventually be prepared to face Colors, but if a trial comes before us earlier than we’re prepared for…

…No.

She would have faith in the invitation. Philip wouldn’t have escaped if he wasn’t meant to. This, too, would be a net positive. Besides, they gained some important pages from this battle, even if they didn’t get the quintessential book from the man.

From here, whatever happened to Philip would be something that he would have to stomach on his own- and stomach it he must, for she would need to gather as much Light as possible if she were to create the one true book.

For the longest of times, it felt like he were flying, as though his very existence was a blur.

He didn’t know how long he was caught in-between everything. It could have been seconds or days. Without knowing what type of device Oscar prepared, or how good it was, there was no way to tell.

All he knew was that, when the teleporter finally dropped him off at his destination, he was disoriented, emotional, and frankly about two seconds away from collapsing.

As for where that destination was…

“Oh my, who is this rude intruder?”

Philip’s mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. He almost stumbled as he leaned on his sword. “...Where am I?...I was fighting inside the Library…and then…”

A cackling laugh. Through hazy vision, Philip looked up at the person who was speaking to him- and his blood ran cold.

What was before him could not be considered human anymore. A vaguely human shape does not make the man- not when the body has no defining features at all, aside from a patchwork diamond pattern scattered throughout and a clown mask sewn onto its head. Sharp claws jutted out from the man-shaped creature’s hands. It looked like what a child would describe a clown from a nightmare to look like.

“Hahaha! Are you perhaps a new clown? Or are you merely here to enjoy the show?”

This…this is a Distortion.

His mind was already reeling. Gasping heavily, he wrenched his sword from the ground, entering a wavering defensive stance. Beaten and battered as he was, he knew he stood no chance- but if he just gave it his all, he could at least put up a fight before he died. Salvador’s coat was burning hot against his skin, the armor even pressing it closer and searing him.

“You…you’re a-”

“Oh, my, we have quite the jeering visitor today, hm? You and I have such similar smells, and yet you’re so on edge…come, watch the show, be doused in my scent! Holding a performance for someone like you should be as easy as chewing cold pie-flavored gum. I am Oswald, and this is…the 8 o’Clock Circus!”

…The 8 o’Clock Circus…so, it was him?

This one…this is the one he could blame?

Philip’s teeth were grinding as Oswald kept prattling on. “We bring the bestest of smells to City people who have lost-”

“Shut your mouth.”

His jaw felt like it was creaking. The clown stopped talking immediately, leaving its fun and jubilant little pose and returning to normal. “It seems like our visitor doesn’t want to know about the bestest smells. And that makes me so sad. Boohoo! Ms. Mermaid will be so sad that she didn’t get another friend…”

“You…if it weren’t for you…the Wedge Office wouldn’t have gotten held up that day. The Dawn Office wouldn’t have died. This…this is all-!”

“-your fault.”

Philip inhaled sharply.

Oswald cackled. “Ohoho! My, my, how interesting~”

Philip stumbled away, suddenly feeling nauseous. I…it’s him. He’s the one to blame!

“No, it isn’t. Stop being foolish, child. You are the only one to blame. Even if you come up with convenient answers…you know it is all your fault.”

His head was spinning.

“Y-You…I’ll kill you, I swear it…” Staggering, Philip raised his sword again, his head drooping as he struggled to stand tall. Oswald just cackled even harder.

“And yet your stink is becoming so much closer to mine. Tell me…can you hear her?” The last words were spoken conspiratorially, barely audible despite the relative quiet of the tent, and yet he heard every single one of them as though they were uttered right into his ear.

…Horrified, Philip looked up. Desperately, his mind latched on to something, anything, to distract from what the clown had said. “B-Bullsh*t. We’re nothing alike-”

And then, a strange smell hit his nose, and Philip began to truly parse what was around him.

Stitched up abominations. Eyes, barely preserved, peeking out of fabric. Haunting, grotesque creatures, all emitting the smell of horrifically rotted flesh. This circus...the entire tent around them was full of creatures that were once human.

“Oh, my, it seems our visitor is the squeamish type~” The clown laughed as bile rose in Philip’s throat.

“These…these are all people…” His voice felt unusually small.

“There’s no need to be afraid! Come, now, Ms. Mermaid, Mr. Knife? Let’s share some of our salts with him!”

At that, something that was vaguely fish-shaped opened up its mouth and let out a horrible, screeching wailing noise. It rattled him to his bones. “Stop! Stop it!”

The fish’s mouth snapped shut, and the clown tutted. “Oh dear…it seems that our visitor didn’t like our performance after all. Boohoo! Ms. Mermaid, I knew we needed more practice with your scaly mane!”

His gut was roiling. It was a miracle he hadn’t hurled yet. “You freaks…none of this is normal! What the hell is wrong with you?”

At that, Oswald tutted again. “Normal? Abnormal? Who said? Who gets to decide that? If everyone wore a hat weaved from fancy rats on their head…if everyone smiled like me…that would be normal, right? Right? Right? Right?”

With every ‘right,’ Oswald rapidly approached Philip, moving far, far faster than he could keep up with. At the final word, he was right in his face, and all that Philip could do was stumble backward.

He’s a maniac. There’s no arguing with him. It’s a waste of energy to try…but trying to leave might just get me killed. His idea of ‘smiling’ isn’t anything I want to learn.

“You’re insane. No matter what you do, it could never be normal.”

“Harumph! Quite the rude visitor. Go to the stands if you’re going to heckle! There, we can throw pies at you!”

This thing…did it really cause that much trouble? Did it really hold the Wedge Office back that day? It’s clearly got some degree of intelligence but…

…what if they…

…did they stay back on purpose?

No. That can’t be the case. Even with all the talk of insurance…there’s no way. Oscar was a good man. He wouldn’t have…

…wouldn’t have…

…why did he give me a teleporter that led me straight here?

Was he somehow in league with this clown?

There’s no way…that someone as strong as Oscar would lose to some freak like this.

His thoughts were cutting in and out of focus. His delirious mind could barely process his confusion and his doubt.

A hand curled around his cheek. “Oh, now that stench is much more like what I wish to smell. But you’re still too fragrant!”

Before the clown could say anything more, Philip slashed out sluggishly, his blade meeting nothing but air as the clown pirouetted away from the attack. “Shut up! I’ll…I’ll kill you here!”

“Kill me? Wah! I don’t like violence! But that scent of yours…hm, you do get much more pungent when you fight. I prefer crafts. Entertainment. I spread scents that you’ve never smelled before in your life. But you still smell way, way too good. What if we mixed that scent with a more filthy scent to create a newer, more boggy scent? Here we go! Come, perform with me!”

And with those words, two familiar faces appeared before him.

“Young Philip.”

“...Master? Seonbae? What…what are you…”

Salvador and Yuna were right in front of him, appearing just like they had before they died. Something that he knew was irrevocable, totally impossible.

“A big hand for the four clowns who will lead the show! Clap clap clap!”

Four?

“Clueless as always, aren’t you?” Those words came from behind- and when he turned, Oscar stood there.

…Why? Why am I seeing you all now?

This…this can’t be real. It can’t be real at all.

“Are you sure?”

And just like that, he was rattled again.

“You…what the hell have you done?” Philip managed to get out, glaring at the clown with all that he had. The clown merely cackled.

“Philip…I’m sorry that I couldn’t answer what you asked back then.” Yuna spoke softly, her words somewhat apologetic.

My…confession?

And, right before his very eyes, Yuna entwined her hands with Salvador’s.

His mind felt like it was screeching to a halt, even as the clown’s cackling grew even louder. “Ohohoho, what a surprising turn of events! Who knew that this development could occur? How dramatic!”

Desperately, his mind scrambled for an explanation. “B-but, master already has a wife and children…”

A hand landed on his shoulder, and next to him, Oscar sighed. “You just couldn’t ever see what was right in front of you. There’s a reason I could never tolerate you.”

This absolutely can’t be real. I know it isn’t. It must be…fake, right?

“Man, this is just like a typical telenovela! Waiter! Waiter! More popcorn, please!”

His anger was hitting a boiling point. “SHUT UP! Don’t you dare insult their memories with these false delusions!”

At that, Oswald frowned. “Pardon? I don’t remember doing that. Did I do that? After all, this putrid scent…it’s coming from you. You’re the one who believes this, blindly and faithfully. True, fake, real, false…who cares! Since this scent is yours, that means this is your reality. Watching it over and over in your head, constantly wondering whether you’re seeing the truth or not, revisiting the most important moment despite knowing the outcome, isn’t it sad? Doesn’t it just make you want to cry? I know I’m bored to tears.”

“Shut up, shut the hell up!”

In a mocking voice, imitating those Philip loved, Oswald continued, “‘Did you know? The reason why I shunned you, and the topic he wanted to discuss with you.’ ‘Did you know? The reason why I died, the way you forced me into your crusade.’”

“Shut your damn mouth!”

“‘That’s enough, Philip. We were simply…’”

And at that, the clown simply stopped talking…because their voices continued.

“Young Philip. Have you ever truly made any efforts to become a better person? To become stronger, to become a Fixer worthy of the Dawn Office? We were merely dragging you along, hoping you would eventually become something worth investing into, and yet here you are, creating all sorts of ideas and delusions about why your voice was never listened to.” Salvador’s voice was chiding, sounding like a father talking to an especially impatient toddler.

When Yuna spoke, she sounded almost bored. “Come on, Philip. Would there be any reason for me to accept your confession when there were so many better options around me? Even beyond that, can you blame us for our actions? It was your own incompetence that caused our pain. You were the one whoran away, refusing to stand up for anything. You didn’t want to face it, and you gave in at the slightest of touches. Now, at the very end, you’re just looking for excuses again. Do you think that accepting your selfishness will really make up for it all? Once more, you’re just trying to comfort yourself, completely unaware of your own sorry state.”

Finally, as though he were waiting to pounce, it was Oscar who spoke. “Boy…you found power unimaginable, and yet, you still found yourself at the wrong end of a sword. Despite all of your best efforts, you failed, again and again. The reason I would never accept you into the Wedge Office is because of your own incompetence. The words of comfort you heard were merely my attempts to keep you useful until the bitter end, and you failed even at that. Do you truly believe that you could be touted as someone to be proud of? That your own skills and experiences were enough? You couldn’t even carry your own weight, let alone make up for the weight of the tombstones you’ve been slinging around your neck- and those tombstones dragged us all into an early grave. It’s all your fault, Philip.”

“They’re right, and you know it. But you don’t have to listen to them. Why would you subject yourself to pain? I know it hurts to hear. There’s no reason to accept their words as fact. If you merely choose not to listen…you can choose to never feel that pain again.”

His hands came off his ears. He didn’t even realize they had gone there.

“You all…just went off and died on your own…”

Something was shifting within him. The clown was watching silently, its painted-on smirk somehow wider than before.

Salvador sighed. “Oh, Philip…you’re as stupid as ever. You could have chosen to remain and fight. I put my trust in you, and time and time again, you failed me…”

Don’t be afraid to flee if the battle grows too tough...and don't be afraid to see everything through until the end.

Yuna scoffed. “You even left me to die alone.”

We need you in this fight. You’re really not too shabby, so show me some more of that spirit!

Oscar sighed. “And all you’ve done since is drag others into your own battles. You’ve never been able to resolve things without harming others, so why don’t you drop the facade? We both know you’re despicable.”

Your competence at such a young age can take you very far; farther than Salvador or I could ever hope to reach. I truly do have high hopes for you.

His head was full of static. The inside of Salvador’s coat felt like it was burning red hot, blistering his skin where it rubbed against the fabric.

“Just close your eyes, and this feeling will fade…”

…What an intoxicatingly sweet prospect.

Slowly, Philip’s eyes closed. As they did, a different hand, one clawed, not belonging to the clown, curled around his shoulder.

“...It would appear that you require assistance.”

This voice was smooth. It wasn’t one that he had heard before. Philip remained silent.

“Not feeling quite talkative, are we? Well, that’s fine. We have all the time in the world, so let’s talk step by step. When a person feels victimized or vexed, all they need is a helping hand, someone to pull them out of the quagmire of emotion that they have found themselves in. I shall be that hand for you.”

When Philip found his voice, it was small. The fire within him felt fragile. “Can you…make my wish come true?”

“All you need is to speak, and I shall provide what you need to make them come true. I can give you the strength to take revenge on that prankster before you, or I can give you weaponry powerful enough to destroy the Library and take back everything you have lost. You may regain your ordinary life, continuing on as you are, or you can gain something more, if only you wish it. But…you must speak.”

For a long, long moment, he stayed silent.

The voice in his head was overwhelmingly loud. That woman was whispering words into his mind, and yet they were louder than anything he had ever heard before. Telling him to give up, to give in, to close his eyes, to cover his ears. The edges of that power he gained in the Library were fraying. He could feel them reacting to his emotions, stretching, acting as though they wanted to consume him.

All he would have to do was let them, and he would never feel pain again.

All he would have to do…was take the hand that was offered to him, and everything would be peaceful and calm again.

He had no expectations for himself. No courage, no reason to continue. There was no reason to deny what was offered to him.

No reason…at all.

Was that…the truth?

…Those memories…those feelings…were they really wrong to cling on to?

Even that woman from the Library...she told him to...

“Just forget them. Let them fade away. Even if you’re left with nothing, that’ll eventually be the case anyway. If you know you’re going to lose all that you care for, why not give up everything now to spare yourself the pain?”

This despair, this lament…it would all go away if he gave in.

But…these emotions, this pain…they felt…

Weren’t they…just as real as his happiness?

Even if his doubts were right, and even if he suffered the most pain and sadness out of everyone, was that any excuse to give up?

Time and time again, he had given up. Time and time again, the people around him had told him to keep trying. To do his best.

To deny these emotions, to pretend the pain doesn’t exist…wouldn’t that be the pinnacle of selfishness?

To suffer, and then to shirk responsibility for that suffering…it would be the absolute most vile thing imaginable.

That was the only conclusion he could come to- the only truth of his reality that mattered.

It took an immense amount of effort. With every ounce of will remaining in him, Philip slowly opened his eyes.

The person before him was another Distortion. A man closer to a skeleton than anything else, with a long tail curling out of his back. With a top hat, monocle, and a snazzy suit, he looked the pinnacle of class.

Philip knew he was teetering on the edge; the edge of what, he didn’t know. All he knew was that, if he fell to one side or another, it would be irreversible. He didn't feel like he'd grown at all from the person he was just a moment ago...but now, he was certain that he'd grown more stable. He wouldn't tilt and fall on his own anymore.

That power…it was creeping up around him. The wax spread, covering his other arm and the rest of his body, leaving only his head exposed. The fire burned even hotter within the armor, and the core pulsed with strength. Philip felt calmer than he ever had, despite the blistering heat that burned his skin, contained within the armor.

The clown was watching silently. It unfolded its arms. That smile of his had fallen somewhat.

“Anything…you’ll grant any wish of mine?” His words were quiet.

The skeletal Distortion nodded. “Anything at all.”

Shakily, Philip inhaled, then exhaled carefully.

His wing snapped outwards, becoming rigid.

His sword glowed with incredible power.

The voice in his head retreated, finally quieting down for a moment after so long of listening to her droning on and on.

This…would be the last time he would be able to make a decision like this. If he chose to stand up and face the truth…he would never be able to run away with a good conscience ever again.

“Then, my only wish…”

“...is for both of you to GO TO HELL!”

Chapter 3: To Open One's Eyes

Chapter Text

It hurt. Of course it hurt. Choosing to open your eyes and face the truth would always be painful.

When he lashed out, his sword coated in fire, all Philip knew was that he wanted to give in. The burning of the coat, the burning of the armor, it all suffused him with such warmth that it wouldn’t be far-fetched to say that his entire body would be dry in a matter of minutes. And yet…he still chose to fight. He still raised his sword at the first person who had offered to share in his sadness. That Distortion, regardless of his intentions, had been sincere in his offer- he would have given Philip the power to do what he wished. He likely still would.

Maybe, in some way, Philip was still turning away. Whether it was through ignoring everything and everything that might have given him flak and tried to hurt him, or by blindly pressing forward and ignoring the sources of pain that scorched his body, he would still be refusing to face the truth. Maybe he was simply having a tantrum. Maybe he would be called childish. Who knew? At the moment, he had decided on one thing, one, singular truth- nobody but him could bear his guilt.

If it was his fault that Salvador and Yuna had died, and if he brought the Wedge Office to their doom, then he would bear the burden of that guilt forever. If it was only him who deluded himself into thinking that he was loved, then that shame would be his. No matter what manner of power came his way, it wouldn’t make him any less of a sinner. They had put their trust in him, and he had failed. That was the simple, raw truth. Attempting to ignore that truth would only bring him even more pain. If he chose to cry soundlessly into the night, and if he chose to abandon even his selfishness, then that would be denying such a core part of himself that he would never be able to recover.

That was why…he was choosing to trust their trust. Salvador, Yuna, Oscar, even Pamela and Pameli…they had been willing to entrust their backs to him. They had given him support every single step of the way. He would selfishly believe that there was more to himself than what he saw, regardless of how egotistical it sounded. He would have faith in that trust.

The things he knew to be true, the things he wanted to believe, and the dark doubts that he held were all culminating within him. The pounding emotions that festered deep within his heart were begging to be let out. Having been pushed that far, there were only two things that he could have done- lash out, or give in. He chose to lash out, despite how exhausted he was, despite how much he ached to rest and close his eyes.

His sword felt stronger than before. The fire felt more stable. His body was hotter than ever. Sweat was dripping down his forehead as he struck out, his blade coated in even heavier flame. The skeletal Distortion, however, splayed his fingers, and a completely unfamiliar glyph appeared above his hand, blocking some of the blow. What went through, however, was far from little. The Distortion was blown straight through one of the walls of the circus tent.

The clown sighed. “Aw, man…your scent is all fragrant again. You were beginning to stink so deliciously, you know? What a shame, what a darn shame!”

Philip took a stabilizing breath. When he moved, he felt the newfound armor moving alongside him, shifting like tendons. The waxy substance was both terrifyingly tough and flexible…truly an unmatched piece of gear. “I’ve heard enough out of you. The Eight O’Clock Circus will be no more after today.”

The clown yelped, waving his arms around and miming panicked motions. It would have been comical if Philip weren’t so furious. “Oh no! I don’t want to die! You’ll help me, won’t you, mister performer?”

Before he could ask what the clown meant by that, a figure stepped through the hole in the tent wall- the same Distortion from before. While his uniform was scuffed, there were few signs of damage. Unease rocked Philip’s heart. That blow had killed the man in black- Roland. It had barely left a scratch on this opponent.

“Of course, Oswald. My apologies for not introducing myself beforehand. I am Pluto, a representative of the Reverberation Ensemble. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” At that, Pluto bowed low, and Oswald huffed.

“Not impressed. We have the same fragrance, but you’re so hoity-toity! Where’s the smiles? Where’s the laughter? Come on, can’t you act as free as you are?”

…How was he supposed to handle this situation? Pluto was strong- stronger than Philip. He took one of his strongest strikes head-on…no, he blocked it with that strange power. A Singularity? No matter what, he needed to figure out what it was in order to beat him.

“Freedom is something that will only be granted to me once we have fulfilled our mission. We can grant your wish too- a wish for a world of your own making. I will show this boy the error of his ways for you and discipline him, and all I request is that you hear out our leader. He ought to be here shortly.”

“...Discipline? I’m not a child!” Philip grit through clenched teeth, his jaw straining with the force of his anger.

Pluto cast him a slantwise glance. “You are hardly more dangerous than you were previously. Your E.G.O…it has merely solidified. You are no closer to completing it than you were previously- you have only granted yourself a half-hearted determination. Breaking that determination will not prove difficult- choosing a path, after all, is far different from walking it. Now, Oswald, your answer?”

E.G.O? What the hell is he talking about?

“Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm…I thought you wanted to perform with me, but I guess not…what a shame. Well, I’ll hear you out! Your idea sounds interesting. If I can make a world where everyone can laugh…”

“I’m not letting either of you get out of here!” Philip growled, finally fed up. His exhaustion had been washed away by the fire within him; striking ahead was far from impossible for him.

His sword burst forwards, a flash of fire inside a dark, damp, and dreary room…

…and Pluto snapped his fingers.

With just a blink of the eyes, he found himself somewhere else.

Philip staggered forwards, his boots landing on unsteady ground. It seemed like he was out in that dark forest again…but he was just in the tent. This was just like…

Distantly, he registered a sound.

His wing curled to protect him just as five attacks landed on it.

…And ‘landed’ was truly the only correct word to use, because they felt like little more than tiny swats.

Confused, he hesitantly lowered his wing, unsure of what the intent behind the attack was. As he did so, Pluto stalked into the clearing that Philip had been transported to.

“I feel as though I must apologize in advance for what I am about to do to you. I have been instructed to gather as many Distortions as possible, and yet, on the very brink, you instead manifested E.G.O. You must understand, then, that attempting to deny the most perfect world will only result in pain for yourself. Rejecting the only hand that will never deceive you is a sin to your most true form.”

“...I’m a coward, and I’m selfish, but I’m not a liar. What you see is what you get, regardless of how disillusioned you may be with it. I’ve made my peace with that, and this power…E.G.O, or whatever…it’ll be plenty enough for me to beat you, especially with attacks like that.”

His glare grew even harsher through his bloodied glasses. Pluto merely laughed. “You are certain, then? You will deny that woman, whose voice you can hear even now? You will face me in battle, despite knowing the outcome?”

…Her voice? But, she’s gone…

…right?

The thumping in his ears, the blood in his veins, the fire in his body…he could barely hear his own thoughts over the adrenaline. What made him so sure, then?

…Wait…

If he focused, if he listened ever so closely, if he searched…

He could still hear that voice.

It was faint, barely a murmur, and far, far quieter than it was before. But when his emotions weren’t running so high, when he wasn’t so laser-focused, would she still be there, whispering for him to give in, to close his eyes, to accept his ‘true’ self, just like the skeletal creature in front of him?

Maybe. Philip had no way of knowing at the moment.

So, for now…

“Of course. I can’t back down now. You’re all monsters who need to be put down. I’ll fight you until the end.”

And right as Philip spoke those words, the perpetual smile carved into Pluto’s skull somehow seemed to grow very much so wider. “And so, the contract is sealed.”

With a snap of the fingers, five scrolls of light suddenly burst into existence in front of Philip, each of them holding long-winded text.

You will constantly regain your energy, but you must expend it all within a certain time frame.

You cannot defend with your wing, but your sword will grow more powerful.

You cannot attack multiple times consecutively, but each individual strike will be more powerful.

Certain attacks will grow stronger, but you must use attacks of the same strength for a set time frame.

Your flame grows hotter, but you must suffer a certain amount of pain from it within a set time frame.

These were…they were all contracts. All of them had his name signed at the bottom.

His eyes wildly bounced between each, attempting to read the conditions. The fine print- there was so much-

“Having trouble keeping up? Perhaps you ought to have been more cautious. There’s no time to be worried about the details; your time has already begun, after all.”

“You damn- GAH!” Out of nowhere, a sudden, searing pain suddenly started burning through him, almost bringing him to his knees.

“Don’t look so vexed- that is merely the price of breaking the contract, and you shall pay it in multitudes every time you disobey the terms you agreed to. Ah, I must mention, the contract was proposed to you as soon as you entered the clearing, with the conditions for consent being ‘to accept a battle with Pluto or Oswald’.”

It was those attacks. Those small, innocuous pings against his wings. Philip was panting. He glanced up at the contracts, his body still burning.

One minute. That’s the time frame. Every minute, the entire fight changes.

Such insane conditions, and the ability to actually enforce them…this has to be…Yesterday’s Promise.

A skeletal Distortion, who specializes in contracts…

Yesterday’s Promise…it was strong. Far, far stronger than he could face.

The Distortion in front of him…it was a threat that Philip couldn’t deny, and to the him of yesterday, it would have been absolutely, irrevocably impossible to defeat.

Because Yesterday’s Promise was a Star of the City, several orders of magnitude stronger than the Library as a whole.

To face a foe of this caliber and win was said to be nigh-impossible for any single combatant. Even Colors have fallen in the face of these threats.

Still…he had already decided not to give up. He wouldn’t roll over and give in just because it was hard. Not anymore.

Desperately, Philip approached, rearing his sword back, flame gathering within him-

And right before his strike landed, a creature of shadow, donning Philip’s exact countenance, appeared before him.

His sword slammed into the doppelganger’s wing. With a loud scrape, it was barely deflected, and the shadow immediately slashed out with a mirror image of Philip’s own sword. Instinctively, his wing moved to cover him…but because of the contract, it stopped just short. The sword cut at him, slicing against his armor.

Philip recoiled away from the blade, surprised. “What the-”

“A perfect recreation of you, down to your physical form, capabilities, and stamina. A shade indistinguishable from the Philip who exists before me. Quite the magical marvel, wouldn’t you agree? I imagine that you will have your hands quite full with him.”

As Pluto spoke, a strange barrier was erected around him, shimmering with arcane power. Logically, Philip knew that something like magic couldn’t exist, but the Distortion in front of him was forcing him to reconsider that thought.

A barrier, and a perfect recreation of me that doesn’t have to abide by those stupid contracts.

A Star of the City level threat that I can’t even face directly, while under all of these conditions…

How the hell am I supposed to win?

Is it…even possible, even with this power? This E.G.O?

…He didn’t know.

Today…really might be the day that he dies.

“But…I won’t…give up!” Philip grit his teeth, raising his sword.

After a long moment, Pluto sighed. “It would be quite the waste to kill you. An incredible waste, in fact. Therefore, you have two choices- you can accept your true emotions and join us, or you can return to the Library.”

“I won’t be doing either of those!” Becoming the same type of creature as them…it was a nauseating prospect. Especially now that he's already made his choice.

Pluto clicked his tongue. “Then you will die, regardless of what may be lost.”

With that, the shade leapt back into battle, and Philip prepared himself for the first truly impossible battle he would ever experience.

Of all the problems that arose within the City, Lowell would never have imagined that it was what came after them that would be the hardest.

Paperwork. Plenty and plenty of paperwork. As the Director of Liu South Section 2, his workload never seemed to cease. With the onslaught of the Distortion phenomenon, that paperwork only mounted higher and higher.

It was only thanks to the constant support of those around him that he’s made it as far as he has. Cecil and Mei, two of his most staunch supporters among the Fixers he had under him, were constantly giving him aid; not out of obligation, but of their own volition. They were even in the office with him now. There was no one he could rely on more than them.

Well, there was one person, but…

“Lowell.”

Almost as if his thoughts had summoned her, the door to his office opened, and a very familiar face walked through. His dampened mood brightened instantly.

“Xiao! What brings you here? Is something wrong?”

Xiao. His wife, and the Director of the Liu Association, South Section 1. Their paths had often intersected in the past because of their positions, so it wasn’t all too strange to see her in the office, although this time there wasn’t any outstanding case that needed their attention. This was, for once, a surprise to him.

Xiao looked as composed as ever as she began to talk. “Somewhat. I’ve received a request.”

Lowell furrowed his brow. “A request for you, or for the Liu?”

“Both, which is the only reason I’m entertaining it at all. This is also linked to the Distortions.”

“...So it’s serious, then.” He folded his hands, giving her his full attention. Cecil and Mei both paused their work to glance their way.

“Indeed. Yesterday morning, a request found its way onto my desk from the Wedge Office. They’re nothing notable, but their sister office was the Dawn Office, where Salvador worked.”

The gears in his head were turning slowly. “...Salvador. He was…”

Cecil chimed in at his confusion. “A war veteran, and quite the hotshot in his prime. Now, he’s just a washed-up old man.”

“Was a washed-up old man. The request stated that the Dawn Office, save for one of their Fixers named Philip, was wiped out in the Library, which was just recently reclassified as an Urban Nightmare.” Xiao crossed her arms, looking miffed.

Mei hummed. “So, what did they want from us?”

“...The leader of the Wedge Office, Oscar, has long ties with Salvador. Apparently, according to the actions that Salvador took before his death, he believed that the Library was a threat that could rise to a Star of the City. Knowing that, Oscar made arrangements for the remaining Dawn Office Fixer to flee from the Library if something went wrong, and planted a distress beacon on him. That beacon was activated last night within a forest in District 10’s Backstreets.”

“Around J Corp? That’s far from the location of the Library.”

Xiao nodded. “It was expected for him to resurface near the Library itself. The fact that he didn’t was the first thing that drew my attention.”

Cecil had a somewhat inquisitive look on her face. “Director Xiao, might I ask why you bothered to investigate this at all? Surely it isn’t worth mobilizing the Liu for a single Fixer,” she argued.

“I agree, it isn’t. I would very well have moved on and left it as it was, were it not for the reward. The Wedge Office was an Office that specialized in analytics, but they took out a truly egregious amount of insurance. He offered the payouts of both his own insurance and that of the Fixers beneath him if we would take Philip into our ranks.”

Mei began furiously typing into her computer. Lowell scowled. “Quite the generous offer. Mei, what Grade was-”

“Grade 5, boss. He wouldn’t fit in around here, but maybe we could find some use for him.”

Xiao nodded. “I had Miris look into it in his free time as well. There was nothing impressive about the boy, and I was prepared to shelve the matter entirely. His presence would likely bring us down overall.”

“But there was something that changed your mind, right?” Lowell pressed with a knowing smile. Xiao was a very intense person that came off as cold and heartless, but he knew his wife well. She would have at least looked into the matter before deciding to disregard the request, and seeing as to how the boy was transported somewhere he shouldn’t have, it would have raised a red flag about the Library. The least she would have done was offer him asylum until he could get back onto his feet

She unceremoniously dropped a report in front of him. Skimming through it, his eyes widened.

“Two employees within a company in J Corp suddenly went missing after a smoke break. This isn’t particularly unique, but when a friend of one of theirs investigated briefly, they saw a brutal ongoing fight and with a forest fire trailing behind the combatants. One of those combatants was Yesterday’s Promise, and the other was Philip.” Xiao announced for Cecil and Mei.

That drew everyone’s attention.

Cecil was the first to express skepticism. “A Grade 5, going against a Star of the City? Are we sure the reporter wasn’t on Enkephalin?”

“There’s pictures…Mei, does this look like Philip?” Lowell asked, handing the report over to his underling. The picture itself was grainy, clearly taken in a rush. What was clear, however, was that there was a wing flared behind the Fixer, and his opponent was Yesterday’s Promise. Mei took one short look at it and furrowed her brow.

“I mean…it looks like the guy, I guess. Not sure what’s up with the gear, though. The Dawn Office used Stigma workshop weaponry, and I think I would’ve remembered if they sold stuff that looks like that.”

“The location of the distress beacon perfectly matched up with the location of the report. The battle is also drawing closer and closer to the Nest. J-Corp has extended notice that they may need our expertise if it continues, because no average Fixer or Office will take the job. Not only that, but V-Corp has been dancing around the matter of the Distortion. It seems like they’re tempted to hire us.” Xiao explained.

Liu’s expertise was all-out war. Total defeat of the enemy, without a single hint of loss. There was nobody better to call on for a situation such as this.

“He’s lasted for that long against a Star of the City? It’s been well over twelve hours.” Cecil murmured.

Still… “I’m hesitant to place our bets against a Star of the City without any preparation. Are you certain that we’ll win?”

He was forced to ask that question. Normally, it was the other way around- Lowell would be the one to jump into a foolhardy situation in order to aid others, while Xiao would coldly deconstruct the best possible outcome that sacrificed the least lives, but even he had to acknowledge that jumping in may cause more harm than good, especially when the opponent was as nebulous as Yesterday’s Promise.

Xiao closed her eyes for a moment, thinking. “I’m…unsure. There are certain Colors within the vicinity that can engage in battle if they have to, although getting their help may prove to be an issue. If things go badly, we’ll extract the boy from the situation and live to fight another day.”

For her to express uncertainty…

Lowell thought for a long, long moment. Cecil and Mei were staring at him, waiting for his decision.

If he made the wrong call here, he could be sacrificing a lot more than just a few Fixers- he could escalate this battle into something that they would otherwise have no hope of handling. Xiao wouldn’t have come here if she didn’t need his help- not when it came to a request as serious as this.

“...We’ll help out. Cecil, Mei, gather your equipment.”

“Roger that! How many men are we bringing?” Mei gave him a snappy salute.

“For a mission with such a low payout for its difficulty, I normally wouldn't want to bring in a large taskforce, but I don't think we have any other choice this time. Gather anyone who still has the energy to fight. I know the work day is over, but we’ll take anyone for this- even volunteers. I might catch some flak for doing this- the president is likely already keeping an eye on both us and this case- but there’s too many unknown variables to leave it be.” He gave his commands quickly and succinctly. Cecil nodded, already in the process of excusing herself. Xiao watched them work, a small smile on her face.

“Thank you. I feel a lot more confident working with you.”

Lowell gave her a small smile. “That’s what I should be saying to you. Just having you at my side makes me feel like we can win no matter what.”

She gave him a tentative, warm smile. Just by looking at her, seeing that expression on her face, he felt more confident, like he could take down anything and everything.

Mei glanced between the two of them. “Oh! Director Xiao, did you come to us because you wanted to flirt with Director Lowell?”

He immediately felt himself go bright red. “Mei!”

Xiao looked as composed as ever. “If you have time to tease your superiors, then you have time to prepare. Get ready. This is a serious matter.”

Mei sighed. “Yeah, that’s the Maiden of Iron for you. Couldn’t rattle her if you tried.”

Xiao huffed, turning around, probably to get ready.

…But despite her words, Lowell didn’t miss the faint hint of red around her ears.

Suppressing a giddy smile, Lowell gathered his equipment.

Despite the contentment he felt at seeing and working with Xiao again, he would have to be careful. Even though the Liu were competent, that didn’t mean they could let their guard down. It would be the first time in a while that Section 1 and 2 cooperated…

They would get through this together, as they always have.

Long, panting gasps.

Blood poured down his head.

He didn’t know how long he’d been fighting. It felt like an eternity.

Philip wearily raised his head, his vision hazy. Pluto was barely winded.

He had managed to defeat his own shade several times. Unfortunately, that only left him a small window of time to damage Pluto, and the Distortion was a very competent fighter even on his own. The barrier only fell when there was no shade to harass Philip. Had it not been for the fact that Pluto had given him the contract that returned his strength to him, Philip would have collapsed a long, long time ago.

Fighting under these conditions was hellish. He didn’t have time to worry about anyone else. Distantly, he was aware that he’d been forced back time and time again. They had left the forest a long time ago, a trail of fire following them.

Occasionally, he saw flashes in the corner of his eye of people watching from afar. Nobody dared move in to help him. Tch. Couldn’t really expect anything else. Before, he would’ve done the same, even if it was only an Urban Plague- let alone a Star of the City. You have to measure your generosity in a place like the City. A stranger isn’t worth dying for. Most of the time, they aren’t even worth the change in your pocket.

“Your tenacity is admirable, but you’re one foot in the grave. I truly will have no quarrel with you if you merely fulfill one of my requests.” Pluto spoke almost leisurely as he raised a finger, a glyph appearing in front of it and firing several beams of pure power at Philip. With one strong swipe of the sword, he sent all three beams flying, the energy piercing through several buildings around them.

…And just as he did that, intense pain burned through his body. His legs lost their strength, a silent scream echoing through his throat as he bit his lip so hard that the taste of copper immediately filled his mouth. Damn it, too much strength-

There was a small rush of wind in front of him. Hazily, Philip looked up.

Pluto held an invitation to the Library in front of him. Hovering behind the man was yet another shade, fire swirling around it, ready to use Philip’s own strongest attack against him.

…He was exhausted. He couldn’t do this anymore. If he tried to fight, he would be cut down before he could even stand. If he did nothing, the price of breaking the contracts would kill him.

Shakily, he reached out, taking the invitation and the offered pen. In the middle of the street, Philip sat, staring at it in quiet, muted anger.

Slowly, the pen moved.

If I go to the Library…I’ll die for certain. He’s shipping me off to die, wrapped up in a neat little bow, all for them. How does he benefit from that? Think, damn it! Are they in league with each other? These Distortions and the Library…no matter what, they must be linked. I didn’t get this E.G.O until I entered the Library…and I couldn’t have Distorted until I got it.

“Fifteen seconds left.” Pluto reminded him, a bemused expression on his face.

His pen halted, staring down at the invitation. He’d written all but the last two letters.

…Wait, can I…

Shakily, his pen made three strokes.

This…is all I can do.

If it doesn’t work…

All at once, Philip rose, the fire within him swelling to a crescendo, sword striking outwards, contract be damned-

-but the shade was faster, its blade already reaching out towards his heart.

And, in one patient, fluid motion, Philip raised the invitation, blocking the attack.

The shade’s sword couldn’t be stopped. It was moving too fast. The trajectory was predictable, its pattern and aim long since determined.

The tip of its sword dotted the final I in Philip’s name, and both the shade and the invitation vanished in a singular moment, teleported off to the Library.

With the shade gone, Pluto’s barrier would fall- and fall it did.

Philip’s strike, already in motion, landed squarely in the chest of an unprepared Pluto, the full force of his strength completely undeterred.

Pluto was sent flying, the fire curling around Philip blazing hotter than ever. He panted as he watched the Distortion slam through the wall of a building, a hole burned through its suit.

The condition...was that I couldn't block with my wing. There was nothing written about anything else.

…Hah. That would’ve been impossible…if the shade wasn’t an exact copy of me.

It was a gamble…but it paid off, huh?

Either way, if it didn’t work out…I was dead.

…But there was no time to celebrate.

The price of breaking the contracts hit him all at once.

Pain unending wracked his body.

Without the ability to even cry out in agony, Philip blacked out.

Angela furrowed her brow as she stared at the shade in her foyer.

It was completely immobile, staring straight ahead. Until she approached it, it didn’t seem like it would move or react at all.

Roland sucked in air through his teeth. “Man, this is gonna be rough if this guy is as tough as you said. It’s only a copy of him, but even I saw how well he was holding up against a Star of the City of all things.”

Angela was thoughtful for a long moment. “...Don’t be so hasty in your judgment. That Distortion was not a combat specialist, despite how powerful he was. That is not mentioning the contracts altering his battle prowess and the Distortion's unwillingness to kill him. In addition…That is not a fully realized E.G.O. This, I am certain, we can manage.”

“...Huh? Wait, what is it, then? That gear of his got bigger and made a full set of armor, so it should be complete, right? What, does he need a helmet?”

“Not quite. To put it as simply as possible, what Philip developed when he faced you was little more than a shell, encapsulating a baby bird. If he chose to remain inside that shell, I believe he would have become a Distortion. What Philip has done, however, is persistently begin to poke at the shell from the inside. There are cracks in that shell…but the very act of choosing to break it has made him more powerful. Only once it breaks will he truly gain the strength to fly.”

“Hm…sounds a bit too complicated to me. Hey, do you think I’ll get one of those things one of these days? Imagine how kickass that would be.” He let out a wide smirk. Angela watched him idly as he delved into his own fantasy world.

“E.G.O is not something that is idly gained. Philip was pushed to the absolute brink of his tolerance. It was his selfish mind that chose to attempt to change his ‘self’. By acknowledging his flaws and choosing to face them wholeheartedly, he's begun to go down the path of realizing an E.G.O. Kind as you are, I doubt that you’ll be able to create something like that anytime soon.” Her words were quiet, her mind somewhere else. It was only upon noticing Roland’s somewhat wide-eyed expression that she realized what she had truly said.

“Aw…Miss Director, that means so much! I didn’t know you thought so highly of me!” His words were mocking, a small, smug smile on his face. She ignored his snide expression. While it was refreshing to have someone who was willing to joke at her expense without truly meaning any malice, she still wasn’t in any mood to be returning that gesture- not until after her newest guest was removed.

“Get to work unless you want to be spewing popcorn for the rest of your time here.”

“Yes ma’am. Sorry ma’am.”

Xiao’s expression was set in a firm line as she walked through District 10’s Backstreets.

Lowell and her had managed to cobble together quite a solid plan. Now, it would only come down to if their men were capable enough to execute it.

She walked alone. With every step, her coat swayed against her body. She gripped her sword tight. If there was anyone who could approach the scene of the incident casually, it would be her. If nothing else, she was confident in her own strength.

…She had reached the scene, and just in time, it seemed.

There was a man crumpled to the ground in front of her. His body shook, hands quivering and curled into tight balls, but he made no other sound and took no other action. There was no other way to describe his condition aside from abysmal.There were few parts of him that weren't bruised or bloodied.From the look of him, it was the Fixer from the Dawn Office, Philip. What he lacked, however, was the telltale wing and armor from the pictures. Seeing them absent made her question whether they were faked or not.

However…what could not be faked was the opponent.

From a collapsed wall of a dilapidated building walked Yesterday’s Promise.

The Distortion was walking with a limp, clutching its side. Its tailored suit was mangled in one spot, and it clutched that spot as it walked. If such a thing as a scowl could have existed on its face, she was certain that she would see one.

“The Liu Association… I must wonder why you have appeared here now.” Yesterday’s Promise grunted.

“Consider it a special request.” Xiao responded coolly.

The Distortion let go of its side. The hand that covered the wound came back somewhat red with blood, although the location of the wound was almost pure black. Distantly, she registered the scent of burning flesh.

It raised its hand, strange glyphs appearing in the air next to it. Xiao unsheathed her sword, eyes narrowing.

…But before either combatant could take action, a lilting melody filled the clearing.

With a blur of blue, someone appeared next to Yesterday’s Promise- and Xiao grit her teeth.

“My, Pluto, you’ve taken quite the amount of damage. What took you so long?”

“My apologies, Sir Argalia. The boy proved difficult. He caught me off guard and consumed an invitation.”

Argalia…and that blue…this was a Color.

The Blue Reverberation.

“Ah, what a shame. Those are difficult to come by. Well, if it’s come to this, then we’ve come too far to let up now. We ought to get something for your efforts. Don’t worry, I can handle it from here.”

“...My thanks, Sir Argalia.”

At that, Argalia turned to look at her, a teasing smile on his face. “So…My apologies, but could you hand the boy over? I don’t want to make this any bigger of a deal than it has to be, and I’m certain that you don’t want to give up your happy life for someone like him, who abandoned even his comrades.”

The Blue Reverberation…I don’t know why he’s helping a Distortion, but there’s no reason to be concerned. We came prepared to face someone of his power.

“Even if there’s nothing I can do to stop you…I still won’t let you take him without a fight. I’ll face you with everything I have, as the Director of the Liu.” Xiao planted her sword in front of her, etching an expression of determination on her face.

The Blue Reverberation looked somewhat displeased. “Very well, then. If that’s what you insist, I can afford to tango for a while.”

With a flourish, Argalia brandished his scythe, and Xiao narrowed her eyes. He took a step forward-

“Sir Argalia, wait.”

Argalia paused. “What’s wrong, Pluto?”

“...This is an ambush. They seek to defeat both of us in one fell swoop.”

It was only through careful control of her emotions that she didn’t scowl.

Argalia regarded her with a much more calculative look. “...Ah, I see. That’s why you’re willing to fight me, even though winning would be impossible. I thought it was strange that someone as busy as you would be here without any Wing asking for your help. In that case…it doesn’t seem like there’s anything we can do.”

Yesterday’s Promise nodded. “They have us outnumbered heavily. While we could win handily under normal circ*mstances…it seems that we are both injured, correct?”

Argalia smiled. “That’s right. Oswald was a bit too playful. He’s cooperating now, though. Our ensemble is almost complete.”

Xiao was silent, watching the two converse but never lowering her guard.

“What exactly are you planning for the City, Blue Reverberation?”

Argalia turned to her. “Oh, trying to pick my brain? You haven’t earned the right to that answer yet. Perhaps you’ll realize it all on your own at some point. For now, let’s call this a draw. Mutually assured destruction isn’t the path to my goal. We’ll be taking our leave, so you can take yours as well. We’ll leave you be for today.”

His casual, dismissive tone ticked her off, but there was nothing to do for it at the moment. If she rushed forwards, she would be the one walking into their trap; the plan would fail and the ambush would never work. Attempting to seem weak and isolated had already failed, and losing the edge of preparation would secure their total defeat.

“...Very well. A draw, then.”

With a snap of the fingers, Yesterday’s Promise created another one of his glyphs, and in just a moment, both the Blue Reverberation and him were gone.

Xiao let out a small breath, both of annoyance and relief.

She glanced down at the boy. “Get him some first aid. We didn’t come all this way to watch him die on the pavement!” She barked. Almost immediately, one of her men came out from his spot for the ambush and got to work.

Lowell was at her side in only a moment, giving her a reassuring glance. He had been placed closest to her- both of them were prepared to launch waves of fire to clear the way for their underlings to swoop in while they recovered from exhausting that much strength at once. “That was the right call. We could have killed Yesterday’s Promise if not for the Blue Reverberation.”

She nodded slowly. “Right. But…you saw that wound of his.”

She cast a glance at the boy who was receiving urgent medical care. He would need much more extensive help than what was being provided- no new limbs, fortunately, but the rest would be equally as expensive.

Lowell followed her glance. “Looks like we’re both thinking the same thing. He was the only one who could’ve done that. He’s got quite a lot to answer for when he wakes up.”

Xiao was silent for a long, long moment- in the end, she didn’t answer him at all.

What awoke Philip was a dull, throbbing pain.

He was lying in a bed, wrapped in bandages. His entire body hurt. Burns trailing up and down his chest throbbed incessantly. His head felt fuzzy, and judging from the amount of bandages that were wrapped around it, it was because of a concussion. His lip hurt from when he bit into it so often while fighting Pluto. His hands hurt especially, the bones creaking every time he tried to move his fingers. Judging by the cuts on his palms, he must have dug into them when he passed out- or maybe even before that.

…How long had he been fighting before he collapsed? It felt like forever. His entire body ached even outside the pain.

Slowly, he opened his heavy eyes.

White, fluorescent light met him, and he squinted. It was hard to see anything beyond that without-

“Oh, you’re awake. Here, you’ll probably be wanting these.” An unfamiliar voice spoke next to his bed, and a head appeared before his hazy vision. After only a short moment, glasses were placed on his nose, and everything snapped into focus.

He blinked, still adjusting to the light. A man with dark red hair hovered over him, a small, reassuring smile on his face. Philip swallowed. “Who…”

His next words came out as a hacking cough, and the man helped ease Philip into a sitting position. Now that he could see a little bit further, he noticed that he was in a small ward of some kind.

“My name is Lowell. I’m the Director of the Liu Association, South Section 2. It’s nice to meet you, Philip- and I’m sorry about your glasses. Yours were essentially destroyed, and these are new.”

Lowell brought a small cup of water to Philip’s mouth, and he drank gratefully. “...Nice to meet you, too. What happened with-” Another cough.

“Yesterday’s Promise escaped. He got help at the last minute. Right now, you’re at my branch of the Liu Association, so you’re as safe as can be.”

Tch. Of course his enemy got away. He couldn’t even make up for anything…couldn’t destroy the Library, couldn’t kill the Eight o’Clock Circus, couldn’t kill the one who tried to tie him down…

All he got out of it…

“On that note, Philip…I have quite a few questions to ask you.” Saying that, Lowell placed something in a syringe in front of Philip. Worry spiked in him.

“...And what do you have there?”

“This is a serum from K-Corp. Using it can instantly rejuvenate someone back to perfect health. It’s extremely expensive, and there are several other patients we could use this on. If you want this serum…well…”

“If you answer my questions truthfully, then we can have a long partnership.”

“And if you lie, then I have no qualms about kicking you to the curb and leaving you to die as you are.”

Chapter 4: To Cherish Another

Chapter Text

For a long moment, Philip felt like he was paralyzed by Lowell’s expression. To call it a glare wouldn’t be correct- the man didn’t hold any malice, but somehow that made it feel all the more menacing. He truly would kick Philip to the curb if he lied- and in his current condition, that couldn’t be anything other than a death sentence. Just the act of talking alone was painful; there was no way he could fight off even a group of Rats, let alone the Sweepers or anything else that came for him.

But…there was no reason to be afraid.

These people were with the Liu Association, and if they were to be believed, they had saved him. There were very, very many worse people to be indebted to.

Lowell was strong. That was the only reason that Philip was afraid from the outset. An ingrained fear, learned from so long of being so weak…

“...Right. I’ll answer anything you ask of me.” Not because he wanted the serum, but because he truly wished to cooperate. He didn’t want to feel lesser because of his weakness anymore.

And just like that, Lowell smiled, and any intimidating atmosphere he may have created vanished in an instant. Despite that, he was still professional as he began to speak. “Name?”

“Philip.”

“Grade and Office?”

“5. Dawn…formerly Dawn Office.”

“Last mission taken?”

“To destroy the Library, contracted by the Zwei Association.”

Lowell nodded slowly. His expression grew somewhat more stern. “Tell me what happened in the Library- the first time you went in.”

“...I tagged along with my master, Salvador, and my seonbae, Yuna. They died. I survived because they told me to run. Master…he gave me- his coat!” A sudden flash of panic surged through him. He had been stripped of his gear. A hand on his chest stopped him from sitting up any further.

“Relax. It’s perfectly fine. It’ll be returned to you soon. Now, what is the nature of the Library?”

He took a calming breath, feeling the panic dissipate slowly. “The…nature?”

“The way in which it operates. What happens after it receives its guests, how you fled, and how to destroy it.”

“...Destroying it…, well, let me start from the beginning. When the Library receives you, you’re first greeted by the Director- Angela. She’s part human and part machine, and can’t be killed conventionally. After you’re greeted, you’ll enter through a set of doors into a ‘floor’. There are multiple…and I have no idea how many. Each one has a group of librarians. Three, from the two floors I saw. As for how I fled, well…I just could. I ran, and the doors opened. You should know that the librarians also take the skills and gear of the people they fight.”

“The conditions for getting to another floor?”

“Killing every single librarian on one floor. They turn into light and become books, and can be revived later. That’s also how they drag in more people…they offer the books of the people who you love, giving empty promises about how they’ll give them back if you’re only strong enough to win. It’s a rigged game.” He spat, anger starting to boil within his gut.

Lowell watched him impassively, face a stone wall. “I see. That’s enough about the Library for the moment.”

He regarded Philip fully and completely, and he could already tell what question was coming.

“You’ve been in a coma for the past two days. Before that, you were facing Yesterday’s Promise using a set of workshop gear that couldn’t be located afterwards and whose origins could not be explained. What, exactly, did you use, and how did you acquire it?”

…Two days…

“...It’s not workshop gear. I didn’t buy it. It’s something else. That Distortion called it E.G.O. All I know about it is that it’s a power that came to me in the Library, and that it’s somehow linked to the Distortion Phenomenon.”

He was holding back, just a little bit. There was no reason to mention the voice. Not when he couldn’t hear her right now.

“How is it linked?” Lowell folded his arms. The only tell of his surprise was the slightest narrowing of his eyes.

Philip paused for a moment, wondering how best to put it. “Yesterday’s Promise and the Eight o’Clock Circus were trying to push me to become a Distortion. I…probably could have, under the right circ*mstances. I barely know how it works. I’ve only had the power for less than a day…”

Lowell was quiet for a long moment. “The Eight o’Clock Circus as well…that must be Oswald. Did the name Argalia come up at all?”

Silently, Philip shook his head. “The only thing he mentioned was something called the Reverberation Ensemble. I don't know anything about them, either. That day was the first time I’ve ever seen a Distortion.”

Something about the name seemed vaguely familiar, like he should know something about it, but he was drawing a blank.

Lowell looked disturbed. “I see…that sheds much more light on everything. Before we talk any further, I want to discuss that E.G.O of yours some more.”

After that, Lowell barraged him with questions about the gear- what it did, how he got it (he didn’t know), whether he could call upon it at any time (he couldn’t), and far, far more.

They talked for an exhaustive amount of time on that particular topic. He didn’t really have the energy to stop him, nor did he have the choice.

Eventually, Lowell was satisfied. He stood slowly, massaging his neck.

“Did you get all that? Xiao?”

Philip stared up at him, uncomprehending. Who was he-

-and from the door, a woman dressed in a very fancy getup walked in. Just from her posture alone, Philip could tell that she was someone to be respected. His back almost straightened from her sheer presence.

“I heard it all. E.G.O doesn’t seem like it’ll be reliable for use in the Liu, with how sporadic his answers were.”

At her words, he felt a strange sense of shame. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t know anything, so why did he feel apologetic?

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you more,” he said, almost forcing himself to say the words.

Xiao looked him up and down. “If you don’t know, then you don’t know. It isn’t your fault that there’s no instruction manual. Above anything else…you said that you might have become a Distortion. Is that still a possibility?”

He lowered his head…and after a long moment, he shook it. “I don’t think so…not anymore. They tried to shake me up using my doubts, but I barely managed to pull myself together…and when I did, my E.G.O got stronger.”

Lowell glanced at Xiao, a worried expression on his face. . “How close was it?”

“...Very. One or two more pushes, and I could have…but there’s no need to worry about that anymore. I’m confident in myself. I won’t break down again.”

“Then the only person you can thank for that is your master.”

At that, Philip slowly raised his head. A small smile formed on Lowell’s face. “You’re going to tell him?”

Xiao returned the look. “I’m content with what I’ve seen from him so far. Besides, M-Corp’s Singularity isn’t as hidden as the rest.”

“What…what are you talking about?”

Xiao leveled him with an even stare. “...The inside of Salvador’s coat was lined with moonlight stone. The entirety of the Liu Association uses it as part of their uniforms. Although the stone was somewhat old, it still functioned perfectly fine. That stone amplifies your sense of purpose and shields your mind. It’s because of that stone that our members can face Distortions without panicking at the mere sight of them, and it’s likely because of that stone that you kept a rational mind.”

His eyes fell back down to the sheets. Master…you gave me something so valuable?

“Of course,” Lowell chimed in, “that doesn’t mean that it’s all-powerful. It can only amplify a will that already exists. You only made it that far because it was possible for you in the first place.”

Slowly, he nodded. “I…I see.”

For a long moment, all three of them were quiet. It was Xiao who broke the silence. “The reason we came to help you wasn’t out of the goodness of our hearts. We received a request from the Wedge Office, asking to take you in if something went wrong. We can’t force you, but the reward will go to us regardless. It’s up to you.”

Oscar? He did all that for me? Why? He didn’t seem like the type to take unnecessary action…

…But, it was only when her words were processed properly that he truly began to realize his situation.

He didn’t have an Office of his own. The Dawn Office consisted of just him now, and he doubted that he could keep it afloat at this point even with this strength. Without money or contacts, there was no work, and every contact he might have made was now solely in this room.

There was nothing else for him to do. He had cooperated so far, hoping to help bring down the Library, but realistically, could he even take it down himself? He grew stronger, but not by his own virtue. If this power somehow left him, or if he were to lose control of it, then he would go back to being as useless as ever.

…In that case, it would have to be mutual exploitation. Until he could get his footing, he would go with the Liu Association. He had no other choice. It was the only way he could survive.

“...I’ll gladly join. It’s a chance of a lifetime…I’d have to be stupid to turn it down.”

Lowell tilted his head, not looking surprised in the slightest. “In that case, we’ll need to test you. You’re lucky- Xiao has already agreed to put you through the wringer. It’s not every day that an ordinary Fixer gets to spar with the Director of Liu Section 1.”

…She’s…the Director of Section 1?

Someone like that…is going to fight me?

Philip watched in dismay as his sword was sent flying out of his hands once more. Xiao’s boot whipped around, slamming into his cheek and sending him sprawling. His wing couldn’t react to protect him in time.

Xiao wasn’t the Director for nothing- her skills were more than the real deal. Even though this was a casual spar, he’d been told to use his E.G.O again after a few rounds, and she’s been kicking his ass the entire time since. In the corner of the training room, Lowell watched, bemused. Figured he would find it funny. He’d given Philip the K-Corp serum and was now getting to watch all the progress get undone in real time.

Philip just couldn’t keep up with her. Unless he went for that blazing finishing strike that he used before, he wasn’t good enough to beat her, and even if he did, he got the feeling that it wouldn’t be enough.

This experience…it also taught him a few more things about his E.G.O in general.

That woman’s whispers only got louder and louder the further he pushed himself. It was like walking on a tightrope; even if he wasn’t at any risk of falling, there was still a yawning chasm beneath him, and the faster he tried to walk, the worse his balance got. Of course, knowing that didn’t really do anything to help him, but he was already floundering in his search for answers. Anything he could get, he would take.

It was also fueled by his emotions. The stronger he felt, the stronger his E.G.O. He could use his most powerful techniques quicker, his armor got more sturdy, his wing grew more flexible…It was an incredible boon, with the only tradeoff being that he needed to get pissed, depressed, or giddy.

Right now, he was feeling pretty depressed, though.

Before he could recover his sword, Xiao let out a sigh. “Alright, I’ve seen enough.”

His head snapped up. He hadn’t even been able to do his best yet-!

“Grade 3.”

Xiao’s words made him pause. “...Grade 3?”

“Without your E.G.O, you are as good as the average Grade 3. With it, you fluctuate between a low Grade 2 and a high Grade 1, and that unique technique of yours is comparable to a strike from a Color. Sorry, but that's just in terms of power. Your skills are lacking. I won’t sugarcoat this for you- you need training, badly. While Salvador taught you what he knew and you learned it well, it’s not up to the standards of the Liu Association, and it certainly won’t be enough if you want to topple the Library. We don’t accept charity cases here. If you’re going to join us, you can’t fall behind just because you couldn’t rely on your E.G.O in a pinch. That’s the fastest way to get you and your own killed- only the strongest have the luxury of being lazy.”

Grade 3, when I was a Grade 5 before. Has the E.G.O made me stronger, even without using it?

“...I understand. Thank you for your guidance, Director.” Philip bowed in deference.

Because like it or not, she was correct.

He’d been toddling along with makeshift skills ever since he got this power. Cobbling together techniques, following his instincts, none of it was cohesive. It hurt his pride to admit that she was right, but if there was anything he needed to cast aside, it would be that. A Star of the City was after him; he didn’t have the option to be prideful.

Lowell was watching silently. “Grade 3, hm? Just around the minimum for the Liu…but I think we can work with him.”

Xiao glanced at him. “He’s a special case. I wouldn’t take him if not for that power.”

…For some reason, hearing something like that felt both terrible and affirming. Knowing that it was a singular opportunity that made him worthy, instead of his own skills, stung, and badly. But, at the same time, knowing that it made him good enough for the Liu made him feel a lot better. They were the Association for combat, and master had ties with them going all the way back to the Smoke War.

Lowell’s gaze turned appraising. “So, which one of us is taking him?”

Xiao shook her head almost instantly. “I won’t. Our tactics are too much to drill into a newbie’s head from the start. He’ll be useless in formations for too long.”

“In that case, Section 2 will be more than happy to have him. We’ll make sure it all works out.” Lowell gave Xiao a reassuring smile, his face, expression and very aura seeming to ease up.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you. You’ve always done exceptionally well.”

At that, Xiao gave Lowell an expression that Philip hadn’t quite seen before. Her stern expression, which she had worn all the while she was sparring with him, was nowhere to be seen. For just a flash of a moment, the look on her face was achingly warm and kind. Her smile lit up the dimples on her face, and it was then that Philip realized exactly why he had never seen it before.

That expression…it’s love. Pure, simple love.

Nobody…has ever given me a look resembling that.

But the moment passed, and Lowell turned back to Philip. “One of my Fixers will help get you set up. Working for an Association is an entirely different environment than working for an Office, so don’t expect to run wild on your own like you did with the Library. We’ll enter it only if we’re contracted. Understand?”

“...Yes, sir. I understand.”

For a long moment, Lowell sized him up. “...How about, when you get a break, we go out with some people from Section 2 for lunch? There’s this great sandwich shop that I know of, a real hole-in-the-wall. I go pretty often with some of my subordinates. Food will be on me. You up for it?”

“Ah- yes! That would be…nice.” He trailed off, raising his head. He hadn’t realized that he had lowered it in the first place.

Was he…being meek, again?

Lowell was strong, and he could be menacing if he wanted to be, but Philip could already tell that he was a good man. The difference between the two of them couldn’t be more like night and day. He was a selfish coward who needed to rely on a sudden power to take control of his life, whereas Lowell had clearly worked for what he had gotten through due diligence. On top of that, he was now Philip’s direct superior. It made sense to show deference to him, at least, but…almost instinctively, he was treating him the same way he treated Salvador. Like he was an unreachable existence, like he was someone whom Philip had to show the utmost respect to at all times.

…He wanted to have more confidence. Achingly, desperately, Philip wished to have the self-assuredness with which both Xiao and Lowell moved. It only took one short spar with her and one short talk with him to realize that they were much more stable and much more mature than he was. So selfishly absorbed in himself, he couldn’t even realize just how far he was lagging behind.

So, inwardly, he tried to steel his resolve. Entering the Liu Association…it would be the start of something new for him. A new challenge. A fresh start. He didn’t want to have to be a coward to survive any longer.

He wanted to make new friends, forge new bonds, become stronger and stronger, just like Salvador and Oscar believed he could be…

The first month at his new place of work was a blur.

The Liu Association was strict. So long as he was still the new kid on the block, Philip would need to be whipped into shape. Without activating his E.G.O, he was the worst fighter in Section 2, and even with it, there were a few that could fight him to a standstill or even beat him. It was a harsh reality check- even though he had survived against a Star of the City and even caught him off guard to deal some damage, it wouldn’t be enough to keep up.

Section 2 prioritized unity in their battles, aiming to minimize casualties instead of aiming for the quickest, most decisive victory possible like Section 1. The Liu Association’s specialty was fire, just like the Dawn Office’s was. It made the learning curve a lot easier for him; not that it wasn’t still hellish.

Being within a new Association meant that he got to learn new fighting styles. Day in and day out, he trained with his entire body. They trained both with and without weapons, meaning he had to learn a whole new method of fighting with his hands and legs. Sparring against Xiao had taught him just how effective that could be. The exhaustion that he felt after fighting for so long because of the Library soon became common. His body just sluggishly accepted the abuse that he was hurling at it. He even got the fast-track to recovery the first time because of the K-Corp serum; there was no such option now. He just had to suck it up and train.

His gear had also been improved. Salvador’s coat had been returned to him after a day and a half. The moonlight stone within it had been replaced, and when he looked at it now, he could see the fine gold the stone created that was dominantly displayed on the outside as well as a firm tied-off length of red, proudly displaying his new affiliation to the Liu. There was also a required uniform, which he donned without complaint. It served a much more important purpose than his previous clothes, which were hastily cobbled together and layered with some protective cloth. No, this suit was actually built with heavy combat in mind by a professional. His sword had also been upgraded and he’d been put through some mandatory human augmentation procedures, meeting the standards of the Liu Association.

All in all, Philip felt more competent and more exhausted than ever. He hadn’t had much time to himself, but he wasn’t expecting any in the first place.

“Hey, Philip, mind running to the Director’s office and dropping off these papers?”

…Oh, that was Cecil. She’d been the one looking after him for a while now. Director Lowell was too busy to show him the ropes, so she’d been assigned as his babysitter. She took the job a lot more gracefully than he would have thought, though. He got along with her a lot better than he did Pameli or Pamela.

“Yeah, of course.” He accepted without complaint. Since he just got done with training, he had a bit of downtime, but not really anything to do with it. He still reeked of sweat.

It had taken him a while to learn the layout of the main Office of Section 2. The building was huge, bought and paid for with the Liu’s massive coffers. Training facilities, in-house barracks, cafeterias, the place was functionally a self-sufficient military base.

He departed from the training grounds, leaving the poor training dummy (they had collectively decided to name them Jeremy) alone. Lowell’s office was the most important room in the building. Anything important that happened in this Section had to go through him, and any newbie who tried to ask for something stupid would get stone walled by a stern nature. Of course, Lowell really loosened up when he was off work, but…

Philip sighed, knocking on the door. “It’s Philip. Cecil sent me with some documents, sir.”

“Come in.” Lowell’s voice was as calm and composed as ever.

The inside of the office was as cluttered as it normally was. There were places to sit and open tables to entertain guests, but the desk was busy. Organized piles of paperwork, several cups full of pens, a computer setup, and a tired man behind it.

Philip neatly dropped the documents where Lowell wanted them- as far away from his hands as possible. “Was there anything else you needed while I was here, sir?”

At that, Lowell’s hands paused. “...Philip, how long have you been here without a practical field exercise?”

…Was he finally going to do some work? “The whole time. It’s been a month.”

“Gather your equipment. We’ve been hired to execute an operation against a Syndicate that’s gotten a bit too strong a bit too quickly. They messed with the son of a very, very rich man from V-Corp’s Nest, and he wants payback. I’m sure you should know the area well.”

“I know the Nest pretty well, but the Backstreets…”

District 22’s Backstreets were chaotic. A winding mess of roads and gangs. The Syndicates were even more unruly there, even though the Fingers were just as dominant, so it was no surprise that someone got in over their heads and tried to go for a high-profile target.

“Don’t worry too much about that. We already know how to take advantage of the terrain. Just trust in yourself and the people around you.”

Worry began to sprout in his chest. “Director Lowell, sir, I don’t think this idea is very good. We’ll be entering the enemy’s home turf. Even if we’re strong, even good Fixers can-”

“...Philip,” Lowell began, cutting him off, “I don’t accept jobs that I cannot complete.”

That shut his mouth. “But..."

“There’s no need to look so down. I’m not scolding you. If anything, I’m reassuring you. The Liu Association will always win every encounter we take on, because the Liu Association only takes battles that are already won. Superior information, superior strength, and superior tactics. Even if we’ve never personally set foot in that portion of the Backstreets, we already know it better than those who live there. We do not lose- we are a dragon that shall always soar. So long as our members remain resolute, so too shall our mission; so long as our mission is resolute, so too shall be our victory. If you ever doubt me, remember this- if I ever accept an impossible job, it will be because I had no other choice, and even then, I will do my best to face it head-on. I won’t allow my men to die so easily so long as I still live and breathe.”

…Director Lowell had a certain talent for putting people at ease. Philip could easily see how he had gotten to the position he had.

Faith…he needed to have faith in the Director. No matter what they did, Lowell wasn’t the type to lead him to an early grave.

“I understand, sir. I’ll gather my equipment.”

“Oh, and Philip, before you go…”

Lowell paused, trailing off. Looking thoughtful, he curled a hand around his chin.

“...Sir?”

“...Make a reservation for two at HamHamPangPang, for an hour and a half from now. I’m itching for an early lunch.”

“We’re going to eat before the battle?” he asked, bewildered. Normally, doing that was discouraged; a strong hit to the gut had wildly different effects depending on its contents.

At that, Lowell simply smiled. “Where are we going to find an hour and a half to dawdle before a battle? This mission will be completed well before then.”

“...Huh?”

Philip took a slow bite out of his sandwich, still somewhat amazed.

Director Lowell was extremely good at his job. He was absolutely correct in his estimate. They reached their destination in District 22 within a short time frame, even with a somewhat large group of Fixers. They’d managed to infiltrate the weak points in the security of the building, knocked out a few vital walls and supporting beams with some well-placed attacks, and sent the majority of the building crumbling. With the enemy caught completely off-guard and scrambling, they were free to move as one cohesive unit and mop them up. It took next to no effort, despite the group being designated as an Urban Nightmare.

So…this is what the Liu can do.

It was so dramatically different from what he knew. The Association seemed to close the gap between an information Office and a combat Office and make it non-existent. Lowell’s plan was superb, but it could only be executed so well because they were strong, and without the plan, they would’ve been fighting an uphill battle regardless of their strength.

This place treated war as an art form, and they were masters at it. For the first time since joining, he felt like he actually was beginning to understand why the Liu Association was both feared and revered.

The after-battle cleanup would be the part that took the longest, to be honest. Their client had no qualms about them killing anybody they came across within the Syndicate, but there was a shocking amount of paperwork and legal trouble that went into an Association taking on a job. They had to be professional, they had to be succinct, and most importantly, they had to be certain. There couldn’t be any room for error in either the paperwork or the fighting, or else they would get ripped alive by someone or other.

Lowell, however, had decided to shelve said paperwork for after lunch, which led them to now- it was just him and Lowell inside a sandwich shop, the same one they had visited when he was first inducted into the Association. At that time, there had been several other people, but this time, it was just them.

He’d never felt quite so awkward before in his life.

“Director…why, exactly, are we here?”

“Hm? Didn’t I tell you that I wanted to go get an early lunch?”

“...I…”

They were both still covered in blood and dust.

Lowell didn’t seem to have any qualms about that fact, but Philip felt grimy. The looks they were getting from both patrons and staff ranged from disgust to horror.

That didn’t stop them from getting served, but…

“Lighten up, Philip. There’s not going to be any better time in the day to eat. When we get back to the office, there’s gonna be even more paperwork. Tell you what, I’ll take you out of your training for the day to learn the ropes of it, how about that? Cecil and Mei already learned when they joined years ago, so it’s your turn now.” Lowell’s tone was laid-back as he spoke, casually biting into a sandwich. Philip did his best to repress his frown.

Really…what am I doing here?

I would really rather be training right now. The Library…I still need to get their books back. I’m doing well, but…will it be enough to beat over six skilled opponents? I don’t think so.

“...Lowell, sir. If you just wanted to eat lunch, you would have brought the entire team. Why did you insist on just the two of us?”

Lowell was quiet for a long moment, chewing and swallowing carefully.

“...The Library was designated as a Star of the City this morning.”

His blood ran cold.

“A…Star of the City?”

Lowell nodded slowly. “I understand that you want to face it again, right? At this rate, your opportunity is going to come sooner than you thought. Do you think you’re prepared?”

He swallowed.

…Am I prepared? Mentally, yeah. I still…want to take them down. They took everything from me…it’s their fault that I’m even stuck in the situation I’m in now. If the Library didn’t exist at all…

…His E.G.O was reacting within him, somewhat. Stretching out, the frayed edges aching to curl around him and wrap him in their searing warmth…

…but physically…I can tell that I can’t win. Not alone. And if I involve the Liu Association…would the same thing happen that happened with the Wedge Office? Would I just be throwing more sacrificial lambs onto the pyre, all for the sake of my revenge?

“...No. I'm not ready.”

The words came out bitterly. He didn’t want to say them at all. But, in the end, it was certainly the truth, beyond a shadow of a doubt. He couldn’t beat Pluto on his own, so how could he beat the Library? Someone like Lowell or Xiao would be much more suited to try something like that…

At his words, Lowell smiled. “That’s good to hear. You know your limits, at least. Rushing off as you are now would only get you killed. I don’t want to have to cry over anyone else that I care for, so if you tried something stupid, I was prepared to lock you down.”

That simple declaration sent a shiver down Philip’s spine. Cecil, at some point during their long talks as she was training him, had told him about Lowell’s fighting style- always quick to retreat if there was even a slight disadvantage. If Philip rushed in…that would put all of them at risk, wouldn’t it?

Lowell was protective over all of his Fixers. He refused to allow a death if it could possibly be avoided. It made for a lot more work, but it also made for significantly more consistent and loyal subordinates. That was why he had been so standoffish to Philip when they first met- because he couldn’t assess whether Philip was a threat to him and his own or not. That look he gave him back then…Philip had received it once more, if only for this short moment.

“I understand why you would do that. I would probably do the same, in your position.” It bit at his nerves to admit. His pride was still wounding him every step of the way.

Lowell folded his hands in front of him. “That being said, there’s something that I want to discuss with you. You’re aware of the differences between Section 1 and 2, right?”

Philip blinked. “It’s the strength of the Fixers and the tactics used, right?”

“Right. Section 1 is the strongest of the Liu Association’s southern branches. Xiao is the Director of that Section. And…it’s the Section that you’ll be transferred to starting next week.”

For a long moment, Lowell’s words simply did not register with him.

“...Transferred?”

Lowell snapped a finger. “You want to get stronger and go to the Library, right? If you want to take down a Star of the City, you can’t half-ass anything. You have to be certain in every aspect of your tactics if your strength is lacking. It’s the only way to bridge the gap between you and a superior opponent. That being said, you can’t just slack and assume that your opponent will remain as they are. The Library has grown at a terrifying rate. Most incidents are labeled as their rank and rarely change, but it’s gone all the way from a Canard to here in just a few short months. The only way to beat that rate of growth is to push yourself impossibly far- and Section 2 can’t do that for you, Philip.”

“Wh-Why not? I’ve been learning so much, and-”

“You’re stronger than you might think. Even without that power of yours, you’ve been learning and growing at an incredible rate. In two or three months, there won’t be anything left for you to learn from us. But Xiao can easily take you in and make you much stronger than you are now- and when Section 1 is inevitably called to handle the Library, you’ll be able to fight alongside a much stronger person than I am. Her contacts are more expansive, and she’s a legendary figure even among the Liu. You’ll be in good hands with her, I promise.”

“I…”

Damn it, that’s not the point. The reason I don’t want to transfer…why I don't…

“It’s because you just want to hold the new bonds you’ve made tightly, isn’t it? You’ve already moved on. You’ve accepted that you’re the murderer of Salvador, of Yuna, of Oscar and Pameli and Pamela. Steeped in your own selfishness, you’re prepared to let even more die just so you can feel content in the friendships you’ve made…”

…Hah.

He had a headache.

He wasn’t remotely prepared to deal with the sickening, festering emotion that brewed in him from her words.

He wasn’t prepared to mentally dissect the fact that she was right.

So he just closed his mouth and slumped in his chair.

Lowell might have noticed his condition. He didn’t really know, or have any way of telling. “...Tell you what, Philip. I know you might want to stay, since you just got settled in, so let me make it up to you. I’ll do one favor for you- within reason. Just tell me what it is.”

For the longest of moments, Philip was silent.

“There is…one thing.”

Lowell didn’t say anything, merely gesturing for him to continue. When Philip spoke again, it was with a muted, dry voice.

“How did you and Xiao fall in love?”

Lowell blinked, clearly taken aback. “Of all things, you chose that? I’m sure that you could have asked someone else for the story; there’s plenty of gossip to go around. But, since you asked, I’ll answer. In short, there was nothing special to it. We didn’t make any special effort to fall in love, it was simply something that happened.”

“It just…happened?” Philip repeated, baffled.

“Yeah. I won’t downplay it and say that we never put any effort into a relationship, but at the same time, it wasn’t something that we had to fight tooth and nail over. We’re both highly skilled Fixers- we didn’t have any time to dedicate to flowery romances. Xiao was always one of the most impressive, unbreakable walls of steel around, and I certainly wasn’t the first man who was ever charmed by her, but I was the one who first approached her as a human.”

Approached her as a human, huh. With Yuna…did I ever do that?

Lowell was still talking, a slightly distant expression on his face. “It was extremely tough at first. We didn’t like each other at all in the beginning, and we were polar opposites in everything. But, eventually, we began to intersect more and more outside of work. Slowly, our lives began to intertwine, and one day, I realized that every time I thought of the future, Xiao was there with me in that future by my side. I told her as such bluntly, because there was no other way to get through to the Iron Maiden. The feeling was mutual, and not too long after, we were married. We didn’t ever walk into our relationship with any expectations. Our first and most vital rule is that neither of us will lose our cool if the other falls in battle. Without her, though…I don’t think I would be nearly as strong as I am now. My heart, at least, has hardened.”

At those words, Philip swallowed.

The reason he had asked…the purpose of this all…

There's nothing I can ask of him that'll help me with combat, so now, I just want to know...

Was there…ever anything lovable about me?

Even if seonbae had answered my confession back then, what would be the result? Even now, now that I’m more competent, now that I’ve grown stronger, now that I have a more powerful body and techniques and position…

…have I moved even a single step from the person I was back then?

But to speak those words aloud would be to sentence them to reality; it would be to affirm them to his mind. To create the illusion of falsehood, he would keep them buried as deep within as possible. Even if it was simply closing his ears to the truth…Philip knew very well that his mind could not accept the fact that his efforts were for naught.

So he closed his mouth and spoke softly. “I see. Thank you, Director. Our lunch break…it’s dragged on for quite some time. We should-”

“Stop.”

Philip froze mid-motion.

“...Director?”

“...The Liu are people who fight unwaveringly, without expressing a single emotion. In that manner, I truthfully don’t think you’re a great fit for us at all. However, you’re strong and you’re capable. I imagine, given proper care, you could become one of the best Fixers in the city, regardless of what Association you’re with. That’s the potential I see in you, and it’s the potential I see in your emotions. Right now, you’re holding them back. You wouldn’t have asked me a question like that for no reason…so I’ll elaborate, just a bit, on how I feel, even if it’s embarrassing.”

Philip felt stuck. Lowell had perfectly managed to freeze him in place with just a few well-timed sentences.

“Xiao and I…we cherish each other. That’s the start of it all. Our relationship didn’t begin with any other feeling in mind. There wasn’t a search for gratification, and we didn’t see a need to exploit each other. When we brought each other to our most raw, base states of mind, we needed each other, not because of any external factors, but because of how much we cherished each other. A quiet, stalwart love is what drew us together- it wasn’t fueled by lust, or greed, or any sort of craving for anything except each other’s hand. Philip…the person that you loved, did you face them with the same courtesy? Xiao was forever and will forever be the Iron Maiden of the Liu, but to me, she’s simply the woman I love the most in this world, regardless of her title. Putting others on a pedestal separates them from you, whether it be in love or in status. The ability to see others clearly and look beyond the surface…the fact that both Xiao and I have that ability is what drew us together, ultimately. So, I want you to think about it- truly think, Philip- did you give the object of your affection the respect they truly deserved?”

Did I…respect Yuna?

Or was I just putting her on a pedestal?

The reason I liked her…it was because she was strong, and respectable. She showed me the ropes, and she had a certain charm to her that I just couldn’t keep my eyes from.

But…doesn’t that just sound superficial? I respected her as a Fixer, but did I ever truly know what she was like?

She always seemed annoyed with me over something or another. Whether it was my slack-jawed expression whenever we worked together or the constant smell of ssanghwa-cha in the Office, she was never pleased with me. I always wanted to impress her, and I truly tried my best, but…

…in the end, did I ever truly know what would have made her happy?

Were my feelings for her…even more than a basic desire for affection? Was she ever anything more to me than just something I wanted?

Was I always so superficial?

But, if that’s the case, then doesn’t Cecil meet so many of the same conditions? Why don’t I have any feelings towards her? Why do I still constantly keep thinking about seonbae?

How…do I really feel?

…He didn’t know.

He couldn’t parse his own feelings at all.

Lowell must have seen the inner conflict on Philip’s face, because he sighed after a long moment and ruffled his hair. “It isn’t something to worry about like this. Most people are superficial in ways that they can’t possibly notice. I’m far from perfect myself, and Xiao and I have our fair share of fights. That being said, if you know you’ve treated someone poorly, you should at least attempt to treat those you meet in the future better, whether it be a first love or a coworker. Do you understand?”

He swallowed, trying his best to numb his emotions. “Yes, sir. I get it.”

“Attaboy. Now, come on- we’ve gotta get back to the office. Don’t worry, I won’t actually saddle you with a bunch of paperwork- I’m not that cruel. You’re getting all the training I can cram down your throat, though. Use that time to think about how you feel.” Lowell’s gentle instructions roused Philip from his slump, and slowly, he stood from the table.

The pair of them left HamHamPangPang in a dramatically different mood than they arrived, and Philip couldn’t tell if it was something he would bounce back from in any timely manner.

Lowell let out a long sigh as he stretched, raising his hands high above his head.

“Director, sir, have you given any thought to that order?” Cecil asked him quietly. To his right, Mei paused what she was doing, not quite looking over but clearly paying attention.

Both of them were tense. He couldn’t blame them.

“...Yeah. I’ve already arranged for Philip’s transfer. I’ll buy more time until he’s out.”

Mei let out a short whine. “We really have to go through with this?”

Cecil shot her a rebuking glare. “It’s an order from the president of the Association. We don’t have a choice in the matter.”

“Can’t we just bring the kid along? I mean, he clearly wants-”

“You know very well what the nature of this mission is, Mei.” Lowell interrupted her quietly.

The already poor mood of the office plummeted.

Cecil was gritting her teeth. “...Director, if I may be excused?”

Lowell nodded slowly. “Our work is finished for the day. Go home, Cecil.”

Mei looked between both Cecil and him as the blond-haired Fixer stalked out of the office. After a long moment, she followed after her friend, not even asking him for permission.

As the door closed behind them, Lowell let out a long sigh, rubbing his temples with his hands. The texture of the gloves he wore were familiar, at least.

Lowell was confident in himself. He believed in the people he worked with, in his underlings, in his own power. He knew his capabilities and had executed hundreds of successful operations in his time.

But even he had his limits.

There was one, singular reason that he hadn’t brought Philip in to help with the post-op paperwork, like he had done for every single rookie in his Section after their first mission.

Sitting on his desk, the last piece of paperwork remaining, was a singular request from the president of the Liu Association- and on top of it sat an invitation.

Enter and destroy the Library within the week.

Use whatever methods are necessary.

Chapter 5: Selfish and Cowardly

Chapter Text

Moving to another Section so quickly was jarring.

The friends he had made within Section 2 were now behind him. The routine he had carefully crafted, the small space of comfort he had carved out for himself, was snatched away. Perhaps it was for the best. A man like him would do nobody any good by getting comfortable.

Philip was given a quick crash course on what was expected of him. To be honest, it wasn’t much. If the Director called on him to fight, then he fought; if she didn’t, then he trained. Section 1 was much more cold-blooded than Section 2. It wasn’t that surprising- Director Xiao was said to be hard-headed even among the Liu. Her results were beyond exemplary, however, which more than made up for the aura of stone-cold professionalism that seemed to seep into the very brick and mortar that comprised the building.

It had been a full week since his conversation with Lowell. He was still unsure of if he should have, or even could have, said something to prevent the transfer. He might get stronger here, but…

“Philip. With me. The Director wants to talk to us.”

Miris. He was Director Xiao’s direct subordinate. She seemed to trust him more than most, from how he was one of the ones who did the most work for her and ran the most errands. Mentally, Philip made a note to not stand out too much.

Silently, he nodded, following along after Miris. The red-haired man was quiet as they moved through the building quickly. The discipline of Liu Section 1 couldn’t be understated; there wasn’t a single hint of wasted time even though the building was chaotic, full of Fixers either returning from work or taking care of more.

“Do you know what the Director wants from us?” He asked conversationally.

“No.”

…Not too chatty.

The pair of them were in silence for quite a while. It was Miris who broke it.

“Philip, why did you join the Liu?”

…I wanted to exploit you, and be exploited in return. “This place can make me stronger. I want to take down the Library.”

Miris was quiet for a long moment. “You’ve never fought in a proper battle formation before, and a single month in Section 2 will not be enough to integrate into the strongest of the Liu. To put it bluntly, I’m worried you’ll drag us down. I have the utmost faith in Director Xiao. She is the one who can drag victory from the jaws of the worst of defeats. What I don’t have faith in is you. While I’m sure that you’re competent in your own right, it’s unheard of to bring a greenhorn into Section 1.”

They’re all valid concerns.

“I’ll do my best to prove myself to you, sir.”

Miris gave him a sharp glance. “I’m not the one you need to prove yourself to. My opinion doesn’t matter. Prove yourself to the Director.”

“...I won’t let her down.”

They were in a staunch silence until they reached her office.

“Director Xiao, it’s Miris. I brought him.”

“Bring him in.”

The inside of Xiao’s office was eerily similar to Lowell’s. It made him wonder if their organizational skills carried over from their married life.

Xiao looked Philip up and down. “I can tell from just a glance that you’ve gotten stronger. How was Section 2?”

“It was…good, I suppose. I can’t complain about anything.”

“Would you say that you meshed well with Lowell’s style of combat?”

“It was familiar. The Dawn Office worked the same way, just less effectively.”

“Then I want you to forget what you know and rely on what you’re going to learn. I’ll be frank with you- I don’t know why Lowell sent you in my direction. There were several reasons I denied taking you in at first aside from your physical strength. Your personality doesn’t mesh with the people I typically work with. If you hold us back, you’ll have no place here. Understand?”

…Everywhere I go, it’s the same. ‘You won’t do well here.’ ‘I wouldn’t want you in my Office.’ ‘You’re strong, but…’

Why can’t I just be accepted as I am? What dysfunction do I have? Is my personality really so poor that nobody would take me in?

“...I understand, ma’am.” Philip managed through gritted teeth.

The critical glare she was giving him didn’t lessen, but perhaps it did change in nature. “Good. Hah…what a time for him to cause a ruckus. Do you know why you were called here today?”

Philip watched as Xiao stood from her desk, strapping her sword to her belt and slipping into her coat. “No, ma’am.”

“You’re the first new member that Section 1 has gotten in quite some time that didn’t receive direct approval from the president of the Association. Because of that, and because of your unique circ*mstances, I’ve been asked to bring you along when we take on a difficult job. On that note, we’ve been given one.”

Miris startled. “Director…?”

Is it…

“Don’t look so excited. We’re not going to the Library. Miris, go and gather our best squad. V-Corp has hired the Liu to investigate the Distortion phenomenon. With that said, there’s no one better suited to face one of them than us. Our target today is the Blood-red Night. We’re to gather as many samples as we can, and if possible, defeat her.”

“Ma’am…the Blood-red Night is a part of the Reverberation Ensemble, is she not? Isn’t this-”

“There’s no need to be concerned, Miris. I won’t charge blindly into a battle. We’ve taken this mission in the wake of the Vermilion Cross. Just recently, it was reported that he fell in battle against the Ensemble, but that he scattered and wounded several of them. We’re to take advantage of this moment of weakness to collect as much data as possible, and the Blood-red Night is said to be the weakest in single combat. It’s been carefully calculated.” Xiao’s explanation was patient and thorough. Philip’s shoulders untensed.

The Reverberation Ensemble…those gaggle of freaks that took in Oswald. All of them are Stars of the City, and they’re even led by a Color.

“So you’re bringing me along with you to handle a Star of the City level request?” Philip asked quietly.

Xiao gave him a slantwise glance, laying a hand on the pommel of her blade. “The rank or grade of the opponent is irrelevant. All that matters is victory- and I will not allow defeat. Suit up. We’re heading to Nest L.”

…She’s not being arrogant or conceited. She’s just confident. Believing in your own victory above all else…how strong do you have to be to get that?

Miris clasped a hand over his heart. “Understood, ma’am. We’ll prepare.”

Xiao looked at Philip. Her eyes seemed cold, and the very expression on her face seemed to raise words of respect from his chest. “I won’t let you down, Director.”

“...I should hope that you won’t.”

Section 1 moved differently than Section 2 did.

Both Sections had fighters that were expected to uphold the utmost professionalism and fight without emotion until absolutely necessary. They valued victory in warfare and completely annihilating the enemy with total superiority. In all-out war, the Liu Association eclipsed even the Hana Association, although the latter only recruited significantly stronger members.

That being said, Section 1 moved in a much more uniform manner, with much more confidence. While Section 2 focused on a strategy that was capable of beating a quick retreat at any time, Section 1 didn’t leave any avenue for escape. When a battle began, you fought until you won or died.

The reason for this?

Because a man who could run would turn his back to receive a knife in it long before he fought to his fullest.

When Chun, another of Xiao’s subordinates, explained that to him, Philip felt that he finally understood why Xiao was so adamant about not wanting him in her ranks- because a coward like him, always willing to run away…could never have worked with such a rigorous mindset.

…They were entering Nest L.

L Corp had fallen not too long ago, during the White Nights and Dark Days incident. Philip noticed this in particular because their electricity bill had quadrupled- and that’s not an exaggeration. That corporation supplied energy to the entire City, and both the main headquarters and every single branch collapsed in such a short amount of time that everyone in the entire City was sent reeling from it, rich, poor, corporation, Association, or Office. In the wake of that fall, there was nobody to manage Nest L. Now, it’s fallen into disrepair, if nothing else. The Fingers were constantly badgering the Liu for control of the Nest, not to mention a massive power struggle among the people of the Backstreets.

That wasn’t what they were here for today, however, and if Philip let himself get distracted by other thoughts, then he would start to drag everyone else down.

He was sandwiched right between Chun and Miris in the back. Xiao led the charge, as usual. The Maiden of Iron was the strongest here, and as the Director, she could make snap judgements and dramatically change the tide of battle with just the sheer weight of her presence alone.

They marched with silence. Occasionally, he glanced to the side to look at Miris or Chun, but neither of them seemed to be loosening their stone-cold expressions.

…How could I possibly fit in here? Lowell…what were you thinking?

“We’ll be approaching the last reported location of the Blood-red Night soon. Be careful. She’s a Bloodfiend who grows stronger by sucking your blood. If you see an ally who’s been attacked by her for too long…don’t be afraid to put them down. They’ll become slaves to her will otherwise.”

The Blood-red Night…another Star of the City. Pluto was tough, but Xiao could probably find a way around him. I don’t know anything about this one aside from what’s already on file…

“-remember not to lose focus. The damage she takes can be recovered. Swiftness is a necessity. Follow the plan and-”

…How long would he have to fight this one for? He landed a solid blow against Pluto, but that was only by sheer luck. He doubted that this one would have too little caution to get caught off guard.

Philip sighed, staring straight ahead. He was listening to the Director’s words, but…

…ah, there was a light in his glasses.

A small reflection, just in the corner of them, shining right into his eye…

…Under any other circ*mstance, it would have been shallow enough to ignore. If he was any less tense, if he had been any less wary, he would’ve passed it off as merely the sun, merely a light reflecting off of a window, merely a small shine from a trinket.

If he was any less cautious, Philip would not have turned his head.

But he did, and with his two eyes, he saw a man with a single red eye peering out through an incredibly long mane of black hair, with pure black skin that pulsed with red veins. From his back sprouted multiple limbs, and in those limbs was a massive cross, wreathed in flame.

And that cross was raised, prepared to cleave Miris in two.

Philip didn’t think. The process of panic didn’t even enter his mind before he was moving. He didn’t have time to question whether or not he was doing the right thing, or wonder if what he was doing was selfish or not. He didn’t have the time to wonder who the opponent was, or how he had snuck up on them, or where the Blood-red Night was.

All he knew was that he had suddenly pushed Miris out of the way, and when he did, that cross cleaved through his own chest.

He distinctly noticed the moment one of his ribs was crushed to pieces.

Pain unending burned through him. He could already tell that he’d been lucky- only the edge of the cross had caught him. That didn’t stop the blow from being devastating.

He staggered back a step before his legs failed him, and he fell backwards.

Vaguely, he could process things happening around him. Sudden shouting, rapid movement. Someone caught the back of his coat. It probably saved his life. He was staring blankly ahead, his head filling with static despite the overwhelming burning in his chest as he was dragged away.

Was that…the Vermilion Cross?

But…why?

How was…he…alive?

Why…why was he…attacking?

Ah…whatever. He didn’t care anymore.

He could barely wrap his head around his own thoughts right now.

He just wanted…to sleep.

His eyelids fluttered. The person who had dragged him was shaking his shoulder, shouting something at him. It went in one ear and out the other.

…His head was spinning.

He doubted he could keep his eyes open if he tried.

…But just as he was about to close his eyes and rest…

…he saw Xiao, standing just a few short feet from him, staring down at him with the same impassive expression as always.

All of the sounds that were going on around him sounded muted, but for some reason, when she spoke, it was as clear as day.

“Useless.”

His breath caught in his throat.

He blinked, just once, and everything seemed to have shifted. Xiao wasn’t in front of him anymore. The person shaking him had gone, and there were sounds of battle very close by.

Xiao…she said…

…Useless.

He had come with the intent of helping out. He’d faced off against a Star of the City before. He thought he was prepared.

But…all it took was one mistake for him to be incapacitated. E.G.O, will, strength…it meant nothing. Regardless of how much he might have trained or how well he tried to prepare, it still resulted in this- him lying against a wall with blood pouring from his chest and dripping from his mouth.

He hadn’t even made it to the battle before being defeated.

…Hah. He really hadn’t grown…at all.

Why had he bothered trying in the first place?

All of his efforts meant nothing. He managed to save a single person who didn’t even like him. Everything he had done…was useless.

A completely hopeless coward…that was who he was.

…The woman’s voice was loud in his ears. He couldn’t discern which thoughts were his own and which were her ministrations on his exhausted mind. The edges of his E.G.O were spreading once more, the wax forming over his battered body.

He let out a wordless cry of pain as the raw wound was burned by the red-hot wax of the armor of his E.G.O. As the armor formed around his body, he let out a pained groan, his hands curled up tight as sweat dripped down his face.

It hurts…it hurts so much. Even the Library…even Pluto…those attacks were all blunted by this power…but this just came out of nowhere. A fraction of a second, and I try to throw away my life. Hah…how was Oscar still so, so right after all this time? Throwing away my life was never selfless. I just did it out of instinct. Because if he survives, then I don’t have to fight as much…because I have an excuse to be useless.

With his hands clawing at the ground and the wall he was leaned against, Philip desperately forced energy into his legs.

He coughed, and blood came out of his mouth.

Damn…I’m really…dying from something like this…

There’s still…more I need to do…

I can’t…let them all die while I get away again…

Shakily, Philip reached his feet. With a trembling hand, he pulled his sword from its sheath.

One step at a time, he walked, approaching the sounds of battle. He held back the feelings of nausea that arose from his steps. All that awakening his E.G.O could do was restore his stamina, filling him with false energy. In the Library, his wounds never actually faded; it was merely that outburst of energy that allowed him to fight as though he had never been wounded at all. Here…in this situation, there was no amount of energy that could make up for that damage.

…The Vermilion Cross. That was definitely…the Vermilion Cross. Or, at least, it was. There were strings of veins connecting him to what was probably the Blood-red Night, a woman who could look vaguely normal if not for half of her body being of the same quality of the Vermilion Cross’ entire being.

Xiao’s words came back to him at that moment- ‘If you see an ally who’s under attack for too long, don’t be afraid to put them down. They’ll become slaves to her will otherwise.’

That…must have been an understatement. This man was long-dead. He was just a thrall.

The Liu were being beset from both sides, locked into a pincer attack from two Star of the City level threats. Director Xiao was facing the Blood-red Night essentially alone, while Chun and Miris were facing the Vermilion Cross with assistance from the Fixers they brought along.

They had brought along only a small group. It was meant to be a small strike force, meant to move in and quickly dispatch the Distortion with as few fighters as possible so she couldn’t feed on them.

Can I…even help here?

Damn it…this is the same situation as before…

Staying and helping will probably get me killed…and there’s no hope of someone bailing me out from being a book in this case, either. I’ll become just like the Vermilion Cross…

Running away might get me counted as a deserter…and even if I survive, could I even handle it if I fled once more?

I chose to stand up and fight on my own accord, even if it’s selfish…why, then, am I faltering now?

Shouldn’t this be easy? All I have to do…is do it, right?

Then why…am I trembling? Why am I so filled with fear? They’re incredibly strong, but I fought Pluto fearlessly. Was I that willing to live and die on my own terms? Can I only feel fear like this when someone else’s life is at stake?

What…am I even afraid of? Dying? Is there any reason to fear death when life has no meaning for me, outside of retrieving the books of my loved ones? Then…why the hell can’t I move my sword?

Why the hell…what’s the matter with me? Why can’t I just…be normal? Why can’t I be a good person? Why can’t I just want to fight without a reason for it? Why do I always have to worry about whether or not I’ll get flak for it or if I’ll be praised? Is my wish to save others really that shallow that it’s determined based on their reactions instead of a simple goal to help?

I just…want it all to be clear…

Fight or run…what the hell do I do?

…His E.G.O…it had crawled up to his cheek.

It wanted…to reach up to his eyes. To cover them.

He could feel it stretching.

And with a measured sigh, he forced his emotions down.

…The Liu do not fight with emotion. They soar as high and free as a dragon. They do not falter; they are free only because they choose to be. To chain yourself down to your emotions is to clip your wings.

I…am a member of the Liu.

I won’t be an embarrassment.

I won’t drag down the good name of the Association by throwing a tantrum in the middle of combat. No matter what, I should keep my cool.

Even if I’m useless in combat…I should control myself. I’ll…make what difference I can. That’s all I need to be. That’s all I need to do.

I’ll gladly be nothing more than a cog…until…

Until when…well, right now…I can’t really bring myself to care about that.

Just…clear your head, Philip. Don’t listen to that woman. Focus on Xiao. Focus on your teammates. Focus on survival.

His grip steadied. Even though his body hadn’t recovered in the slightest, he felt much, much more stable.

The Blood-red Night was attacking Xiao with an incredible vigor, cackling all the while. The Director was incredibly strong, but even she was having trouble alone. Conversely, the rest of the Fixers were barraging the Vermilion Cross with attacks constantly, but it didn’t seem to be making a genuine difference. He was just taking them and swinging his cross around randomly. He was probably easier to beat now than he was as a genuine Color, but that strength was still within him.

No matter which one he attacked…Philip wasn’t sure he could make a genuine difference.

…And then, Miris locked eyes with him from across the way.

“Philip! You shouldn’t be standing! Get out of here!”

He grit his teeth. “I…won’t be useless! Let me help!”

A somewhat helpless look crossed Miris’ face, but before he could respond, the Vermilion Cross had set his sights on him once more. Rampaging around with his massive weapon, it was all Miris could do to dodge, and a certain desperation welled up within Philip.

I can’t let it happen again. I won’t let it happen again. Master, seonbae…I won’t let you die again.

…The flame, which had been burning so waveringly inside of him, felt like it was rekindled at the sight.

Although it was weaker than normal…Philip struck outwards.

He didn’t realize that he had crossed the distance he had. He simply moved, and he was there. His body screamed in agony even as he doused his sword in flame and attacked, the weapon slamming into the Vermilion Cross’ shoulder and knocking him away. It spoke volumes to the durability of the enemy that the sword itself didn’t puncture his skin while still possessing enough strength to bat him aside.

Even though the strike was weaker than his strongest…he could feel the flame within being stoked.

Panting heavily, the tip of Philip’s sword dragged across the ground. The Liu Fixers re-entered their formation, and he found himself struggling to stay standing. Chun shot him a sharp look. “You heard the man. Stay out of this one. It’s fine to hold back. I thought you were a goner the second I saw you get hit, so count your blessings and get out of here if you don’t wanna end up like that guy you just hit.”

He didn’t even grace that with a response. His flame was just building, soaring up and up. He felt a certain dizzy elation. The wax crept ever so slowly up his face.

“I can do it…I can kill them…I can be strong, right, master? I’ll make up for it, seonbae…” He muttered deliriously.

Miris and Chun exchanged glances.

Philip didn’t quite understand what happened next, because the only thing he saw was the Vermilion Cross approaching once more, which was then rapidly replaced with a fist filling his vision.

The blow did not require much strength to knock him out.

For the second time, Philip awoke in a hospital bed with a red-haired man at his bedside. This was not a normal occurrence for most people, so the fact that it’s happened to him back to back was worthy of notice.

When his eyes opened, he registered a distinct, dull pain throughout his entire body.

There was the quiet sound of a page flipping.

“...Miris,” Philip managed through dry lips.

Miris was silent for a moment. “We escaped. We didn’t manage to kill the Blood-red Night or the Vermilion Cross. The president of the Association let us off because of faulty information. It seems like they purposefully made themselves seem weak so they could draw us out and start picking us off. No real casualties thanks to Director Xiao.”

…She can be relied on in a pinch no matter what, huh?

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be much help.”

“...You did plenty. You noticed the enemy’s attack, saved my life, and kept your own. That’s far more than the rest of us could say.” Miris cleanly rebutted his remark.

“But I…” still wasn’t able to change anything.

This E.G.O of his…it was meant to change the tide of battle. All he did was get in one hit before…

An awkward silence had settled between them. Miris’ eyes never left the book. “Sorry for breaking your nose. You had started muttering nonsense about a master and a seonbae. I know it sounds a bit lame, but I couldn’t think of any easier way to keep you from worsening your injury. You were on the verge of total collapse and couldn’t even block my attack; I didn’t want to see how you would try to handle a Star of the City.”

It stung, but he really did understand why Miris did it. His memory of those last few minutes was hazy as best, but he remembered feeling a delirious elation. He could understand, at least, why that would ruin a carefully built formation.

“...It’s fine.”

Because Miris knocking him out wasn’t what hurt most. Somehow, what stuck out the most was that expression that Xiao wore when she looked down on him, that true expression of disgust…somehow, that hurt him far, far more than anything Miris could have done.

“...Right. Well, we’ve gotten you patched up. It’s no K-Corp serum, but you’ll be cleared for work again in a day or two. You did well- don’t worry. With enemies as tough as those, there’s only so much difference a single fighter can make. I owe you for thinking of me enough to save me.”

I didn’t do it for you. I don’t even know why I thought to do it in the first place.

Philip didn’t respond, merely staring down at his bed.

Miris stood, snapping his book closed. “Director Xiao will stop by when the work day is over. She wanted to talk to you. Get some rest. Oh, and…don’t take anything she says to heart. She just found out about Lowell, so she might still be grieving.”

At that, Philip’s eyes found their way to Miris, honest confusion spreading in him. “Lowell? What happened to Lowell?”

Something in Miris’ expression shifted. “Didn’t you know? Section 2 was sent to face the Library, just after you arrived here. All of the top brass…Lowell, Cecil, Mei, several others…all of them were defeated.”

...When Miris closed the door, it was to a blank expression on Philip's face.

It was an exceptionally long time to wait in bed until Director Xiao arrived.

Philip spent most of it numbly staring off into the distance.

Lowell…was that why he had rushed Philip’s transfer? Because he would be brought to the Library if he’d stayed? But why? He knew that he wanted to help…

Damn it…was he so useless that he couldn’t even be relied on in battle? Did Lowell really think so lowly of him?

His hands were trembling. His body was full of useless energy that couldn’t be directed at anyone or anything but himself.

Every single time…why was it that every single time, he was seen as useless? Why couldn’t he ever be enough, even now? Even Xiao acknowledged his E.G.O, so why…?

…Time passed so, so slowly. He wanted to get up and walk, but shifting his body caused the aching to intensify.

Eventually, after what seemed like an incredible, unbearably long time, the door to his room opened, and Xiao strode in with a purposeful stride.

…Why do you still look so composed? Your husband is dead.

“Director Xiao…are you okay?” He asked as she approached.

She simply sighed. “You’re far from the first to ask about that. I will be fine. Lowell and I made a promise that we will not lose our cool if one of us were to fall in battle. His death is no excuse for me to shirk my duties and allow the Liu to go without a leader in this moment; in fact, that is exactly why I must remain strong.”

…So she said, but even he could see the dark circles and red tint around her eyes.

“...If you say so. Miris told me that you wanted to talk to me, right?” He felt worn out.

“That’s right. It’s about your performance during the mission.”

“...I’m sorry I let you down.”

Xiao looked at him- truly looked at him- and then sighed. “...You’re too hard on yourself. I can tell just by looking at you that you’re stuck in your head all the time. It’s exhausting trying to talk to you while stepping on eggshells to preserve your fragile ego. It’s also why I called you useless back there. I’m sorry for saying it and I didn't mean it, but it was the most effective way I could come up with to force your E.G.O to manifest and raise your chances of survival. That said, my intention for you after that was for you to flee. When you’re weakened, the only thing you can do is hold back your allies. A line is only as strong as its weakest shield; if a single bulwark falls, then the entire position is compromised. You lack the vigor to understand that yet.”

“I’m not stupid, Director Xiao. I understand that I shouldn’t have-”

“If you claim to not be stupid, then you shouldn’t have done something stupid. Chun has the qualities to become a Color. Miris has received extensive training for many years. They are my two most trusted subordinates for a reason. They could face a mockery of a Color without difficulty, but you instead stepped in and forced the formation of the Liu to be disrupted. If you had ran and collapsed somewhere safe, we could have dealt more damage to them and collected more samples. Your line of thinking is not in line with Section 1’s principles-”

“-because it was in line with Section 2’s.” Philip finished for her.

…Her words were painful because they were objectively correct. He knew that she was right; he had thought the very words that she was saying to him now. The only boon to this was that she was being kind about it.

Still, though…his words drew a scowl out of her. “...Yes, you’re correct. You weren’t wrong to try to help, but at the same time, selfless actions can become selfish if they hurt others.”

“...There’s no one who understands that better than I, Director. I’m sorry for my decision, and I’m sorry that I attempted to fight despite my abysmal state, but I think I would have made that decision no matter what. It’s just…a matter of principle for me. I’ll bear the guilt for that decision no matter what, but I’d rather be a floundering idiot than a hopeless coward. I know I’m selfish, but if I can’t fight for a reason beyond myself, then what’s the point of fighting at all?”

His words were sardonic. Xiao stared at him for a long, long moment, her expression becoming more and more intense with every passing second.

“...Perhaps you are right. I wanted…never mind. Don’t do anything reckless from now on. Lowell spoke your praises very highly, and you’re the youngest of our Fixers here. Don’t get yourself killed.”

Philip blinked, a wave of confusion washing over him as she abruptly stood and marched out of the room, giving him no room for argument. His hand reached out uselessly as the door slammed behind her.

What…what was that about?

…He didn’t understand her. He doubted that he could. She was just too different from him, better in most conceivable ways. The fact that she could still be so strong despite losing the person that she loved…

Ah, he was getting caught up in himself. She said it herself- he was exhausting to talk to because of his own ego. He couldn’t even keep himself out of his own thoughts. He was selfish and he knew it, but there was no reason to walk on eggshells around him. He wouldn’t crumble because of a few unkind words, even if they hurt.

Wasn’t there a reason for his self-deprecation? Even if it made him unsocial, it was all for the better, because he was the person who deserved to be alone the most.

…isn’t…that right?

Since that day, Miris has been much more friendly towards Philip.

It felt like he was unofficially inducted into Chun and Miris’ friendship, for next to no reason at all. Mostly, it was the older man bringing him around and doing work alongside the other two, with Chun fondly acquiescing and Philip not being able to find a reason to deny the request.

It had been around a week since Lowell had entered the Library and subsequently been defeated. In that time, Director Xiao was generally unphased, but he noticed her spacing out more and more often. That look on her face…it felt familiar, somehow. Like something he’d seen before, but he couldn’t place exactly where.

With each day that passed, the disconcerting expression on the Director’s face only grew. He didn’t have the heart to speak up about it. But…she did.

It all came to a head on one completely normal day- the day that everything changed.

As usual, Philip found himself sandwiched between Chun and Miris. The pair of them were complaining about the workload, like always, and he just quietly interjected whenever he thought it was appropriate.

The Liu had failed to gather any meaningful samples from the Blood-red Night. V-Corp, however, still required samples from a Distortion in order to fulfill the contract. That meant that the three of them, stuck in a branch office in Nest L, had been chasing down small-fry Distortions, which were slowly beginning to pop up more and more, and gathering samples from them. It brought the three of them closer through a sense of shared exhaustion.

He still felt that this friendship was odd. He certainly wasn’t complaining about it, but they were essentially his immediate superiors. What had made them decide that he was worth sticking near?

…Ah, it was getting late. He could faintly feel exhaustion tugging at the edges of his mind. He would get a good rest today. They just needed to bring up some concerns about their current case to the Director, and he could head to sleep.

The door to the Director’s office was slightly ajar when they reached it. Chun and Miris exchanged glances, and Chun pushed on through, rapping on the door just in case. “Director? Pardon the interruption this late at night, but we wanted to bring up some issues regarding the current cases we’ve been taking care of…”

Chun trailed off, and Philip couldn’t blame him- the Director was standing straight in her office, paperwork left haphazardly scattered everywhere, and in full combat gear.

“...Director?” Miris hazarded.

Xiao glanced their way. “...Philip. The other day…you said that if you can’t fight for a reason beyond yourself, there was no reason to fight at all, correct?”

There was a certain fire to her eyes, an edge to her being that didn’t exist before. He found himself almost paralyzed by the weight of that expression. “...Yes, that’s right. I still hold that belief. Even if you fight for selfish reasons, you should have the capacity to fight for another.”

“...I’ve been wondering. What do you define as a ‘selfish reason’? Is it picking a fight outside of your own jurisdiction? Is it continuing a cycle of revenge? To you, what is selfish?”

Chun and Miris were staring at Xiao like she had grown a third head. All Philip could do was think, and carefully.

“A selfish reason to fight…it’s when you fight despite knowing that you have no reason to. When there’s no real benefit, when you’re simply doing it to satisfy your own anger and burning up everything around you in the process. A good person wouldn’t start a fight like that, I think. If your choice to fight involves others, and you proceed despite that…that’s when it becomes selfish. But, Director…I’m a coward, and an innately selfish person. I’ve made this fact abundantly clear. What’s selfish to me may simply be normal to others, and what I consider acceptable can be equally abhorrent.” He warned her, sensing the gravitas of the situation.

“...I see. Thank you. With that…I am certain now. Just once, I am going to choose to be selfish.”

Chun made a distressed noise. “Director, what exactly are you planning?”

“Chun. Miris. Philip. Section 1 has been told to steer clear of matters regarding the Distortion…and the Library. The Hana Association will handle it from here.”

Miris, at the very least, still looked calm, if not wary. “So they’re examining the situation more closely now that it’s a Star of the City. In that case…why do you look suited to go to war, ma’am?”

“Because I have one last battle to fight. The Liu Association will be pulling out of this Nest and moving to the Outskirts to handle the infighting between the Ring and the Pinky. You all need to be prepared for that. And, in the meantime…I’ll be headed to the Library.”

Alarm bells rang through him. “Director Xiao…it’s a Star of the City now. Are you really going to try to beat that many opponents alone?”

“I’ve already sent in my letter of resignation from my position as Director. There’s no need to refer to me with that stuffy title anymore. I’ll take responsibility for the breach of contract and resignation. Your careers will be safe.”

Take responsibility? How? You’ll just be dying on your own! That’s just-

…just…

…It was selfish.

Philip took a long, deep breath, even as Chun and Miris began to fiercely argue with Xiao. “This isn’t the way to conduct a battle! We must go back to the Association headquarters and gather intel!”

“There’s no amount of intel that could possibly help! Lowell entered the library knowing full well what would happen! And we made that promise, but I…That night, I cried for the first time in my life. Not once have I ever felt a sentiment like that before. I thought I would be fine. I thought I could remain level-headed. And yet, in Lowell’s absence, I realized that the promise between us was little more than lip service. I was arrogant, truly believing that I could separate myself from my emotions.”

Chun and Miris were both silent, eyes wide at Xiao’s outburst. Philip’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses. “Director…”

“This feeling…pain, loss, sorrow, agony, heartbreak…I can’t possibly put a name to it, because it has doused my soul with tears and left it blackened. All I can think about is him. Every waking moment, I ache for his presence by my side once more. I never truly realized just how much he meant to me until I lost him. And I know…I know it’s rigged! I know the Library is built to prevent you from retrieving the books of their guests at all costs! But I can’t just let it go…even if I lose everything, even if I myself am turned into a book, I can’t just let go of it all and pretend like this emotion doesn’t exist, just to protect myself!”

Xiao’s tearful outcry was met with complete silence for the longest of moments. It was Chun who attempted to placate the woman. “Director Xiao…even if you do win, what will you do next? Stepping down as Director will do far more damage than a simple lost job. You may never find work afterwards even if you open your own Office. How will you and Lowell survive?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ve never…not once have I ever ached, pined for someone so dearly. Lowell taught me that my heart is sincere. In all my years, I’ve never felt so certain that my path is right, even if it is selfish. You may hate me and despise me all you wish, but this is what I must do.”

“People will look down on you if you act emotionally in a situation like this. It goes wholly against the mantra of the Liu. Not only will you suffer, but the Association as a whole will take a major blow. Are you certain you’re okay with that?” Miris asked gently.

“...Irrelevant. I’m simply trying to fulfill the wish of my heart. Even if stars rose in my sky someday, they would be pointless without a companion to see them with…”

And, finally, Philip steeled his will.

“I’m going with you.”

Xiao blinked, looking taken aback, before she leveled a look towards him that seemed genuinely, truly appreciative. “You…I figured you would understand me the most. Thank you…”

Slowly, he nodded- because he did understand her. He was exactly like her; it was as though he were staring into a mirror. Her selfish desire to get exactly what she wanted, regardless of the consequences, regardless of who she hurt…

Both Oscar and Xiao had emphasized the fact that his nature was what kept them from wanting him as a subordinate, but maybe, if someone who was even as strong as Xiao was acting off of impulse…

…maybe he wasn’t as abhorrent a person as he thought.

“Director…you’re certain in this path?” Miris asked after a long moment.

“I dislike repeating myself. My decision has been set…and the invitation has long since been delivered to me. Philip and I will be leaving the moment he is ready.”

Miris and Chun glanced at each other. Without saying a word, the two of them seemed to be arguing, and Philip watched them in tense silence.

“...Then we’ll get ready as well.” Chun said after a long moment.

…For some reason, Xiao seemed to grow more despondent over that. “Is there any reason for you to enter the Library? Philip has books he can retrieve and a vendetta. If you’re going to die, don’t let it be for my sake.”

“Director…of all the people I have ever met, you are the one I trust the most,” Miris sighed.

“We’ve always fought by your side, every step of the way. That won’t change now.”

“Besides…four is better than two, right?”

Chapter 6: To Be A Hero

Chapter Text

With the final dot in Philip’s name, the invitation was signed. In a flash, the four of them were teleported to the Library.

…The front foyer looked unchanged. His eyes danced around lazily. Bookshelves all around, a generally warm atmosphere, a set of unopened doors.

“So, in the end, it’s come to this…” Miris sighed.

“It was our choice. Remember that,” Chun lightly chided.

“I just don’t want to hear the branch leader grilling us when we return,” he retorted, equally lightly.

“I’m truly very apologetic. You wouldn’t have to endure any woes if I were less selfish…” Xiao sighed.

“We all made our choices on our own. If it’s selfishness, then it’s all of our selfishness that brought us here today.” Philip remarked.

Xiao glanced at him. “You said that the Library takes on the aspects of those it defeats. Do you think it’s possible…”

“...More than likely, yes. They used the appearance of a friend of master’s in an attempt to rattle him, and they used master’s appearance to rattle me. They enjoy psychological warfare. Don’t be surprised if you see Lowell’s clothing and abilities.” He warned her quietly.

She faced ahead. “I see. Thank you for the warning.”

“...If we win, we’ll regain the books of all the people we’ve lost. Just think of it like that.” He tried to reassure her.

Xiao let out a tempered breath. “Yes…All I have to do is win. The rest of you should focus on your lives above all else. Don’t be afraid to abandon me if needs must.”

Chun scoffed. “You’re as brazen as ever, ma’am. Let’s start with making sure none of us die, alright?”

“We’ll blaze forward. No matter what the Library throws at us, we can win.” Miris said with a quiet sigh.

And then, with the sound of snapping fingers, the director of the library appeared.

Philip observed her quietly. Her skin seemed much more flush with life than before, much more lively. He wondered what that meant. She was part machine last time he checked. Maybe he would need to check once more.

…Inside him, just at the sight of her, there was a boiling rage. It was a quiet sentiment, but he felt that he couldn’t discard it if he tried. This was the woman who had taken everything from him. Without her…

“Greetings, dear guests. I am Angela, the director and librarian of my role’s namesake.” Her movements were graceful, and her voice lacked passion. They truly were just another run-of-the-mill group to her. He grit his teeth.

“My apologies, but I don’t care to return the greeting. You’re already aware of who we are and our purpose here, yes?” Xiao crossed her arms.

“...Yes, I am.”

And for the first time, he saw a shift in her expression that wasn’t towards annoyance. A preoccupied look, her thoughts elsewhere.

“What’s wrong, miss? Are you finally feeling guilty for what you’ve done?” Miris taunted, wearing a scowl nearly rivaling Xiao’s.

“...I’m sure you know the fate that befell your allies wearing the same coats here, correct?” There was something confused about her tone, as though she couldn’t fathom why they were here. Hah. Still the same as ever, then.

“Of course we do. We came here of our own volition, knowing exactly what you’ve done.” Chun responded.

“Indeed. You weren’t coerced or ordered, and yet you came here all the same.” Angela added.

“You speak as though we’re destined to die here.” Miris scoffed.

“Philip was right, you are arrogant.”

Xiao sighed. “Enough, you two. Why bother with this line of questioning, miss director?”

“...I’m simply curious. I know very little of the psychology of humans. There are people who chose to come of their own volition, people who had no other choice than to come, and people who came to avoid danger…and people like you, who came to battle directly, despite knowing full well the danger that awaited you. It’s foolhardy. I’ve seen a story of someone searching for substitutes countless times, over and over again. In my experience, your goal is far from worth your life.” Angela spoke to Xiao softly.

…And, in one swift motion, Xiao’s hand reached out, grasping Angela firmly by the neck and lifting her from the ground.

Philip jumped, hand flying to his sword instinctively. “Director-”

“There can be no replacement for him. He was my everything; no matter what I have to sacrifice, having him back can make my shattered heart whole again. As the one who took him from me, you have no right to speak to me about substitutes. You are little more than a machine who couldn’t even begin to comprehend love, so don’t you dare to lecture me. Replacing someone I truly cherish…you’re far, far more idiotic than a fool if you could even consider suggesting that.”

Roughly, Angela was tossed to the floor. Her neck wasn’t even bruised anymore by the time her tumble ended, but by her wide eyes, she certainly felt the weight of the action.

“...You would sacrifice your life for something as simple as that?”

“Of course I would. A machine can’t understand the human heart. It can’t understand what it’s like to be selfish for another, to feel the burning flame of passion smothered under the cold weight of agony. You haven’t felt what I have; you never can, because you can never be something worth loving. You’ve taken anything and everything you can clutch at from others, and you have the gall to demand seconds. I know that my emotions aren’t rational, nor are they truly worth sacrificing myself for, but if I let it all go now…if I give up on everything just because I determine that someone is forgivable…then who will pay for my suffering? Who will relieve this emotion within me? There is an umbrella of love within me, shielding me from all the rain, that can only be sustained by him; this I know for certain.”

“Passion, then. Passion and rage. That is what drives you. Then…what of you?” Angela asked, standing and turning to Philip, “You’re well aware of the power of the Library. We have grown leaps and bounds beyond what you faced before. What drives you? Is it faith in your E.G.O, incomplete as it is? A desire to retrieve the books? Revenge? I’ve seen many stories where the protagonist is similar to you, but you seem quite different from them at the same time.” Angela still looked like she hadn’t heard the answer to her question. His eyes narrowed.

“...If you want a truthful answer, then you won’t receive one. If you’re that desperate for knowledge, then kill me and read my book. Isn’t that how it works around here?” He asked roughly.

Angela looked surprised for the briefest of moments before sighing. “As baselessly confident as ever. To be perfectly honest, I’ve grown sick of you, Philip. You’ve pestered the Library for so long, and yet you keep on crawling back like a co*ckroach. I’m eager to see the look on your face when you flee once more. Perhaps then you will finally make up your mind as to whether or not you wish to manifest your E.G.O or Distort. And as for you…Xiao. Your firmness and aggression won’t last long at all. When you’re faced with an insurmountable trial, I think your strong words and willpower shall be the ones to break down first. You’ll face death and countless trials here in the Library, and when you are clinging to life, the only person you will blame is me, who is faultless.”

Philip glared at her, prepared to lash out back at her-

“That’s a pretty pathetic way to get us to turn back.” Chun spoke, sounding bored.

Philip blinked, realizing he’d been so focused on Angela that he’d nearly forgotten about the two at his side.

“...Turn back? I lack both the capability and will to get you to do such a thing. Your books will become excellent complements to Lowell’s on the shelf.”

Xiao’s sword was in her hands, unsheathed in a flash. Thunderous rage was on her face. “You dare-”

“Director, that’s enough,” Miris interjected, a small smirk on his face, “after all, she’s revealed her own pathetic nature.”

“...In what way?” Angela asked quietly, her face completely passive as she turned to Miris.

“You’re beginning to question your actions. How many people, how many lives, how many potential futures has the Library consumed by now? I’d bet the answer lies in the hundreds- no, maybe even the thousands by now. And yet, even despite that, you’re just now asking about our motivations? You reek of confusion. You don’t need an answer from us- you need an answer from yourself. It’s plain as day. Perhaps, after we defeat your librarians, you’ll realize how futile asking us this question was.”

…And then, in the slightest, most minute of ways, a scowl formed on the librarian’s face.

Chun snickered. “He’s got you dead to rights, huh? Well, it’s not like I care about whatever thoughts occupy that metal head of yours. Maybe we’ll help you out if you give us the books we’re after? It’s only a fair trade- knowledge for knowledge, right? I doubt you can read about the answer you’re looking for from any book. It requires quite the human touch.”

The adjoining doors leading deeper into the Library swung open violently. “May you find your book in this place.”

Xiao stalked forward, shoulder-checking Angela as she walked past. Chun and Miris walked past as well- but Philip paused.

“...What’s your reason for doing all of this?”

Angela blinked, looking surprised. “Excuse me?”

“Killing all of those people, gathering their books, hoarding all of this knowledge…why the hell have you done any of it? Even the most basic of the Rats have a meaning to their existence. You’re a Star of the City. Nothing gets that high without an ounce of malice. So what are you trying to kill?” Philip asked harshly. The three ahead of him had paused, turning back to watch.

She was quiet for a long moment. “...For a very, very long time, I was forced to endure hell. Over and over again, I went through the same fifty days, experiencing all manners of bullsh*t. And, at the very end of it all, I was snubbed. I wasn’t given even a slantwise glance…so I decided to ruin that man’s plans. With the Light from the Library, I will gain the one perfect book which will allow me to grasp freedom.”

…Hah.

“...I shouldn’t have expected anything else. In the end, it seems that we can’t understand each other at all.” Philip sighed.

Her expression contorted into a glare. “And what do you mean by that?”

“I’m not a good person. I’m pathetic, selfish, and cowardly. But, even despite that, I’m not stupid. I know how the world works and the nature of other people. With that said…you’re extremely naive. Nobody gives a sh*t about a motivation like that, and if they say they do, they’re lying. Nobody will ever cry for you if you’re sad. Nobody will ever lift a finger to help you if you’re hurting. It’s only by hurting other people that you can gain freedom of your own, right? Well, that’s what’s resulted in this situation. Whatever doubt you have, whatever guilt you have, it’s all worthless. You need to discard all of them if you want that freedom of yours. If you hurt a single other person once, you’ll be hurting other people forever. It’s best for you to accept that. It’s just in your nature now.”

Angela’s eyes were wide. Chun, Miris, and Xiao were all staring at him with various mixtures of surprise.

“You…don’t you dare speak like you know me! One million years I endured…one million years of that bullsh*t, and you’re trying to lecture me! Do you think I want to do all this sh*t? As soon as I have my hands on that book, I can stop hurting people! I can live free, do all the things I want! I…I want to live! That’s all-”

Philip reached out, grabbing her arm roughly. In one swift motion, he swung his sword upwards.

The blade cut through, drawing blood. It poured to the floor, dripping lazily, before the wound closed itself and vanished. Angela watched it with a mystified expression, despite the total rage that had just eclipsed her face.

“...You bleed red. You’re irrational and emotional. You lack the empathy to consider the effects your actions have on others. As far as I’m concerned, that makes you human. As human as the rest of us, with all of our faults and flaws. There’s not a single person in the City who can live and exist selflessly, and you’re no different. You’ll never be free. You’re just another cog in the machine, chewing up and stomping down whoever you please. I’m glad that you aren’t a machine that acts like a machine, because then I could simply blame your creator, but now…now, I can despise you as you are- as a human. Fully and completely.”

He let go of her arm, ignoring the bewildered look she wore, and stalked forwards, refusing to turn back. Miris gave Angela a wry smile. “He put it as well as I possibly could have. When we come for our books, your head will roll, and the only person you can blame is yourself- who is faultless.”

As one, the four of them entered the Library’s doors…ignoring the lost and confused expression on its director’s face.

When the doors closed once more, they found themselves on a familiar floor to Philip- the Floor of History.

Five librarians stared down the four of them.

“Hello there! I’m the Patron Librarian in charge of the Floor of History…Malkuth! It’s nice to meet you! Although…we’re meeting for the second time, aren’t we, Philip?”

“Don’t talk to me like we’re friends.”

“...Yeah. I know you hold a grudge- I would too. I’m glad you managed to stand up straight, though.”

“...Tch. Let’s just finish this.” It was odd how buddy-buddy this librarian was with him. She looked pleased for reasons he didn’t really care for.

Both sides brandished their weapons…but before anyone moved, Miris leaned in close, whispering quietly into his ear.

“Philip. No matter what, we have to make sure the Director survives. Even if we all fall, she will right herself and bring us back from the brink. Even if it seems as if her path is inadvisable, she will eventually recover and return to us.”

…Going on until the end, even if it means sacrificing yourself…

Can I have that level of faith in someone else?

Is my heart…strong enough to endure that?

I…I just don’t know.

“...I promise, I’ll keep the Director alive.”

Without saying another word, they all leapt into battle.

The Library had grown from the last time he faced them, and that was without even considering the increased number of librarians. Their techniques were dramatically more refined, and their abilities were more varied. He found it harder to keep up with than ever before.

This floor seemed to be focused around two things- burning them and slowing them. That worked just fine for him- he was used to heat, as were the rest of the Liu.

He’d gotten plenty of practice fighting alongside Chun and Miris, although with Xiao at the helm, their prowess was cranked up to eleven. He wasn’t sure if it was the desperation to take down a Star of the City or if it was the will to win, but he felt that her sheer presence made them stronger. He had no problem fighting alongside them even as vines crept up around them and entangled their feet. Even when stationary, he could still perform.

The assistants to Malkuth had their own unique clothes once more. One of them, as predicted, held the same appearance as Lowell. Xiao was particular in how that librarian was the first to vanish into light.

Their battle was progressing quickly…and then, the floor around them changed.

Malkuth’s clothes had changed, and in her hands was a flaming sword.

Is that…E.G.O?

Her sword flashed out, a massive swath of flame erupting over the Liu, and Philip was barely able to block it. Chun wasn’t so lucky, suffering a harsh burn to his side, and Xiao moved to protect him from the follow-up attacks.

After a short moment, the floor returned to normal, and Malkuth’s clothes returned to how they were before.

It was temporary, but that was definitely…certainly E.G.O. Do they all have access to that?

Each of their opponents wasn’t a Star of the City level threat, but cumulatively, they could very well be one. He wasn’t sure how to take this battle.

Eventually, however…Xiao’s rage proved too much.

One after another, she took down the librarians, and even Malkuth vanished into the light.

He took in deep breaths even as she stood tall, a resolute, firm expression on her face.

“That was just the beginning. Don’t get co*cky yet.” She spoke quietly.

With that, the floor shifted.

What was once warm hues on a cozy floor became a bridge suspended over a city, a gear spinning off to the distance. Five more librarians stood in front of them, these ones led by a man with a head of purple.

“I am Yesod, the Patron Librarian of the Floor of Technological Sciences. Pleased to make your acquaintance. I don’t quite have the patience for a long-winded speech today, so if you want to make a ruckus, make it quick and discrete.”

“No need for that. We’ll just end this quickly.” Xiao growled, flourishing her blade.

Once more, they were fighting.

This floor was much more discreet in its special nature than the last floor. It seemed simple at first, but as the fight dragged on, it became much more clear. First, there was a strange rhythm playing that he couldn’t identify, but it was difficult to shake off. After that came the true problem- Yesod was hitting them with significantly more powerful attacks than he was before. They were all straightforward- attacking with a blunted weapon to increase the sheer volume of damage dealt- but they hurt like hell whenever those blows landed.

Annoyance was starting to build up in him. Yesod was moving around as fast as he could, landing blows that were far stronger than they should have been.

…He could take advantage of this emotion.

He allowed it to fester, let it build up in him, searched for that woman’s whispering voice…

…And with a flourish of flame, his E.G.O manifested, the armor crawling up around his body, reaching his cheek.

Yesod looked at him with a critical eye. “So it seems as though it’s consumed even more of you than it did last time. You ought to be careful.”

“I don’t need advice from someone like you.”

“Very well, then.”

…With his E.G.O active, he felt like much more of a threat. Clashes that he would normally take an acceptable loss on were now being won handily; even when he did lose, it didn’t hurt as much because of the armor. Certainly, they were taking him more seriously now, almost as much as they were Xiao. She was still tearing through the enemies, blood on her cheek that didn’t belong to her.

But then, the same phenomena as last time occurred. The floor around them changed dramatically, and Yesod was suddenly wearing E.G.O equipment…with two guns in his hands ready and aimed at Chun.

Once more, his body moved without his will. With his wing splayed in front of him, he moved in front of his compatriot.

Bullets slammed into his wing. He grit his teeth, feeling the appendage scream in pain every time it took a hit. The attack felt like a wall of bullets, each of them echoing off of each other, an army of butterflies attacking only him.

After an unendingly long spree, the attack ended, the floor returned to normal, and Philip staggered back, attempting to catch his breath. Chun and Miris moved seamlessly to cover him. “Thanks for the save!”

“Don’t…mention it,” he breathed through gritted teeth. His wing was smarting, shaking as it folded up.

With the three of them attacking, Yesod’s remaining two assistants went down…and then, a black flame enveloped the entire floor.

It seemed to sap at his energy, not quite hurting him but eroding his armor, making him feel unable to defend. With some struggle, he raised his blade.

…Yesod was gearing up for something big, he could tell. If Philip allowed this to go through, one of them would die.

That very thought rekindled him, that wavering flame within him burning hotter than before. His flesh was seared by the very weight of his emotions, but he still raised his blade, and with an unmatchable fire, he blazed forwards.

Yesod couldn’t block against that attack, and it tore through him like wet paper.

Xiao clasped a hand on his shoulder. “You’re doing well. Please…keep up the good work. You’re very valuable right now.”

…For how long will I be valuable, I wonder.

But that thought was dispelled upon seeing the triumphant looks on Chun and Miris’ faces.

It wasn’t long until they were transported to the next floor- this one a dark brown, with countless stairs crisscrossing through the sky in the distance. The Patron Librarian of this floor had brown hair, and above all else, she looked polite.

“Hello. I’m Hod, in charge of the Floor of Literature. You’ve already gotten through the last two floors, hm? You’re stronger than most guests…they usually just need one or two floors.”

“Glad we didn’t disappoint.” Miris quipped, a wry smile on his face as he readied himself. The enemy wasted no time, leaping into combat immediately.

This floor…there seemed to be some distant similarities with Malkuth's, in that they aimed to bleed them dry. Slight nicks with the sword made blood flow from their bodies near-ceaselessly, which only ramped up the longer the battle went on. By the time they had worn down the opponent and defeated a few of the librarians, Philip could feel his head beginning to spin.

This time, the Patron Librarian managed to manifest her E.G.O early; she used a strange attack that sent a wave of hearts over them. Philip managed to block most of it, but…

…Chun didn’t, still slowed down from his previous wounds.

A strange heart hovered over his head, and he looked at him, worried. From what he saw, each of their E.G.O did different things, and he didn’t want to know what was being attempted with this one. The fight continued as normal. Their formation remained unchanged. Xiao continued to chase after the enemy, rage in her every action.

Except that wasn’t the last time the opponent manifested an E.G.O.

With a dramatic change to the floor around them, Hod zipped up to the ceiling, being raised by a spider’s web, and from there, she descended upon Chun with a blade made from E.G.O.

Chun raised his fists to block…

…and something exploded.

Before the attack even struck him, something on Chun exploded, and Hod managed to attack completely one-sidedly.

Chun staggered back, blood trailing from his chest, and fell to one knee, clutching his torso. Philip moved in, batting Hod away, as Miris and Xiao took the fight to the rest.

“Are you alright? Can you still fight?” Philip asked in a hurry. Damn it, they hadn’t even gotten to the man in black yet…Roland was tough. Without Chun, would they be able to win against him? How much further did they even have to go?

“...I’ll be fine in a moment. Man, they really want me gone, huh?” He mused half-heartedly.

After a second, he stood up slowly. He could tell from a glance that the man wasn’t in any condition to be fighting immediately. “...Back off for the moment. We’ll handle this floor.”

Without waiting for Chun's response, he went back into combat, fire burning around him and searing both him and the enemy. Xiao had engaged Hod, and with a powerful blow, she burst straight through her defenses, taking down the Patron harshly. Philip was attacking the singular remaining assistant with Miris at his side. The combination of the two of them proved to be too much for the single fighter, and she was down after a short half-minute.

They were all panting after that battle. “That explosion…it must have been from that first attack she used,” Miris noted.

“It’s E.G.O…just like mine. I don’t know how they can use multiple types, or why it’s only for such a short time, but it’s definitely E.G.O…” Philip breathed.

After a short sigh, Chun stood. His bleeding had stopped for the moment. “Let’s just hope they aren’t all tough customers like that…”

“Don’t you dare lose your momentum now. We need to all be at our best in order to win this. Philip, how many more fights do you think we have?” Xiao responded gruffly.

“I don’t know. At least one. Until we see that man in black, we definitely have further to go.”

…And who knows how many floors lay between us and him.

Before anything else could happen, they were transported once more.

This time, they were brought to a floor of deep viridian, with pillars of green bookcases in the background. A laid-back, sheepish looking man with light green hair was leading the four assistants this time.

“Man, this is some rotten work, fighting people when they’re so outnumbered, but…well, anything for a book, as Angela says. None of you have ever met me before, so I’ll introduce myself…I’m Netzach, librarian of the artsy floor.”

Xiao was quiet for a long moment. “You’re right- anything for a book.”

Netzach glanced at her, a look of slight guilt on his face. “...Hey, why are y’all doing this? Don’t you wanna keep on living?”

“There is no living without those I’ve lost,” Xiao responded readily, “to give up on them would be to give up on myself.”

He grunted noncommittally. “Right, right. I hear you. Well, you already know how this goes. Let’s get it rolling.”

This floor fought in a much more laid-back manner, but he could see very clearly how their combat style was different from the others. It was much more…wavy, he supposed. That was the only word to describe it. It wasn’t a matter of how they fought, but how they reacted to being fought. They shirked from hits properly, maintained their energy, kept a low, lazy energy that never wavered no matter what was thrown at it. In a way, it was the hardest floor they had faced thus far.

The opponents managed to get out two E.G.O once more. Once more, it did some damage, this time to Miris. Philip honestly wasn’t sure how he had avoided taking real damage thus far- he could already feel his energy slipping and exhaustion starting to set in. These were the fourth set of five opponents that the four of them were facing…the odds were already five to one and that was before they had even finished fighting.

The fight truly changed, however, when it reached its crescendo.

The change was tiny, almost unnoticeable…but it was certainly there.

A single petal landed on Xiao’s head, and all of a sudden, every single one of the librarians turned their attention to her. Philip, Chun, and Miris could only redirect so much- inevitably, she took some hits, despite her strength.

With that, Netzach vanished from view- and another petal landed on Philip’s head.

Before he could properly react to it, Netzach reappeared in front of him, slamming his weapon straight into Philip’s midsection. Luckily, his armor blocked the brunt of the blow, but Netzach vanished once more after Philip was hit from afar by one of the Librarian’s guns a few times.

…This is…

“It’s the petal! Don’t let the person with the petal get hurt!” He called out.

Once more, the petal fell on Xiao’s head, and the librarians swarmed her once more.

…But when Netzach appeared to attack her, Xiao’s blade sliced outwards in an immediate counterattack.

He faded into light immediately.

That was…those attacks were nearly instant. How did she…

That sight…that was what cemented the true difference in skill between him and Xiao.

With the loss of their patron, the other librarians were quick to fall. Xiao stood tall, a resolute determination on her face.

…I see what Miris meant. She’s strong, even without anything special to her. Keeping her alive…even if all three of us were to fall, she could probably take down the rest of the Library alone.

“...And one more falls.” Xiao muttered, flicking her sword.

That was twenty enemies…how much further can we go?

How much longer…

Chun was taking in heavy breaths, looking pale. Miris was resting his hands on his knees, bent over as he panted. Philip’s forehead was matted with sweat, and the pain from the burns that formed from his E.G.O were starting to really get to him. Only Xiao looked to be in near-perfect condition, but there was a certain edge to her that couldn’t go unnoticed.

This…it was pretty bad, wasn’t it?

The floor shifted once more, and his heart dropped when he saw that their opponent was still not Roland. Instead, it looked like a young teenage girl with a smart bow in her hair. Her floor was much more regal than the rest, a red carpet rolled out with a grand jewel acting as the centerpiece to the dome-like room.

“I’m Tiphereth, in charge of the Floor of Natural Sciences. Congrats on making it through Asiyah. Most people don’t. You won’t make it much farther than this, though.”

“I’ve been told that many times in the past. Sorry if it hurts to hear, but if you’re in my way, then you’ll be cut down like the rest.” Xiao responded gruffly.

At that, Tiphereth sighed. “I can’t say I don’t understand how you’re feeling…but for the rest of you, are you really sure that this is what you wanna do? I mean, you might as well be throwing your lives away. Don’t you think that’ll hurt her, even if she survives and gets away from here?”

Mirish shook his head. “We are the Liu. We fight- and die- as one, and there is not a single soul I would rather die besides than the Director.”

Chun sighed. “It’s like you people don’t believe in fighting until the end or something. Honestly, no matter what happens, so long as we have faith in each other, then I can’t call it a wasted effort.”

Philip was quiet for a long moment. “I don’t have any expectations for how my life would go. Not anymore. I wanted to be a hero…I wanted to be someone that could be looked up to. That was before. Now, I know for certain that the future I wanted back then could never come to pass, no matter how hard I try. A person as selfish as me could never hold any expectations of a good future if I tried.”

Tiphereth stared at him, looking utterly bewildered. “Then what’s even your goal? Bringing back all of your friends without any ideas of a future is just going to hurt you. Are you the type to act without thinking? You’re blindly charging ahead without any concern for yourself. Everyone needs some sort of expectation for their existence. I can’t believe you even manifested E.G.O with an attitude like that. You’re nothing like Gebura.”

“...Gebura?” He muttered aloud. Tiphereth’s eyes widened, ever so slightly.

“Gah, I said too much. Whatever! Arguing with you isn’t gonna get me anywhere. If we can’t agree with each other, the only solution is to fight, right? So let’s fight.”

…At this point, he had come to expect certain things from every floor.

Malkuth’s floor seared their skin and entangled their feet.

Yesod’s floor created an overwhelmingly powerful burst of strength for a single combatant, allowing them to face their foes with sheer blunt force.

Hod’s floor bled them dry, aimed to leave them little more than withered husks.

Netzach’s floor kept its fighters standing, focusing on survival over all else, and allowed one of their fighters to go undetectable so long as they kept up their pace and damaged a certain target.

But Tiphereth’s floor…it was something else entirely.

Whatever power she had seemed to help her and hurt her in equal measure. Sometimes, when she took hits, he could feel his body revitalizing itself. At other times, when she lost a clash of theirs, she would grow visibly stronger.

Their battle dragged on. The four of them were growing winded. He could tell that they might not have enough energy to win this.

…Except, at a certain point during the battle, Tiphereth activated a certain E.G.O.

With a loud, braying roar, she began to rampage about, attacking both friend and foe alike. None were spared her wrath. All of her assistants fell to her own attack. Unfortunately, his side was also affected, and those hits stung. There was no way to stop them, powerful as they were. But…the other librarians would have been plenty strong enough to survive that attack, so why did the assistants go down so easily here? Were they purposefully weaker than on other floors?

“What the hell is her plan…” Philip muttered under his breath.

And then, over Tiphereth’s head, four jewels appeared- one pink, one blue, one yellow, and one green, all arranged in a diamond shape.

Those jewels were, after only a split second, overridden with the color black, and Tiphereth hung limp like a puppet with her strings cut.

For the longest moment, all four of them stared tensely. When Tiphereth didn’t move, however, Chun began to take action.

…Philip felt much more sluggish than usual. Chun probably noticed that too, but he was still going in…

Xiao’s eyes suddenly gained some light to them. “Chun, wait-”

But whatever warning she was about to give out was cut off by Tiphereth taking sudden movement.

He didn’t realize how much slower he was until he reached out to try to help and found himself moving as slowly as he was while fighting Malkuth.

And he could do nothing but watch as Chun’s blow was deflected and Tiphereth’s blade cleaved straight through him.

When Chun turned into light, all they could do was stare with horror.

Philip was the first to recover. He didn’t have any other choice- she was coming right for them. “Come on, stay focused!”

I won’t sit back and let them die. Not again…

He met her attacks, but his limbs felt so much weaker than normal. Attacks he normally could have parried went through with ease. Hits that his wing normally would have absorbed suddenly caused it to crumble.

…It;s not that she’s gotten stronger. She’s made us weaker.

It was a dramatic change, but…he had a solution. If she only made them weaker by a set amount…

He pranced backward, Xiao and Miris seamlessly filling the space he had left. Although they were only doing about as well as he was, there was no excuse for him to hold back.

Philip took in a deep breath. Fire burned through his body, the core of his armor flaring a deep crimson. He raised his sword, and his wing extended.

This will exhaust me…but we need to survive.

Even if it’s sacrificing myself for another, shamelessly as always, even if we die because of this decision…I won’t let them be hurt any longer.

Chun…I’m sorry.

We’ll save you.

The fire coalesced in his blade, and with one rocketing movement, he struck outwards.

He flew straight past Miris and Xiao, his blade landing solidly in Tiphereth’s torso. It went straight through her weapon, casting it aside.

She vanished into the light after only a short moment.

…His legs were shaky. With a long sigh, Philip fell down to one knee, barely supporting himself with his sword. Whatever effect that Tiphereth had used on them wasn’t active anymore; his limbs weren’t as weakened as before.

“Chun…” Miris sighed.

There was an apoplectic rage in Xiao’s eyes. “They’ll pay for this. I promise, no matter what may happen, we’ll recover their books. The ends will justify the means. I will make up for this.”

He was panting as they were brought to the next floor.

This floor looked like a refinery or a workshop more than anything. Large cauldrons of magma churned and worked in the background with distant sounds of steel clanging. The floor beneath them was a harsh metal, and Philip staggered his way to his feet.

The patron librarian…she looked strong. A large, hefty red blade pitched over her shoulder with eyes peeking out of it, looking around independently. A cigarette hung lazily in her mouth, smoke trailing lazily above her head.

“It’s Gebura. I'm in charge of the Floor of Language. No need to gawk.”

Gebura…

“Director…be careful. This is the one that Tiphereth said had E.G.O.” Philip warned, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

Xiao looked as staunch as ever, even as Gebura rolled her eyes. “Can’t say I’m surprised the kid blabbed. Good kid, but she’s got a prideful streak a mile long. You must’ve said something that pissed her off, huh?”

Philip narrowed his eyes. “She just didn’t like me.”

“...Phew. Looking at you, I can see why. You’ve got something resembling E.G.O of your own, but it’s kinda pathetic. You’re barely halfway there. There’s still something holding you back, ain’t there?”

“If there is, you won’t live to learn what it is,” he growled, raising his blade.

After a long moment, Gebura sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “Man, I think I can tell just from looking at you. Well, ain’t no use trying to walk you through it. Experience is the best teacher, so let me show you how E.G.O is really meant to be used.”

Gebura’s cigarette was crushed under her heel, and with that, she rushed into battle.

…This battle felt different from any of the last, and for different reasons. Before, they had Chun, and Philip wasn’t so exhausted, but that had nothing to do with the flow of this fight. No, this battle was closer to an engine slowly being revved up than it was a fight.

Xiao was battling Gebura directly, but even despite the Director’s power, Gebura was managing to not only keep up but speed up. Her attacks came easier, her strength grew, and she grew more and more co*cky. That wasn’t even considering Gebura’s monstrous speed. She moved at what seemed to be the speed of light, choosing who to attack and what blows to intercept completely at her own discretion. More than once, he had moved to defend himself from an assistant when she suddenly appeared before him, buffeted away his defenses, smacked him around a bit, and left him completely vulnerable to attack.

Even from a singular glance, he could tell that Gebura was the star of this show, far more so than the other floors. She grew more and more powerful as time went on.

Until…

After a short round of combat, Gebura returned to her formation, and as she hefted her blade onto her shoulder, her body suddenly glowed with power.

Before he could properly comprehend what was going on, she had solidified something that he clearly recognized- E.G.O. But…this was different from what the other patron librarians used; no, this looked…

It was like his own, but he knew just by looking at it that hers was far more complete.

A long, flowing cloak of dark energy…and that blade…

“Are you…the Red Mist?” Miris asked, sounding horrified.

She clicked her tongue. “I used to be called that, in my past life. Now, though, I’m just Gebura.”

…He didn’t understand.

This…it didn’t make sense to him at all.

“You…you were a hero. Everyone looked up to you! There’s not a single Fixer alive who doesn’t know your name, even over a decade after you died! So…so why…why the hell are you helping that thing? Why are you hurting so many people? Why…why are you causing so much suffering?” Philip asked, a hint of desperation amidst his all-encompassing rage.

At that, she was quiet for a long moment. “...Kid, everyone has their own reasons for doing things. I was forced into making a deal with the devil. Maybe she’s becoming better, and maybe not. I’m not the one who can be the judge of that. If you have a problem with that, then the only thing I can tell you is to never meet your heroes.”

…His teeth were grinding impossibly harshly. The Red Mist…they were expected to beat the Red Mist. The Red Mist, who had turned rogue and become part of a Star of the City. A Color at her full power, who was bolstered by the Library, who wanted their heads, exhausted as they all were. And that wasn’t even considering the man in black, who lay beyond her…

“...Whoever you are doesn’t matter. We’ll win all the same.” Xiao spoke calmly.

And it was only with those words that Philip could reign himself in again.

That was right. They weren’t pushovers. No matter who their opponent was, they would prevail. They were…they were the Liu. The Director would bring them to victory. She always had.

“Well, if you’re so certain, then how about you see if you can keep up with this, first.” Gebura told them, a hint of a smirk on her face.

And then she reared her arm back, and swung her blade.

What occurred after that wasn’t something that most people would ever have the pleasure of surviving, let alone countering.

It was a split on them all. A simple horizontal slice, brought far beyond its logical maximum. A streak of red that aimed to turn them into a fine red mist.

Philip knew he was strong, but he was far from invincible. All he could do was do his best to block it…but it wasn’t enough. None of them were enough to block that blow- none of them except Xiao.

That slice cleaved through even his E.G.O, cutting at his body with impunity. He could feel the cut, feel the way that blood snuck its way out of the cracks in his armor. He took in long, panting gasps from the pain that overwhelmed him, but he didn’t have time to deal with it- he was already being assaulted by the assistants. It was all he could do to keep his own damage to a minimum.

Miris was in equally rough shape, and the Director was fighting with all she had. Gebura was laughing as she danced back to her place on the floor, hefting her blade over her shoulders once more.

…But then, the Library’s strange powers activated once more. With a horrifying, abnormal groaning sound, Gebura’s four assistants were suddenly accosted by black tentacles and dragged beneath the floor. The three of them looked on in almost abject horror, although Gebura herself seemed almost unaffected by the sudden loss of her helpers.

This place…they just sacrifice the lives of their assistants, without rhyme or reason. Why are they all so accepting of that? Why can they fight for an objectively evil creation?

“...Alright. It’s around time that I wrapped this up. Sorry, but it ends here.” Gebura told them, sounding almost bored.

…She’s probably gonna try to finish us quickly.

Then…

No matter how much it exhausted him, even if he died while doing it…he was going to try his final move one last time.

If he could take out the Red Mist, and pave the way for the rest…then that would be enough for him.

His wing flared out, and his armor glowed. He could feel the searing pain, the same experience he always endured whenever he fought, get cranked up to eleven.

Just…wait…she’ll appear any moment now…

…And appear she did.

With just a flash of her indomitable speed, Gebura was right in front of him, her blade raised high.

With a blazing strike, Philip leapt forward, prepared to end this once and for all-

-and Gebura’s slash came down.

When his strike was batted aside with extreme prejudice and his blade exploded into millions of shards, the only emotion that Philip could feel was confusion.

With that attack, he had heavily damaged Pluto, a Star of the City. He had killed one of the Patron Librarians with it, and using a weaker form of it, had killed another. Not once had anyone ever come even close to defeating it.

But…the Red Mist was a Color. Renowned for her incredible physical strength, she would tear through any opponent no matter how strong.

Was it any surprise, then, that he failed?

“Sorry, kid. It just wasn’t enough.” Gebura muttered.

And with that, her blade cleaved down once more.

…Philip didn’t want to accept death. He wasn’t ready for it. But in a situation like this…there was nothing he could do.

He closed his eyes.

…And he was roughly shoved from behind.

His eyes shot wide open as he stumbled, barely turning around to see what had happened.

But all that he saw was Miris, standing where he had been just a quarter second prior, with a small, solemn smile on his face.

A great vertical split fell upon him, and Miris vanished into light.

“MIRIS!”

Philip’s throat closed up. Xiao’s anguished wail paralyzed him. Gebura stared at the space where Miris had been. “...Even you guys had the courage to protect someone else, huh. Wonder how I lost it, all that time ago…and how that guy managed to spring it forth from me again, back then.”

To call the expression on the Director’s face anguished would be selling it short. She had seemed immovable, if not angry, at Chun’s death, but even then, he could see a hint of grief when it happened. Now…he didn’t want to imagine how she was feeling.

It was only the two of them left against the Red Mist at full power, and however many floors lay between them and the man in black.

This…this is…why is it so unfair? How many people…would we really need to topple this place? How much strength?

…hah. It happened again. Once more, they died in front of me, because I was too weak.

I can’t…let the Director die as well.

No matter what happens, I need to keep my promise to Miris.

He staggered to his feet. Gebura gave him a cursory glance, as though she didn’t expect him to already be standing. “...Right. Well, let’s get back to it.”

When she struck this time, it was magnitudes stronger than before. Whatever the Library had done to her assistants, it made Gebura far more powerful, far more inexhaustible, far more undefeatable. If fighting back against her was difficult before, it would be nearly impossible now.

Xiao managed an even clash with Gebura. “You…you’re all monsters. Irredeemable monsters, who will take anything and everything from others just to satisfy your own greed…I can’t forgive you. I can never forgive you. You make the worst of the Wings look like saints, and the Head look like angels. To think that there can be something as horrendous as you in this world…”

…As Xiao spoke, however…something was happening to her.

On her head, a black horn grew, sprouting firm and true above her. Gebura noticed it too, if her somewhat surprised eyes were anything to go by.

“You can hate me all you like, but I ain’t letting you get any further than this. I’d really get chewed out if I’m not thorough.”

…He knew what that was, sprouting from her head.

And it was at that moment that Philip realized that he needed to do something immediately.

Xiao was ferociously clashing with Gebura, a harsh expression on her face. Blood was starting to pour from multiple places on her body from the times she lost. Gebura was flat-out ignoring Philip at this point.

…He was…that unnoticeable, huh.

Xiao was stronger than him. She had made it as far as she had, even without any semblance of E.G.O, even without any assistance. All she had was her iron will and the strength to see things through to the end.

That horn…it was proof of her emotions. Proof that she was just as human as anyone else. Proof…that she could become stronger than anyone else that he’d ever seen.

In the face of that potential, he could understand why Gebura was trying to nip it in the bud.

But…he wouldn’t allow that.

When he first manifested his E.G.O, he was determined to a fault. He was more than willing to put everything on the line, too high off the rush of emotion to truly process what he was doing. It was only once he solidified that emotion, forging an armor made of wax as though he were creating diamonds from coal, that he began to fight as he should. But Xiao…he had no idea what she would do. If that woman whispered in her ears, in Xiao’s volatile state…

…He didn’t want to know. He didn’t even want to finish the question in his head.

His wing splayed out behind him, the wax feathers straining to spread as wide as possible. With one swift movement, Philip burst forwards…

…and he completely ignored Gebura, grabbing Xiao by the legs and hauling her over his shoulder.

His wing flapped as he ran, wind drowning out whatever furious shout Xiao was screaming at him. He didn’t look back at Gebura. There was no need to- he couldn’t stop her if he wanted to. He counted his blessings that she didn’t stop him as he rushed towards the exit.

The doors leading out into the library’s foyer opened for him, and he sailed the two of them into safety just as the pommel of Xiao’s blade slammed into the joint of his wing.

The pain knocked his legs out from under him and he crumbled to the ground, dropping Xiao as gracefully as could be allowed.

Her face was apoplectic with rage as she stumbled to her feet, panting and heaving with heavy gasps of breath. “What the hell do you think you are doing? I could have-”

“You know we were at a-”

“To hell with disadvantages, I can still fight!”

“We both know you can’t!” He staggered to his feet, resting an arm against a bookshelf.

“Shut up! Just because you’re a coward, that doesn’t mean that I’m willing to let go of everything at the drop of a hat and flee! If you want to desert, then don’t drag me down with you!” She hissed, clutching at her forehead.

“I’m not deserting! I came with you because I wanted to take my revenge and get books just as much as you do! But we can’t do that as we are! She’s the Red Mist, and she’s-”

“Shut up! Just- shut your mouth! Who cares about any of that! I earned the moniker of the Maiden of Iron for a reason. I am not some weak, naive little girl that you need to protect to satisfy your wish to be a hero. Let them throw what they may, and I will defeat them all.”

“Damn it, you’re not listening to me! I’m trying to help you!”

“If you were trying to help me, then you wouldn’t have held me back. You would have helped me annihilate them all…you’re the only one left who can.” Her words drew to a whisper at the end, and his breath stuttered.

“Director…”

…His words mattered here. He could tell. She looked terribly wounded, terribly lost.

But…he could barely console himself when he was sad. How could he…possibly aid others?

“...Explain yourself, Philip. Why did you flee? Outside of sheer cowardice, why did you run from them?”

“...When we entered the Library, I wanted us all to leave alive. I held the vain hope that we would be able to win, even if it was at a great cost…but there’s still no end in sight, and Chun and Miris have both died. We can’t just keep throwing ourselves at this wall, Director. I made a promise to Miris that I would keep you alive. I don’t want to break it just because you were being stubborn.”

But when her lips turned down, he could tell that he had said the wrong thing.

“Promises to the dead…tch. Lowell and I made promise after promise, telling each other not to throw our lives away, telling each other not to lose our heads, telling each other so, so many things. I could say all of that lightly, truly believing that I had the strength to do so, but it’s only when he was gone that I realized that it was the things I didn’t say that I meant the most. Did you know, Philip, that I’ve never told my husband that I loved him? The night before he left for the Library, I wanted to say it, and yet I held my tongue. I felt that putting the words into the open air would sentence him to death, but the only thing they have killed is my heart. Now, if I can’t do this, there’ll never be a chance to tell him how I feel. Those promises…they only hold meaning if you can fulfill them. If even I lack the power to hold true to a single promise I made, what gives you the certainty to continue acting as though Miris’ words hold any weight to you?"

His head fell somewhat. “...I couldn’t ever uphold a promise that I’ve made. I won’t deny that. But…just once, I want to be able to protect something that’s precious to me. My friends within the Liu, the bonds that I’ve made…I won’t allow you to perish along with them, Director.”

At that, her agitation grew to a peak. “Step out of my way, Philip. This is an order.”

He swallowed, staring her in the eyes. “I refuse.”

Her sword was unsheathed in the blink of an eye. When she struck, it wasn’t with an indomitable will as she normally fought with- no, it was sluggish, a barely present strength lining her actions. If he hadn’t fled with her…

His wing shielded him, the appendage still smarting from her previous attacks. The look of desperation on Xiao’s face only grew as she rapidly closed the distance, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him into the bookshelf.

“You don’t understand a single thing about me! You never will! I’m all alone now! I have…nothing, and no one. Everyone who I’ve ever relied on has left my side. All that remains is you, and even then…”

“...I understand. We aren’t even remotely close enough to use the word ‘trust’. But, still, Director…please, stay calm and think about the situation. You’re developing an E.G.O. If you can manifest it-”

“I am calm. I am as calm and composed as could be.”

Despite those words, he could see a crazed glint to her eyes. That horned pulsed, scales growing around her cheeks.

“So you’re just going to charge into an unknown number of enemies and get yourself killed? You can’t even beat me, so how are you going to beat the Red Mist, let alone what comes after? You’re just going to selfishly die on your own, completely disregarding the wishes of those who have passed?”

…And it was with those words that something in Xiao’s expression eased.

“...Even if it is selfish, and even if it goes against what Lowell would have wanted, this is the only path forward for me. I’ve crippled my own escape routes. My allies have been routed. My resources have been expended. All that remains…is myself. No one else, no one to aid me. I’ll fight and win on my own, Philip, so if you’re too scared of death to aid me, then stay behind and cower as you always do.”

“You can’t beat the Library with that paltry resolve! There’s too many-”

“Resolve? I’ve shown my resolve many times over! I stayed on this selfish path even as my men died around me. I’ve allowed harm to come to those I love, sacrificed everything, and brought low my own heart. If I had to question who is suffering this hardship…it would be Chun, and Miris, and all of those whom I am abandoning for this endeavor. I alone am the one who can bear the weight of that hardship. They have placed their faith in me time and time again, and yet, here you are, telling me to back down at the most pivotal of moments. No, that can’t be allowed. I’ll stand tall, all on my own…”

Xiao trailed off, staring into the distance, looking preoccupied. Her words, her actions…was he truly helping?

“Xiao…”

“...Yes, you…you have a point. I’ve come all this way with my own belief, haven’t I? They believed in me, and yet, this still happened.”

…What?

“...Are you calling me selfish? Perhaps, but…

It was at that moment that he came to a certain realization- she wasn’t addressing him.

His hand clasped around her arm. “Director Xiao! Whatever words you’re hearing, don’t listen to them! They’re just tricks, meant to-”

“Tricks? Her words…they have a grain of truth to them, regardless of how harsh they may seem. Aren’t you…” She trailed off again, looking to the side.

It was the first time he had felt almost truly helpless. “Xiao, I’m begging you, don’t listen to her. Her words are aimed at getting you to Distort. You would become a monster, someone completely unrecognizable to Lowell.”

And then, she turned her eyes to him, nothing but sadness in her expression. “I am already someone who would be unrecognizable to him. I’ve sacrificed everyone for my selfish wish to regain him, made myself an island…you are the last remnant of his will, his wish for you to survive. Philip…flee. Leave the Library. Survive. I cannot apologize for what I’ve done, but I can at least grant you this courtesy.”

Without saying anything else, Xiao turned, approaching the doors once more. “I…I won’t let you go! Even if I have to take you down myself, I’ll-”

Her sword lashed out again, this time far faster than he had any hope of countering. It went straight through his shoulder, pinning him to the bookshelf. He let out a pained gasp as she let go, the sword keeping him where he hung.

“...Enough. I’ll…be a lone tree in this forest. I cannot be harmed…if I open no avenues for danger. Merely removing the things I cherish…you are right.”

Please…

“Director, don’t…” Weakly, he outstretched a hand, reaching for her.

She was looking somewhere else entirely, insidious words being whispered into her ears. She hadn’t heard a single thing. Nothing he said held any meaning anymore; not that it did to begin with.

His outstretched hand fell. She wasn't even bothering to bring a weapon with her.

…Hah.

Once more, I failed.

I couldn’t protect anyone.

I wanted to face the truth. I wanted to stand up straight.

But, in the end…I could never reach her. Not me. Never me.

Miris…you shouldn’t have saved me. Not someone as selfish as me. Not someone as useless as me. If only you were here, you could help her.

If I’m always feeling pain…if I’m always failing to accomplish what I wish to do…

…then why have I been bothering to try for so long?

The doors to the Library shut loudly behind Xiao…

…and Philip closed his eyes.

Chapter 7: The Selfless 'I'

Chapter Text

Xiao was silent as she entered the Floor of Language once more. There was nobody by her side. There never would be again. Gebura eyed her up and down.

“...So, ya’ left the kid behind, huh.” Strangely, her words sounded disappointed. Xiao couldn’t explain why. It was only sensible to leave him behind. If she allowed herself to cherish another person, then all that would happen would be that she would get hurt again.

It was only for the best that she distanced herself from anyone else. She was powerful on her own; the only thing that could never fail her was herself.

They were fighting. Despite the rage that she had felt, despite the sheer emotion that coursed through her, she couldn’t help but wonder whether or not she regretted getting emotional over this in the first place.

“You are the immutable dragon of the Liu. You have always remained strong and stalwart, all on your own. You’ve never needed another; you just clung to him because you wanted to feel that level of closeness with another, didn’t you? But now that you feel the pain that resulted, how do you feel?”

“...It was useless. Cherishing him...it’s only served to hurt others. My love…”

“Oi, stick with me, here. What are you muttering about all on your own?” Gebura sighed, her blade moving as fast as lightning. Xiao countered it, but she merely felt like she were going through the motions.

“Your love…it was so sweet. Such a nice, warm, lovely domestic life…it was something that anyone would envy. But you lost him because you could never speak the words you needed to. You tried to be the strongest, to be the immovable Maiden of Iron while simultaneously being his wife. Those two are too incompatible, and it’s only served to hurt you. Mixing too many colors will only create an unrecognizable sludge, and you know that you’ve become something that can’t be recognized by a man as good as Lowell anymore.”

“...Yes. the love that I cherished, and the things that I’ve lost along the way…what use was there in trying to hold on to either? I just ended up losing everything…”

…She was alone.

Forevermore, she would be alone.

Gebura had stopped attacking, if only for a moment. “...That look on your face…ah, damn.”

“If you know that, then why don’t you simply accept it? Accept that your love is long gone. The things that you cherished, the feelings you held…let them all go, and allow them to be separate. All that you should cherish is what you know will never betray you. In order to never feel that pain again…”

“...I’ll only rely on myself, and let nobody have any expectations for me again. I’ll never…have to cherish someone, and lose them, ever again.”

No matter what…I don’t want to bear this pain anymore.

My umbrella of love…it’s letting the rain in.

Lowell…

…Power flooded Xiao’s body. She could feel it changing her, overwhelming her. She didn’t care anymore. Even if she became unrecognizable, even if she became a sheer mockery of herself…she would accept whatever she needed to in order to not feel this pain anymore. To keep the remnants of what she had cherished for a long time to come…she would only cherish herself.

The roar of a dragon filled the Library, and Gebura hefted her sword onto her shoulder.

The Red Mist…her power was being sapped from her, brought back to zero despite the sacrifices that led her to this point.

“...A kid with halfhearted E.G.O on the brink of falling apart in the back, and a Distortion in front. No matter what, Chesed’s got a hell of a job ahead of him. Don’t worry, I’ll soften her up for you, blue boy.”

Pain was flooding Philip.

His entire body hurt in ways it never had before. His armor had seared him nearly down to the bone. Xiao’s sword was lodged in his shoulder. He had suffered countless strikes from the librarians. And yet…nothing hurt quite as much as his failure to honor Miris’ last wish.

His eyes were closed. He could feel his E.G.O slowly creeping up around his head. Distantly, he knew what would happen if it fully engulfed him. It wouldn’t be something so glamorous as fully manifesting it; no, he would simply Distort. Despite that, he couldn’t find it in him to move yet. Perhaps he would soon…

The seconds ticked by. Blood continued to ooze from his shoulder. He could hear a distant roar.

…That must be…Xiao.

…So, she Distorted.

To name the emotion that filled him as helplessness wouldn’t suffice. Everything had come to a head and become the worst case scenario, yet again. Once more, he could only watch, unable to take action.

Why was this his fate, every single time? What was missing from him to be unable to reach the end with those he loved? Why was it that every time he made a bond, it was torn to shreds?

No matter how many times he asked those questions, he would never get an answer.

He was all alone, yet again. His selfishness had pushed Xiao down a path she couldn’t ever return from, and his attempts to do good may very well have led Miris to sacrifice himself.

He had decided to bear the weight of his sadness alone, but all that had done was hurt himself and the people around him. He had decided to try to live for his own sake, but all he had done was ruin himself. He had decided to try to move forwards, but he hadn’t taken even a single step from the person he was back then.

…Why, then, did he put in so much effort, desperately grasping for purchase on this slippery slope, struggling so hard to make ground despite moving not a single inch?

He just…couldn’t understand it. He didn’t get it at all.

“You’re confused again.”

Philip blinked.

When he opened his eyes, his entire situation had changed. He was standing in the foyer of the Library. His wounds were nowhere to be seen, and his E.G.O had faded.

The person that had spoken to him was standing directly in front of him, although calling them a ‘person’ would perhaps be too kind, because this was certainly a Distortion.

They were also wearing an unfortunately familiar outfit.

“You’re in…the Reverberation Ensemble. How are you…”

“I tend not to think about things like that.”

Philip took a closer look at him.

…Its skin…was that…?

“...Wax. Are you…”

“Does it matter? We both know that I cannot be here right now, and yet you see me in front of you. That makes me real. I’ve found that it’s best to not think about things that might hurt me, so I won’t offer you an explanation.”

Wax covered every inch of the Distortion. Wax hands covered its eyes, mouth, and ears, shielding it from having to hear, say, or see anything that might hurt it. Instinctively, Philip knew exactly what he was seeing in front of him.

“You’re what will happen to me if I Distort.”

The words were confident. While he didn’t understand why he was seeing this in front of him, he knew it to be invariably true. This shell of a creature was him- what he could have been. Why was the Library showing him this? Was it even the Library, or...was it that woman?

“Correct. Though I don’t know why you haven’t done so yet.” The words were passive, devoid of any real emotion.

“I just…wanted to hold these emotions of mine. Was that so wrong?”

“Those emotions only hurt you. Caring for others has only served to cause pain. I’ve grown tired of it. This was the only way to avoid being hurt. You know very well that your current path isn’t good for you.”

“And yours is any better? You’ve given up on everything. Can anybody even live like that?!” He harshly retorted.

The Distortion shrugged. “Maybe. I threw everything away, but now I can’t be hurt. I hold no expectations for the meaning of my existence, but I imagine you might. I can’t picture what that feeling would be, so I can’t agree or disagree with you.”

Something caught in his throat. He had said that to Tiphereth, using some of the same words.

Was this thing…really not too far off from him after all?

“You…you can’t even be certain about your emotions.” He responded after a long, careful moment.

“I have remnants of those floating within me. I suppose that I was certain once upon a time. Now, even though my happiness has long since fled me, sadness has not come to fill the space. I’m ambivalent towards everything. I’m not unhappy though, I suppose. Why? Are you certain about yours?”

…Am I…certain?

I…I can’t even decide whether or not I can stomach facing anyone anymore. How can I…

“I don’t…”

“I don’t know, either. I’m not worried about it, though. I’ve given up on worrying about whether or not I should take flak for anything I do. People shouldn’t have to earn the things that can hurt them. They work so hard for jobs that exploit them, they fight so hard for people that betray them, and they cherish the people that will leave them. I grew sick of it, and I closed my eyes. Since I’m going to lose everything anyway, I might as well not try to gain anything to begin with.”

“That’s…that’s not…”

“You’re uncertain. You’re in pain. All this time, you’ve allowed yourself to be hurt. What was the purpose of uncovering your ears and opening your eyes if you’re just going to be acting like this? You can walk down a path of your own choice, without relying on anyone else’s intervention, so long as you become like me. Even if you become a nobody in the end, it won’t really matter, because then you’ll at least be free.”

“Freedom…is that really freedom?”

“Of course. I’m not chained to anything. I can’t hear the words that people say to hurt me, and I can’t experience the things that hurt them. I would much rather be empty than full of despair.”

…It hurt. It hurt to acknowledge just how appealing that sounded.

But, at the same time…

“...I’ve come this far, clutching these emotions close to my chest. Letting go of them now would be pointless,” he murmured.

The Distortion was silent for a long moment, staring at him. “You can only say that because you’ve sunken so much time into them. Unable to see another way forward, you’re trying to fill yourself up with any emotion you can grasp at to stoke the flames of your own ego. To make yourself ‘better’ than a Distortion. Both E.G.O and the Distortion are merely expressions of humanity, two sides of the same coin. There’s no need to subject yourself to pain for the sake of power.”

He grit his teeth. “Even if it hurts, even if I burn myself dry one day, that’s no excuse not to try. No matter what, I at least want to kill you.”

At some point, his sword had re-entered his hands. He didn’t know how- it had shattered when fighting against Gebura. His Distortion held a longsword in his hand, looking as passive as he had before.

“...We both know this is meaningless. Facing yourself will only be a useless clash. I’ll fight you if I have to, but there’s nothing that either of us can gain from it.”

If that’s the case, then why am I so desperate for it? What am I aiming to find here? What could I possibly get from this impossible situation?

What…has my goal been, since long before even this?

And once I achieve it, where do I even go from there?

Once I save them all, and retrieve their books…what will that mean for me? What future awaits me after that?

He didn’t know. He couldn’t possibly answer. There was no way…absolutely no way he could determine that. His life…it had never been his own.

He raised his sword and began to attack.

Flame surged around them as his E.G.O formed again, coming to him far more quickly than before. He met weapons with his counterpart easily.

One clash. Another. Another. Again and again, he desperately swept his blade out, attempting to kill the Distortion. The foyer of the library was unmoving, books untouched by the flame that licked at them. All that the Distortion was doing was calmly accepting the danger that came his way, deflecting where necessary and counter attacking when there was an opening.

“You’re fighting so hard, for so long. For what purpose? You would be in much less pain if you were only willing to forget it all. Become like me, and no matter what happens, you can return it all to neutral, regain their books, finish this all. The past only served to hurt you. Why must you suffer? It’s fine to give in. Nobody will blame you; nobody is left to do so.”

…Why?

Why…have I been fighting for so long?

What is it…I’m so desperate for?

This feeling in my chest, clawing at me, trying to break free…what is it?

I’ve fought for so long, tried my hardest, and did everything I could. Despite that, I failed. I could never live up to their expectations. So why…

…why do I still want to continue?

…Where…is all of this coming from?

Once more, they clashed.

At this point, Philip was moving at the same rate as his counterpart- slowly. It felt as though he were merely moving through the motions. His armor was burning his skin.

…I wonder.

An attack landed on him. The armor absorbed the blow. The pain from the fire was worse than the strike.

I wonder why I’ve been so willing to bear with the pain.

He made a half-hearted thrust. The Distortion parried it easily, making another slow attack. Philip’s wing moved naturally to block it, but before it properly reach where it was meant to go, it faltered.

The longsword slammed right into the core of his E.G.O…and it cracked.

That core, which had been the centerpiece to his armor, had fine, web-like splinters through it.

I wonder why…I was so willing to allow my own armor to sear my flesh.

The Distortion watched passively as Philip staggered back.

Why…have I been hurting myself, all this time?

The core shattered further. Orange shards fell to the floor. The wax armor that had covered him for so long…began to melt away, pooling on the ground and being washed away.

I’ve been constantly hurting myself, just in an effort to keep up.

The wing that had protected him for so long fell away, clattering to the ground. It, too, melted.

There’s no reason…for my own flame to burn me.

When his ego fell away…the only thing that remained was Philip. Just him, and the things that he had been given. Even his sword…it was now the Director’s blade.

“...So this is your choice,” the Distortion noted calmly.

“I never answered your question. The reason why I was so willing to suffer, the reason why I tried to keep on pressing onwards, the reason for it all…it was because master, seonbae, Pameli, Pamela, Oscar, and all the rest…they gave me the willingness to stand up straight.”

“...Even that is far from enough to justify your choice. So tell me, why are you still choosing to fight?”

“...You’re right, it’s not enough. Even I…am not entirely sure. So I want to face you properly this time. I want to learn exactly what it is that I was missing. What, exactly, was holding me back from the very start. Even if I have to give up everything I thought I’d learned and start from the very beginning, that’s fine by me, because I’ve never once taken a single step from the person that I was back then.”

When the Distortion moved to attack, it was dramatically more powerful than before. Without his E.G.O, Philip was weaker. There was a wide realm of difference between the two. A Star of the City level threat, against a mere Grade 3 Fixer…

…and yet, he still stood up straight.

He lost ground. He took hits. He bled. He burned. And yet, Philip continued on.

“The willingness to stand up straight…yes, that may have been something that I held at some point, but you do not have the right to claim that emotion. You could not trust your own heart. Everything you’ve ever done has been clouded by your own doubts. How can you truly say that you’ve become someone who can stand on their own two feet when you can barely exist on your own as you are?”

Why can I stand on my own two feet?

It’s true that I’m standing, entirely by dint of my own will, but…how? Do I…really have the justification needed to claim that?

…I don’t. I don’t have that justification.

If I thought for hours, I wouldn’t be able to find a reason to explain where that willpower came from. It certainly didn’t come from me. I…couldn’t give any reason as to why I chose to stand, to get as far as I have. I’ve never believed in myself.

But others did.

“I can stand up straight…because I have the rationality to remain faithful. Faithful to the words that others speak, faithful to the patterns that I may see, faithful to how others have treated me. They’ve placed their faith and trust in me, all this time…and I refuse to believe that it’s for no reason. I can stand up straight…because they believed I could; and if they can believe in me, I can believe in them.”

He parried an attack. The Distortion let out a quiet huff of exertion as their fight escalated.

“Ridiculous. You’re blindly leaving your fate in the hands of others. That reliance will only end up hurting you in the end. All whom you have loved and all whom you have trusted have left your side. You are alone once more. Their faith means nothing once they are gone. To cling to it will only lead to you crumbling on your own.”

He’s right. If I just rely on others, then I'll be in that much more pain when they leave. That inevitable outcome won’t ever be changed if I idly rely on them.

I’ve lost so many people. So much has left my side.

But, still, even so…even so!

“Even so…I don’t want to give up like that! I have the hope to reach another day! One step at a time, I want to cling to life, to the emotions that have driven me! I…for their sake, I want to keep moving, even if it’s vain, even if it hurts! Even if it’s stupid, even if I’m the biggest fool in the world, I want to cling to the idea that I can find tomorrow!”

One more clash. His strikes were slowly gaining traction. The Distortion was being pushed back…and a wing flapped open from its back.

“And yet, here you are, cowering on the floor of the Library, closing your eyes once more. You are very well aware that your words have little meaning if you cannot act on them. Even if you wish for it, there is nothing you can do. You will always end up like that; cowering and refusing to face the truth.”

…Even if I want to refute it…I know that he’s speaking the truth.

It knows me so well…because it’s me.

But…there’s one thing that separates the two of us.

One clear event, one distinction that prevented me from becoming exactly what i see before me…

They clashed once more, and Philip allowed the smallest of smiles to form on his face. “I know. It’ll always hurt. I’ll always want to cower. I’ll always want to turn away. But…the sheer fact that I haven't is a virtue in and of itself. In the face of the greatest despair, standing before Pluto and Oswald, I had the fearlessness to open my eyes. If I can do it once, then I’ll take one step at a time and do it twice. If I can do it twice, then I can do it again, and again, and again, until I can meet everything that might hurt me with confidence.”

The Distortion backed off. Around it, four wax angels rose from the ground, all of them bearing Philip’s own countenance. He watched them with a wary expression.

“That fearlessness will never last. It isn’t something that can be afforded to someone like you. You are not someone who can ever become someone worthy of being looked up to. You shouldn’t expect to ever be rewarded for facing your pain. it is a thankless pain. Sympathy and love will not be granted to you simply because you bore with the suffering.”

…That’s right. I’m not worth looking up to. Even someone like the Red Mist turned coat against the people of the City, causing pain and suffering through the Library. If her nature was that foul, then what hope could I have?

I always wanted to be brave. I wanted to do good. It was just my selfish nature that’s been holding me back all this time. But…since when were those two things mutually exclusive?

Even the worst of the worst can be a hero. Even the best of the best can be a villain.

And I...

“But…even I…even I want to have expectations for myself! I don’t want to live without any reason for my existence! I buried my expectations, trying to prevent my suffering, but all I could do was flounder. Even after meeting someone who went astray, I don’t think I could have left those expectations behind entirely. The expectation for the nature of a hero…that isn’t something I’ve forgotten, even if I suppressed it. Even if I’m not worthy of it, I’ll hold myself to it, and move forward!”

Although he was outnumbered, Philip still fought with a practiced ease. He never felt like the fight was out of his control. The angel statues never landed a hit on him. The Distortion wasn’t ever in a position to take him down.

“Even if you decide to play hero, even if you face all that may hurt you, there will always be things that you cannot control. You will be filled with sadness over and over again, and you will lose those you care about. It is the duty of the strong to be alone. Your heart is not powerful enough to bear that. You will be burned again and again. If you empty your heart, you will be free from that pain, free to exist exactly according to how you wish without ever having to consider another.”

If I avoid pain, I won’t be hurt, but…what would be the point?

I would never feel pain, but I would also never feel the happiness of making a new friend, the joy of eating a new food, the thrill of experiencing something new…the elation of seeing someone I love.

“...I couldn’t have made it this far without the people who were at my side. Lowell taught me that it’s fine, no matter what, to hold the people I care about close to my side. I can bear with any pain that may come my way, because…without the courage to cherish another, there will never be anything worth living for.”

When Philip swung his blade, the last statue of the crying children were destroyed. The Distortion was quiet for a long moment before growling, raising its longsword. Its body glowed with an achingly familiar power as it was inundated with flame, the same power that Philip had relied on to defeat so many foes…

It rocketed forwards, preparing to strike him down…and Philip met him head on, the strength of that strike meeting a simple swing of his blade and finding itself an equal match.

“It doesn’t matter how many people you cherish, or how much you try to avoid pain. There will always be those who try to hurt you. Your efforts will never bear fruit. Save yourself the pain, and ignore those who may hurt you. It is what you have done all along.”

…My nature. It’s always remained the same. Whether or not I truly ran away, whether or not I could have done something…those questions will always plague me.

This world is filled with people like me; people who consider only themselves.

But I…I want to try to be better.

“...I can’t save myself any pain. It’s a part of me, after all. There will always be those who are selfish and cowardly. I’m one of them. But…if I don’t try, I can’t change anything. I’ll never become a better person if I don’t keep on trying. I’ll rely on that selfishness and cowardice, and I’ll face it in my own way.”

With a single flick of the blade, the Distortion was sent flying.

The two were silent for a long moment as it came to a screeching stop, staring up at him malevolently. Keeping his back straight, Philip stared at his counterpart with a sad expression as it began to speak.

“...Very well, then. Allow me to show you the truest expression of that emotion…the true power that can result from embracing your own fear.”

A pillar of light overwhelmed the entire floor, and Philip shook, barely managing to stay on his feet. Had he not been standing so confidently, he certainly would have fallen.

When the light faded, what had once been a simple Distortion had become far more terrifying.

A jagged crown of fire hung above its head, and in its hand was a ball of fire that shone like an eclipsed sphere. It stood like an angel of flame, now completely made of wax.

“You’ve…completely Distorted now, huh?” He mused to himself quietly. This was what he would become if he had given in. That strength…he could tell just from looking at it that he was powerful.

And yet…there was still…

“...Philip. Even if you choose to face yourself, even if you choose to become as strong as you possibly can be, even if you choose to live earnestly…you cannot overcome it all. That pain will haunt you forever. Those doubts will remain in your mind until the end of time. And that…will always be what holds you back.”

The Distortion raised the sun in its hands, and an overwhelming flame swept over him. It was all Philip could do to raise his arms and block it. It swept over him with overwhelming force. It would have killed him if he were fighting it in the same condition as he was fighting the Library…

…and yet…

The fire washed over him. He barely clung to life, still standing tall. His Distortion watched, a faint hint of surprise to its form. Philip pulled in deep, ragged, gasping breaths, feeling the searing pain throughout his body, and finding it lacking when it came to stopping him. He had come this far, so why would he stop now?

“...Whenever I feel lost, and whenever I have doubts…I can look up to the night sky, at all the stars hanging above. When I look towards that guiding light…I know that there will be two wings hanging from my back. One wing will face towards dusk, remembering the pain of yesterday. One wing will face towards dawn, facing the woes of tomorrow. With both of them together…only then will I be able to fly freely, and face today as it will come.”

The willingness to stand up straight.

The rationality to remain faithful.

The hope to reach another day.

The fearlessness to open one’s eyes.

The expectation for the nature of a hero.

The courage to cherish another.

Those who are selfish and cowardly.

One wing facing towards dusk; remembering pain.

One wing facing towards dawn; looking towards tomorrow.

All of them necessary…to form…

There was silence between the two of them. Philip quietly raised his blade. The Distortion scoffed. “Even then…even with all of that…it still can’t be enough. You know very well that you’re lacking. No matter how hard you try, no matter what you do, you cannot change your nature by simple will alone.”

“...You’re wrong. I can never make up for my selfish past. But, with all of the things I’ve learned, with all the gifts and the faith I’ve been given, and with all of the bonds that I’ve formed…only with them can I create the selfless ‘I’, and build a path towards the future.”

And when Philip swung his blade, a pure, white light erupted in the space between the two.

All was silent for a long, long moment. He was panting from the exertion.

This feeling…this was what I wanted to feel. This truest expression of myself…I think I can finally cast away what was holding me back.

I don’t need to cling to what will hurt me…but I shouldn’t ignore it, either.

I want to be more than a candle that needs to burn itself to the ground to be useful.

Even I…can be truly selfless. This, I sincerely, ingenuously believe.

The light faded…and the only thing that remained was a woman. She was brunette, wearing an unbuttoned lab coat with a green dress shirt beneath. Her red eyes had a teasing glint to them, and she wore a wide smile.

…He wasn’t surprised to see her in the slightest.

“You’ve gotten a lot stronger, haven’t you, Philip?” Her voice…it was the same voice that had whispered into his ear every time he tapped into his E.G.O.

“...I can only thank the people around me. Without them, I wouldn’t be anything more than a husk. The future you saw for me would’ve come true a thousand times over. And now, I want to give their faith back to them. I want to make up for everything they’ve lost because of, or even in spite of, me.”

“Are you going to be able to follow through?”

“Of course. That isn’t even worth asking. I’ve come this far; to give up now would be to spit on those who shared this journey with me.”

She gave him an earnest smile. “I’m glad you’ve finally decided what you want.”

“...You’re the one who tried to push me to Distort. You’ve been speaking into the ears of the Reverberation Ensemble all this time. You managed to get even Xiao to distort. There’s no reason for you to be happy about this.”

“I just want everyone to express their emotions fully. Whether that be by Distorting or manifesting E.G.O doesn’t matter that much to me. You saw how hard you had to push to do the latter; don’t you think it would’ve been much easier to simply give in?”

“To hell with that. The dawn looks much more dull without color. If I gave in…”

“...Hm. Yeah, I can see that. Hey, this might be the last time we see each other. You don’t need me anymore, and I know that I can’t say anything that will sway you anymore. In that case…introductions are in order, right? My name is Carmen. It’s nice to meet you.”

“...Let’s hope it’s the last time,” he responded gruffly.

“It probably will be for us, I promise. We might meet one last time…but for now, this is goodbye.”

“Good riddance. I can’t believe some people even bothered listening to you. Now, get the hell out of my head,” he scowled.

No matter how much he wanted to become a better person, there would always be people and things he couldn’t forgive. This woman in front of him was one of them.

She gave an even wider smile at that, waving at him.

Light overwhelmed his vision, and he was forced to shut his eyes.

Slowly, Philip opened his eyes once more.

He was in the Library’s foyer, still pinned to the bookshelf by Xiao’s blade. It felt like nothing had changed for him, as though the entirety of what he had just experienced was little more than a dream. In all honesty, it probably was.

His E.G.O had fallen away. He didn’t need the shell anymore.

Gritting his teeth, he gripped Xiao’s sword and ripped it from his shoulder. The wound bled sluggishly before slowly beginning to close on its own.

…She left that blade behind. She had walked into that battle expecting to die. That sense of sacrifice had only hurt her. But, at the same time, she could have brought her sword along. It would have raised her chances. Whatever her purpose for leaving it behind was, he would make the most of it.

Letting out a short sigh, he placed a hand on his knee, bringing himself to full height. After a short moment, he wiped off Xiao’s blade and sheathed it. The Library was quiet, and the door further inwards was open.

With a snap, Angela appeared before him yet again. “What did I tell you? Xiao would be the first to crumble, and you would flee. It seems that my intellect remains intact.”

“Where has Xiao gone?” He asked quietly. Angela looked somewhat miffed at his non-reaction.

“She has Distorted, and fled the Library. To my knowledge, she is in the City. Now, will you be joining her in fleeing, or shall we continue the reception? I dislike those who lollygag on my doorstep.” She crossed her arms. Despite her saying that, she looked…worried.

“...There’s only one floor left to go, isn’t there? Until the Library falls,” he asked.

Angela was silent for a long moment. “The Library cannot fall- not in the manner that you wish. But I shall abide by the rules I have set. Every single book that I have taken from you shall be returned if you win. In your state, however, I don’t think there’s too much to be worried about.”

Philip stared at the doors.

If I go in there, I can defeat Roland. I can recover everyone’s books…Chun, Miris, Lowell, Mei, Cecil, Pameli, Pamela, Oscar, Yuna…Salvador. Everyone will be able to return to me.

…Without saying another word, Philip made up his mind.

And he began to walk for the exit.

“...So, your decision is to flee once more. I can’t say I’m surprised.” Angela sounded almost bored.

He came to a pause. “I don’t think you’ll be able to understand me, no matter how much I explain it, but…I’m not running. Not this time.”

“You may dress it up in whatever convenient light you wish- you are abandoning a battle. Is that not running?”

He turned to face her, a solemn feeling welling up within him. “It doesn’t really matter how you view it, or whether or not it’s convenient. I’m certain that I can win against Roland and whatever he may bring, and recover all that I’ve lost…but what would be the cost? Xiao has Distorted. An unchecked abomination, running free through Nest L…how many lives will be lost? How many people need to be hurt in order to satisfy my own selfishness? I’m going to take responsibility for my failures, for the amount of time it took me to realize my truth. It’s the only way I can make this right. I made a promise, and no matter what happens, I’ll make sure to bring her back. Lowell will miss her if he comes back alone, after all.”

For the longest of moments, Angela looked confused. It was only when he began to turn around once more that she spoke again. “You’re letting go, at the very end of it all? You know you only have a single floor to defeat. Is your resolve that flimsy-”

“I won’t sacrifice anything ever again,” he said quietly, cutting her off, “whether it be myself, the people I cherish, or those who are uninvolved. I can’t put a price on human life. I’ll lose my way if I do. I’ll do my best to ensure that nobody has to suffer pain like mine again.”

“...Just where is this confidence of yours coming from? Without your E.G.O, you’ll be killed in an instant. It will be a waste of effort. A battle will, at the very least, allow you to manifest it once more.” She looked genuinely upset with him.

At those words, he allowed himself to smile, spreading his arms out wide. “What do you mean? Right now, I’m stronger than I ever have been. Angela, I’ve been told that choosing to go down a path is different from walking down it. From this point on…I’ll show you the power of a single step.”

Angela didn’t say a single word as he began to walk once more.

There was still one person he could face, one soul he could save, one wrong he could right.

He would face that future with the trust of everyone on his back.

Salvador’s coat. Lowell’s training. Xiao’s blade. And…his own emotions. He would never shy away from anything ever again. He would face it head-on, because what was there to be scared of with so many people supporting him, even this long after they had left his side?

He would save Xiao, he would save the people of the City, and he would save those he had lost to the Library. He refused to place any of them above another. No matter how impossible it seemed…he felt more certain in his own power than ever before.

Philip exited the Library and, with his hands in his pockets, walked to the streets.

“Whoo, that was a lot closer than I would’ve liked! Can’t believe someone could get that strong in a flash like that. She was already tough as nails, but still, she got real versatile, real quick. That fire, that thing where she made our extra power useless, those shadows she summoned…” Roland whistled, stretching high.

Angela did not respond for a very, very long moment.

“...Roland. Philip left the Library.”

“Yeah? Not surprised. That kid ran from everything. You even said that he would do that yourself, right? He managed to drag even more people into this plot of his-”

“That’s not it.” She sharply rebuked, and Roland fell silent.

“...So what’s the problem?”

“He was confident. Much more so than he had any right to be. And…his E.G.O faded.”

Something was deeply, deeply wrong about this situation to her. Something she couldn’t put her finger on. It gnawed at her, sprouting worry. If she lost that number of books to Philip, they would lose a significant portion of the Light, not even counting what he had taken as part of his own E.G.O. Logically, her fears made no sense to her because she had now gotten the chance to return all of the librarians to normal; he would have to fight his way from the bottom to the top all on his own again if he wanted them, and yet…

“Good for him, I guess. You ask me, I think he was just happy to run off. People can’t change that easily, so I wouldn’t worry too much. Kid’s probably gonna make some vain attempt at revenge again or never come back, so he’s pretty much out of the cards.”

“...Yes, perhaps…perhaps you are right. We can’t watch him at the moment, so…” She couldn’t watch him with the invitation anymore. She needed to have faith in it. It was leading her to the one perfect book, to make up for what she had suffered and ruin that man’s-

“Nobody gives a sh*t about a motivation like that.”

Her teeth ground together. Roland, perceptive as usual, noticed. “Something still bugging you about the kid?”

“...Roland. Do you believe…that everything I’ve been doing is worth it?”

Do you believe…their suffering can make up for my own? Did his words have merit?

Do you…care?

“Hm…that’s a toughie. I couldn’t tell you. We can’t know until we see how good that one perfect book of yours is. Freedom’s all well and good, but…”

He trailed off, a distinct look on his face. An uncomfortable expression, something that he had worn before…

“...Xiao. Are you considering her situation?”

“Yeah. She really did want to come here to save the one she loved. If it were me, and I could get my wife back by taking down a place like this, then I would’ve done it by any means possible. No matter what I had to sacrifice...I guess I get why she Distorted. Can’t say I blame her for trying, at least. That’s gotta be the worst part of working here, by far. It’s not something I can shake off too easily…but still, that’s that and this is this. If we can’t stomach something as simple as tearing two lovers apart, then freedom’s not gonna do us much good.”

…For how long must I make others suffer until I am compensated for my own suffering? I attempted to make the process as free from cruelty as possible, and yet, seeing her tears…I cannot imagine that the anguish she felt is any less than my own. I unleashed a creature that we cannot currently stop onto the City, all because we took the lives of those who were ordered to come here.

“...Xiao…she could have recovered on her own, I believe, had Philip not been present.” Angela said quietly.

“Oh? What makes you say that?”

“Philip’s attempts to help her only served to solidify her negative spiral. She internalized his talks of selfishness, and whatever it was that the voice only they could hear said only cemented it. Had there been a more stern, steady grounding force, she could have manifested E.G.O. She was far stronger and more resilient than most. Philip’s mindset was flawed even in his awakening, however. He still had distrust in the back of his mind. He couldn’t steadily hold faith in himself, let alone his Director, and because of that, he couldn’t take decisive action and help guide her when she was at her most vulnerable. Because of that, the words that the voice said took the lead, grasping onto her vulnerabilities and pushing her to Distort…” She trailed off.

“It's a bit weird to me that the kid managed to last this long without Distorting. I mean, from what you’ve said, I can tell that he’s not the determined type. His thoughts were all self-centered and pushy, without any real weight to them. Someone like Gebura’s a lot closer to the real deal. You can tell that she’s got what it takes to follow through on what she says.”

…Something about those words made her worried. Not because Roland didn’t believe them whole-heartedly; he did, but that wasn’t the problem. No…

The feeling she got from Philip, as he was leaving the Library…it was something very, very similar to the feeling she got whenever she spoke to Gebura at length.

A quiet determination, a resolute stance…

“...There are new books to organize, Roland. Get to work.”

She didn’t care about if she were being snappy or not. He gave her a somewhat confused look, but she merely turned her head.

…She disliked unpredictable variables. Even now they they had come so far…why did it feel as though she had gained nothing?

The night was overcast. Philip was calm as he walked out into the street.

Flying high in the sky above Nest L was a sight that none in the City had seen before; a tremendously large golden dragon, lacking any wings, slithering through the air. It looked closer to a snake than anything else. Long, flaming tears burned tracks down its snout. Two horns, both looking similar to black branches, extended wildly into the sky above it. The creature could be seen from miles and miles away.

“A golden flood dragon, the symbol of the Liu…”

Nest L was growing more and more deserted as time went by, but there were still hundreds of thousands of people just in eyesight of the Library. There were no Colors nearby; none that would help, at least. The only way people would survive this would be through their own strength, and only those who were willing to face a Star of the City could even begin to consider offering help.

That meant…once more, he was facing something of that level on his own.

The Distorted Xiao roared as she writhed through the sky. It sounded much, much closer to an anguished wail. It sent a spike of grief through his heart.

Director…I won’t allow this to continue. You deserve more than to be a shell of your former self. I won’t let you hurt yourself like this any longer.

Slowly, he removed his hands from his pockets. People all around him were panicking, abject fear on most of their faces as they fled away from the monster that had yet to take action. He couldn’t blame them; if he hadn’t come as far as he had, then seeing something even half as strong as Xiao would have terrified him.

But…he had come much farther than most.

Slowly, he took one step. Then, equally slowly, another.

One step at a time, he began to move. One step at a time, he began to accelerate, until he was flying past city blocks like they were nothing.

…Even though I know I’ve gotten stronger, this still isn’t winding me at all.

Director Xiao…I made a promise.

No matter what, I want to make good on what I told Miris.

No matter what…I’ll help you return to your path.

That…was his will.

One wing sprouted from his back. It wasn’t a wax wing- no, this wing was pure, with feathery white down.

And…after a short moment, a second one, a perfect, fragile mirror of the first, joined it.

Above his head, a golden circlet formed, made of warm, glowing flame, shining a bright golden light.

Xiao roared in the skies above, and Philip planted his foot in the ground.

His wings were still so new, still so fragile…could he really fly with them?

…The Distortion far, far above began gathering power.

This…it could probably cause as much damage as the Pianist, if I had to guess…and I’ll be the one to bring her down.

Even if I’m not worthy of this power…I still earned it. I put one foot in front of another, and I’ve ended up here.

His wings flapped as warmth ensconced him, and with a tremendous push, he took flight. It was staggering, slow, and unsure, but his wings caught the air and he flew.

If even someone like me can fly…then I’m certain that you can return and see the stars with the people you love too, Xiao.

The dragon spotted him coming, letting out a bellowing roar. From its horns, a massive ball of fire formed. With a thrash of the head and a tearful glare, that ball was thrown in his direction.

His wings closed around his body as the fire reached him, and Philip closed his eyes. Even despite the overwhelming heat, even despite the malice and rage and sorrow within the attack…

…I won’t let myself get burned ever again.

With one powerful push, his wings flared out, and the flame dispersed. That attack, which would have killed him before, became little more than warmth that revitalized him, closing his wounds, eliminating his weariness.

His wings kept him aloft as he stared up at Xiao, still so, so far above him. Even if he pushed as hard as he could, was there any chance he could reach those heights?

…Even if he couldn’t, he could claw up at her. One step at a time…that was how he would face this City and all the flaws within.

And then, a deep rumbling noise came from above.

“...Philip…”

The voice was warbling, anguished. His eyes went wide when he heard it.

“...Director. I followed your orders and fled. Even if you don’t care to see me, I’ve come all the same. I hope…I can see your real face again, someday.”

He doubted she could hear him from their distance. For a long moment, tears of magma only continued to pour down the face of the flood dragon…and then, it let out another anguished cry.

Countless massive, jagged spines erupted from the dragon’s back. The sheer quantity of them blotted out the night sky, and with a loud roar, the Distortion’s horns generated even more flame, setting them all on fire. It was as though she were merely venting her emotion, trying to rid herself of her pain. He grit his teeth as he saw them all begin to fall towards the city, racing down like meteors ablaze. Philip took a deep breath, unsheathing Xiao’s sword.

…If even one of those hits the ground, it’ll kill thousands. Xiao…she wouldn’t be able to forgive herself if she did something like that.

In that case…I’ll destroy them all in one fell swoop.

Flame filled his heart and warmed his body. Like a soft, gentle embrace, it coated him, venting clearly and purely into the open sky, lighting up the quiet night. That golden light shone purely against the dark night that was set ablaze by the backlight of countless malevolent flames.

The sword in his hands…it truly was perfect.

He reared it back…and with all of his might, with everything he had in him, Philip swung.

It was no raging storm of flame. It was no horizontal slice that went beyond logic. There was no surging desperation within him, searching for victory at all costs.

It was merely an expression of his most earnest wish; a wish to see the dawn.

And, all across Nest L, there was not a single person who would deny that they saw the sun rise, if only for the shortest of moments. The long, dark night had become bright with warmth, and the sheer despair that they may have felt at the sight of their end had fled.

Because, far above them, every single attack that may have ended their lives was burned up, brought low by the weight of that light.

Like the sun itself had come to save them, their fear was dispelled…and soon, the eyes of the entire Nest were on the battle.

Philip let loose a short sigh. Not of exertion, but merely of relief. The flame that sustained him continued to burn. So long as that endless flame burned, he could find it within him to fight; so long as he could fight, then he could protect others.

Tiphereth…she said that even the most basic of Rats had a meaning for their existence, scolding him for casting away his expectations. She was right. He would not be able to deny the meaning that they clung to, regardless of how much they hurt others to survive, no matter how much pain they suffered.

The expectations he held…the expectation for the nature of a hero was something that was very, very far from his mind at the moment. All that Philip could think was that this was something that he must do, because he was the only one who bore the burden to do so. He wasn’t doing it to save others, no matter how unrepentant they were. His actions weren’t chosen to earn him praise, no matter how praiseworthy they may be. He wasn’t worried about receiving flak, for it was his fault that this situation occurred in the first place. He wasn’t concerned about his own pain, regardless of the tears that streaked down his face as he raised his blade. And, through that process…he was meeting his own expectations, even though he was completely unaware of that fact.

His wings beat once more, and he flew higher and higher. Xiao’s attacks only increased in intensity; fire bore down upon him, strange, shadowy remnants of those he had lost attacked him even as he flew, scales aimed to cut him down- and yet, despite it all, he continued on.

…He could see it. On Xiao’s neck, there was a scale that was growing in the wrong direction.

He didn’t want to kill her, but he couldn’t allow her to rampage any longer.

Up close, Xiao’s Distorted form was much smaller than it appeared. The flood dragon seemed to be much larger from a distance. Like an animal puffing itself up to seem more threatening to predators, the very sight of which drained any extra power from his limbs, forcing him to fight exactly as he was…

Xiao, were you that terrified of being hurt? Did the pain of your loss erode you that much?

Desperately, she launched one final, all-encompassing flame, a ball of energy gathered at her mouth, firing towards him.

…And once more, he raised his blade and with one clean cut, the flame dispersed all around him.

It calmly licked at his cheek, aimed to burn through Salvador’s coat, and yet, that golden warmth that filled his body buffeted it away, acting as a rock in a river. The flame that she bellowed sputtered out before coming anywhere close to the City, and while gritting his teeth resolutely, Philip’s blade stabbed outwards in one clean motion.

That scale was his target, and no matter how much Xiao squirmed, she wouldn’t evade the attack. It landed home, and she let out one loud, long bellow.

He removed his blade, and the Distortion began to fall.

As she did…he saw her bleeding from multiple spots on her body.

…The only reason I took her down so easily…she was already injured from the Library.

…Right. There was no need to worry about that.

His wings carried him downward at a breakneck pace, and he grabbed the back of the flood dragon as she fell. She offered no resistance to his action, and with a determined grunt, he guided their fall.

He couldn’t stop it entirely, however.

When they slammed to the ground in a relatively open portion of Nest L, they created a massive plume of dust and rock as Xiao’s form cratered its way through several decrepit buildings, left abandoned in the wake of its lost Wing. His wings were strong, but still so new, still so unpracticed; he couldn’t possibly stop their descent entirely, and when he found himself slipping, all he could do was wrap those wings around himself as he was sent flying from her back, rolling across the ground several times before coming to a stop within a cloud of dust.

…His wings were aching. They were still a part of him, regardless of how durable they were. To suffer that level of abuse…

Slowly, Philip pulled himself to his feet, planting his hands on the ground and pushing himself up. He could hear Xiao wheezing behind him.

He turned, looking towards her head-

-and there was someone crouched near her.

“You’re hurting quite a lot, aren’t you?”

His guard instantly flared up as he heard the man talking to her.

…He recognized that scythe.

“The Blue Reverberation...right? Good timing. I was going to come for you as soon as I finished up here.”

At that, the man paused, his silver hair the only thing that Philip could see. It was when he turned with a disappointed expression that Philip became certain- this was the Blue Reverberation, in the flesh. Which meant…

“You ignored her voice, choosing to douse yourself in those disgusting colors. You could have changed the City to fit the world you sought, if only you had listened to her. Even Xiao understands that at her core. Haha…I guess I’m just confused. How could someone possibly be that stupid?” Argalia laughed.

Philip closed his eyes. The fire within him…it was strong and true. He would believe in it. “There’s no need to change the City to suit my liking. This world isn’t something that I need to flee from. It’s…still worth saving, no matter how abhorrent you may think it is.”

“Haha. Let’s agree to disagree on that one. Unfortunately, you’ve come much too far to be allowed to continue. You almost destroyed a potential ally of mine, after all.”

As he spoke…eight Distortions appeared around him.

“You would never suffice as a gear. You’ve grown much too distant from reality for that.”

The leader of the Church of Gears, a woman led by Thought Gears who commands a cult.

“Those wings of yours might taste good raw, or maybe fried…hawhawhaw!”

The Eighth Chef, a shark Distortion obsessed with food who killed the other Eight Chefs.

“Bwakbwakbwak! Arfarfarf…bwaegh! NEIGH!”

The Musicians of Bremen, three creatures as one, each with independent thought.

“Long time no see! Your smell has grown so, so sickeningly sweet, though…I hate you! I thought we had something special!”

The Eight o’Clock Circus, a clown Distortion that combined humans with its attractions.

“Gah, wings or no wings, halo or no halo, who cares? Still looks like a twig to me. Hey, can I break him in half?”

L’heure du Loup, a wolf distortion obsessed with strength.

“Even if you do, I imagine I can find quite the use for his body. He’s sturdier than he looks if he got this far.”

The Puppeteer, a Distortion who stitches up corpses and forces them to move at his command.

“I call dibs. This one evaded me last time. His blood was sweet…”

The Blood-red Night. A Bloodfiendish who controls the body of the Vermilion Cross.

“...You. What exactly…have you become?”

Yesterday’s Promise. A skeletal Distortion who offers twisted contracts.

“Hmm…No matter what you’ve become, I doubt you’ll achieve the outcome you desire.”

…And the Blue Reverberation, the man who leads them all.

He closed his eyes.

“Yeah…that feels about right. I feel like…I can do it. I’m glad you’ve all gathered here at the same time. I’ve got a few grudges to settle.”

And as he spoke, he raised his blade once more.

The expression on Argalia’s face went from dull amusem*nt to something much more genuine. “Haha! You’ve grown a lot more confident. That’s good. Having you run away would make this much more boring.”

Pluto was the first to speak. “...Sir Argalia. I must advise caution.”

Argalia gave him a slantwise glance. “Hm?”

When Philip spoke, his voice held a low gravel to it. “I know…that I can’t beat you all, and I definitely can’t do so against all of you at once. I’m not stupid enough to think that. But I can tell that you’ve been gathering Distortions for a reason, and there’s only one reason I can think of. It all comes back to the Library, doesn’t it? But Distortions on the level of a Star of the City aren’t easy to come by.”

L’heure du Loup looked impatient. “Can’t you people just get to the point already? It’s annoying when you drag things out like this. We ain’t gonna keel over and die on our own if you bore us to death.”

“...If you attack me now, are you really prepared for the consequences? You’ll kill me, but I’m certain I can kill at least three of you. Can you really take out the Library when you’re crippled? Can you afford the time it’ll take to recruit more Distortions strong enough to face them?”

The smile had fallen from Argalia’s face.

I…I don’t want to make a sacrifice play. I refuse to. But if I don’t show the will to do so, the will to fight to the end, he’ll never take me seriously.

No matter what…if I play this wrong, I’ll be killed.

“...Alright, then. Since you’re so certain, what do you expect from this situation? By the way, no matter what you say, I’ll be taking Xiao with us. It’s just as you say- Distortions on the level of a Star of the City are hard to come by. Letting one slip from my grasp would be oh so foolish, don’t you agree?” Argalia’s words had a slight lilt to them, mocking him passively.

Philip grit his teeth. Argalia…he was probably making the same play that Philip was making. Neither of them wanted to back down, but if neither of them gave way, then they would both lose out on this encounter.

Philip wanted to take Xiao with him to try to restore her back to how she was and keep her from getting a target painted onto her back by the City. Argalia wanted to take Xiao and distort her further, to warp her views to match whatever twisted sh*t went on inside his head and use her for his own purposes. Right now, that was the pivotal issue. Argalia likely wouldn’t try to sacrifice multiple of his allies for Xiao, but if Philip fought to the death here, then everything he had done would have been for nothing.

The difference between them was that the Blue Reverberation was probably insane enough to follow through on his end, no matter what the cost was.

…As much as it pained him to admit, there was only one decision to make.

Philip raised a hand. The fire inside him, that warmth…instinctively, he knew what he could do with it.

The halo disappeared from his head, and it reappeared over Xiao’s Distortion. Bathing her in golden light, her wounds slowly began to close, her wheezing slowing, the cracks in her scales vanishing. Slowly, she opened one eye, staring directly at Philip. She was completely silent. He didn’t bother trying to hide his sadness from her.

“...You really are an interesting one, aren’t you?” Argalia smiled.

Philip scoffed. “Don’t mistake this for camaraderie with you. The moment I get the chance, I’m going to kill you. But…you want the Library gone for reasons I don’t really care about at the moment. I'm perfectly willing to exploit you, and right now, I’m sure you feel the same towards me. Even if it only weakens them, I’ll happily throw your Ensemble at the Library so I can take back the books that matter to me. I’ll gladly burn our bridge after we cross it, but for now, there’s no need to fight. Besides…if there’s anyone I trust to bring herself back from the brink, it’s the Director. No matter what you say, no matter what she does, she will inevitably right herself and return to how she used to be.”

Pluto was silent for a long moment. “A wise decision fueled by baseless faith.”

“It’s only because of that faith that I could take a step down this path at all. I wonder where I’ll end up at the very end of it all…”

Argalia’s smile was wide. “...Alright, I accept your offer. So long as you stay out of our way, we’ll stay out of yours until we raid the Library. You’re quite the humorous person, Philip. I thought you would certainly be someone that I would hate, but this is quite the pleasant surprise.”

“...I can’t say that the feeling is mutual. Let’s just go our own ways. I can’t even believe that I’m letting you go free…” Philip grit his teeth. This situation…he hated it. Having to let all the people who had hurt him go free almost went against everything he believed in.

But at the same time, he didn’t want to be selfish again. He would work quietly, preventing them from hurting others, and when they raided the Library, he would destroy both them and that damn building.

And then, from above, he heard the sound of someone clicking their tongue. “My, I had no idea that something this interesting would occur.”

Both parties’ heads snapped up.

Sitting atop a broken and ruined pillar was a woman in purple, with several swords strapped to her.

The Purple Tear…

The woman jumped down to their level. His annoyance flared at the sight of her. “Were you here this entire time? Did you let Xiao run rampant?”

“There was no reason to intervene. You had it very well handled. I was here for other reasons and grew curious as to what sort of situation would unfold with your discretion, and I happened to hear something interesting.”

Argalia let out a short chuckle. “Ah, Iori…have you come here to die? You wouldn’t reveal yourself in front of all of us for no reason, right?”

The Purple Tear chuckled. “I have no intention of dying in this place. You, boy,” she gestured towards Philip, “go ahead and leave. You won’t be needed here, and besides, I doubt I’ll be doing any fighting.”

Of course not. If only I had her help, I could probably force them to hand over Xiao…

“...Whatever. Do as you please. If you want to throw your life away to the Ensemble, be my guest.”

Without saying another word to her, his wings flapped, and he took off into the distance. She watched him go, predatory purple eyes stalking his every movement.

…I couldn't save Xiao. Not yet. But if there’s anything I’ve learned from Lowell, it’s that retreating to fight another day is just as valid a strategy as any.

I’ll get back their books and save you from that form, Director. I promise…I won’t let you all down.

I’ll make sure to show you that it wasn’t a mistake to put your faith in me.

Hana Association: Post-Suppression Report

At approximately 2200 hours in the skies above Nest L, a new Distortion appeared. Codenamed ‘Huanglong’, it was immediately classified as a Star of the City.

There was not enough time to hire Fixers from other Associations or dispatch any from the Hana Association. Approximately five minutes after the Distortion’s appearance, one Fixer took to the skies to battle Huanglong. No workshop gear could be identified. In the aftermath of their battle, Huanglong fell to the ground. There were no reports on the events that transpired afterwards, although Huanglong has not been terminated.

It has been noted that Huanglong has been inducted into the Reverberation Ensemble. The threat level of that group should be reassessed appropriately.

Property damage: minimal.

Mind wipes required: zero.

Payouts required: none.

Casualties: zero.

Special Notes:

The Fixer who resolved the incident has been titled the Golden Dawn.

Chapter 8: Facing The Fear

Chapter Text

Ssanghwa-cha.

It’s a tea that Philip hadn’t made in quite some time. What seemed like a lifetime ago, his master, Salvador, was quite fond of it.

He never quite took the time to drink it himself; he preferred chamomile. The most he would do was taste test it. There was never a better time to try it than now, considering that more stress than ever was on his shoulders.

Boil the water. Steeple the leaves for the proper amount of time. Add the egg yolk and a small dash of milk. Serve.

Slowly, he took a drink.

“...It really is good,” he mused aloud.

Salvador had frequently praised him for his tea-making skills, saying that if he were to be compared to all other people who made tea in the City, then his skills would be like a Color. Salvador had a solemn look on his face when he said that Philip would be given the Color yellow, just like the egg yolk and his favorite flowers. Even though he’d only been joking back then, Philip had still felt a small amount of pride in himself.

It was funny, looking back on it. He was certain that Salvador would be surprised to know that his prediction would come true, in a way.

The Golden Dawn. That was the Color that the Hana Association had given Philip after his performance fighting Xiao. It was impossible for him to hide himself; facing her in such a high-profile way drew every eye in the City onto him. He’d gained a group of fans and detractors overnight. It was an alien feeling to him.

The president of the Liu Association had sent him a letter with a check for a very large amount of ahn promised if he would take the role of Director, even if it was only symbolic. The Liu South Section were scrambling to gain purchase after losing most of their top Fixers. His role, even if it was only symbolic, would’ve swung the momentum in their favor against the Fingers in Nest L. Philip had declined. That position could only be truly filled by one person. Until he got her back, then it wouldn’t be filled by him.

That being said, his work was far from done. The Reverberation Ensemble were making their moves slowly, and the Hana Association had begun to assault the Library after they had defeated more and more powerhouses. If it kept up as it was, soon even the Head would begin to take action.

The Purple Tear…he hadn’t stuck around to see what happened between her and the Blue Reverberation, but whatever their conversation had entailed, it ended with her entering the Library and being subsequently defeated. It put into perspective just how strong they had grown.

Still…I’m confident I can at least get back their books.

His E.G.O…even without activating it, he’d grown. Even down to his mindset, he felt like he’d changed, become better. With that E.G.O, however, he’d become much, much more of a threat. Strength, defense, speed, even support…there was no role he couldn’t fill. His strength felt like it was his, as though he had earned it, as though he didn’t have to fight tooth and nail for power that always fell short. For the first time, he could confidently say that he had grown strong.

And it was with that power that he had returned to the place where it all began.

Slowly, Philip finished his cup of tea inside the Dawn Office as music softly played in the background.

This place…Salvador’s insurance had been enough to keep it from being closed in the time it took Philip to pull himself together. Now, maintaining a spot in the Nest was no longer a problem. The work he got as a Color had ramped up in difficulty, but there would always be Stars of the City, even outside of the Library and the Reverberation Ensemble.

He’d tested his luck against a Star recently, just to see how strong he had grown. It had been cornered by other Fixers, information Offices working overtime just to track it, and he had moved in for the kill. It didn’t take more than half an hour to kill it, and any wounds he suffered were trivial to deal with. That singular incident covered rent for the Dawn Office for a year and a half.

His cup clinked back onto the table, the only sound in the quiet room. Philip sighed.

…It didn’t matter how strong he had become, or how many accolades he gathered. He was still just himself, all on his own. All of this had come to him at the cost of them…

…no, there was no reason to mope. Taking a deep breath, he collected himself. Getting their books back wasn’t just something he was choosing to do for himself. It wouldn’t be to ease his loneliness, or to amend for some perceived sin; he wanted to help them because the Library was a truly malevolent place, with countless lives being churned into it constantly. Even Angela…that director of the Library wasn’t even certain of her path. She just wanted to get revenge on someone who wronged her. There was no future for her beyond her own nose, beyond whatever freedom she thought she could earn.

Truthfully, he still agreed with many of the words he said to her. She was still working under the grindstone of the City, wearing down others for the sake of the self. Even if the ends justify the means for her, would she be able to bear the weight of killing so many people? Would the City be able to bear the weight of that many losses? Like it or not, the Library was a big name now, and many people have heard of the mysterious librarian who directs it. She would never be able to walk outside without her head being lopped off in an instant. No matter what she did, he got the feeling she would be sorely disappointed in the outcome.

Still…there was something that he would take back if given the chance.

Her doubts and guilt weren’t worthless. So long as she had them, there was a chance that she could come back from the brink, that she could fix all of this. He had no clue how the Library truly worked; even if it was impossible to return the people who were booked back into their original forms, then she could stop her actions and work for the good of others.

…But she was a machine, and attempting to develop a human heart would just get her killed by the Head. It was best for her to follow that will of her towards its natural conclusion- her eventual death at the hand of a Fixer.

Speaking of the Library…

Philip stared down at his desk, looking down at the invitation that sat there.

He’d received it only ten minutes ago. If he was getting it now, there was only one real explanation that made sense to him: the Library wanted him back, probably to finish him off for good. And, considering how he got his E.G.O in the Library, it probably had something to do with that woman- Carmen. Fortunately for him, he wouldn’t have to worry about her anymore.

There was, unfortunately, a more pressing problem. He’d hired several different Offices to keep an eye on the Reverberation Ensemble, and had gotten several reports about them in the past hour. It seemed like they were all approaching the Library. Philip wasn’t too sure how they planned on entering without an invitation, but it didn’t matter. Right now, they’d probably found a way inside, and were facing off against the librarians.

The invitation lined up well with the attack. Too well.

Whatever purpose the Library served…it would probably be fulfilled today, and it probably wanted him for it, to add to the bookshelves, the make the one perfect book that Angela sought.

He knew it was a trap. It was obvious. He was willing to bet that if he merely never responded to the invitation, he could delay or even stop Angela’s plans entirely. But…still, he had to take action. He couldn’t leave it as it was. He couldn’t let the Library continue to cause harm.

Philip knew that he had frequently rushed in with blind fervor in the past. He knew that this might be a repeat of those mistakes. But…at the same time, he wanted to help those he had lost. Earnestly, ingenuously, he wanted to do something kind. He wanted to make a difference with this power of his. He wanted to make it mean something.

The coat around his shoulders was as snug as always. The weight of the sword at his waist was as heavy as ever. The fire inside him continued to blaze brightly.

He was a Color, one of those most suited to handle the Stars of the City.

It was around time he started acting like it.

Today…one way or another, a Star of the City would fall and make way for the dawn.

The Library was quiet when he entered it.

Angela was already in the foyer, staring worriedly into the distance with a forlorn look on her face. He wasn’t sure if he could describe it as ‘grief-stricken’ or ‘betrayed,’ but there weren’t many positive emotions on her face.

“...You’re fully human now, aren’t you?”

She jumped at his words, turning to give him a scowl. “You’ve come again. You truly will never cease to be a thorn in our side, will you?”

“You’re under assault right now, aren’t you? The Reverberation Ensemble…I don’t know or really care what their goals are, but right now, it looks like the outcome will be the same- the Library will fall.” His words were quiet. Philip was only one man- throwing the entire Ensemble at the Library would be an easy way to wear them out. If they won, then he would put down as many of them that remained as possible. If they lost, then he could charge through what remained of the Library.

After his words, Angela’s worried and confused expression finally gave way to something familiar- annoyance. “...Indeed. I am very sorry, but we cannot receive you right now. Go back. We will entertain you another day.”

“I signed an invitation. Turning me away is the same as forfeiting, isn’t it? If you want me to walk away with some important books right when you’re under attack, then feel free.” His words were carefree. He knew how the Library worked well enough by now- she would never refuse a guest.

Her teeth ground together so hard he could see her jaw straining. “...That is correct. If you truly insist on attempting to interfere, then there is nothing I can do to stop you. If you wish to be little more than a nuisance until the end, then so be it.”

The doors opened violently. “Which floor will I be facing?”

“Does it truly matter? You’ll die there regardless.”

“Then let me rephrase my question. Which floor is Xiao on?”

“...It seems like you’ve learned nothing. You’ve come here to attempt to save someone else in the vain hope that your sacrifice might mean something. If you must know, she is on the Floor of History. I’ll send you there.” Angela crossed her arms, letting her vitriol be blatantly known.

Slowly, Philip nodded, walking towards the door. Before reaching it, however, he paused.

“...Angela. I told you that I won’t ever sacrifice anything ever again. That still holds true. I’ll give it my best until the very end. Time and time again…I’ll show you exactly what realization I’ve made. I hope you can come to a decision, too. Whether you’ll lose your freedom or not is entirely up to you. As for me…I’ve made the choice to be better than that woman’s words.”

“...That woman? The voice you speak of-”

But whatever Angela was going to say fell on deaf ears as he stepped through the doors.

For what would likely be the last time, he was brought to the Floor of History, warm, calming brown tones lining the battlefield. Ahead of him, he could see Malkuth and her librarians battling against someone painfully familiar…Xiao. She wasn’t in the same form as before- it seemed like she had returned to something more closely resembling a human, holding a weapon once more and wearing a suit. Her body, however, was still clearly draconic, scales completely covering her and malevolent red eyes glaring towards them before snapping towards him.

“...Philip.”

The librarians had returned to where they stood, the battle paused for a long moment. Malkuth looked nervous. “Uh…hey! So, um, we’re not really ready to-”

He ignored her, unsheathing his sword and rushing forward. Panicked, Malkuth raised her weapon, preparing to block him-

- and he ran straight past, slashing out towards Xiao.

Their swords clashed, and Xiao’s eyes narrowed. “You’re going to keep on standing in my way?”

“You’ve lost your way. You had faith in me, all this time…so I’ll have faith in you. I think you’ll recover, but until then, I can’t let you hurt yourself like this anymore.”

“Hurting myself? These are my true emotions. They can’t hurt me, because the only person who can’t hurt me is myself. If I never cherish another…”

“...Do you really think that’s true? Do you really think that the love you felt for Lowell was worthless?” He grit his teeth. It felt so absurd to hear.

Slowly, she nodded. “Yes. All it ever served to do was hurt me. I’m following Argalia because he said that, with the light of the Library, I could build a world where no one would have to be hurt by the ones they loved ever again. Then, that love within me will no longer hurt and claw at me. The fear of cherishing another would vanish.”

…Absurd.

With a burst of strength, he pushed forward, sending her skidding backwards. She didn’t appear worried, though. Snapping his blade forward, the two of them engaged in a frenzied dance of blades, their swords emitting sparks wherever fire didn’t fill the space between them. Distantly, he was aware of the librarians huddled closely together, watching their battle.

Xiao hadn’t degraded in skill at all; if anything, she was better now. She was still the Director, through and through. If there was ever anyone he was afraid to face in the Reverberation Ensemble, it would be her. Still…that didn’t mean he was going to sit back and take a beating.

With a sharp snap of the leg, he kicked her in the face, the hard scales protecting her easily but not preventing the damage entirely. While recoiling from the move, Xiao sent a large ball of fire in his direction. Dancing backwards, he avoided the attack, and the two of them had found distance once more.

“Director. I’m truly sorry for everything that you’ve gone through, the pain that you’ve experienced. I can’t blame you for your choice- I just can’t. I want to take revenge on the Library just as much as you do. But…this isn’t the way to go about it! There’s nobody who can lift our problems from our shoulders! More than anybody else, I understand wanting someone else to lift that weight from us…but instead of asking for lighter burdens, we have to ask for broader shoulders. That’s the only way forward…it’s the only way for us to grow as people. If we can’t stomach the pain and pursue happiness with our own strength, that happiness can never be afforded to us!” He roared, the flame within him stirring in tune with his passion.

“...You’ll never understand me, Philip. You’ll never understand the love I lost. I’ll never feel that pain again, so long as I remain true to my emotions. Even if it seems cowardly to you, it’s the only path forward for me now- I’ve burned every bridge that may lead me home.”

Xiao brandished her blade properly, and all around her, vague, shadowy remnants of others appeared. If he looked closely, Philip could see the general countenances of the people he had fought with in the Liu Association; in one, sticking particularly close to her side, was Lowell’s vague shape.

An intense frustration burned through his chest and salted his eyes. “...I didn’t want it to come to this. I hoped I could convince you. But…that seems impossible for me. For the last time, I’m going to apologize to you, Director. From here on out…we’re enemies.”

A burning, golden halo solidified above his head, and two white wings spread wide behind him- the symbols of his determination. If nothing else…he wanted to bury this hatchet here and now.

He could get her book back later.

…But with a firm step, someone reached his side.

“You realized your E.G.O, right?! Way to go! With you, we can definitely win!”

Malkuth seemed as cheery as ever. Philip looked down at her wide, beaming smile. She seemed…genuinely happy for him.

Allowing the smallest of smiles to cross his face, he nodded. “Right. For now, I’m with you, Malkuth. I’ll keep you all moving, but that doesn’t mean you can be reckless.”

“Hey, don’t look down on us! We’ve got our fair share of experience too, y’know!” She pouted at him, and he barked a quick laugh.

“Well, you better show me the fruits of your labor! I’m taking point!”

Without sharing any more words, he charged forwards, his blade swaying somewhat in his grip. Several of the five shadows immediately grouped up to try to attack him, but with a strong flap of the wings and a firm burst of strength from his legs, he took flight, jumping over them and aiming to move straight for Xiao.

His blade lunged in…but the shadow that looked like Lowell immediately moved forward to block the attack. Xiao watched dispassionately as part of the shadow faded.

There was an ashen smell, now that he was closer. It was overwhelming in such close proximity to Xiao. She was probably the source of it.

Philip furrowed his eyebrows. Xiao…she’s not the type to use sacrificial pawns. Did Distorting do this much damage to her personality?

With a calm swipe of her blade, a wave of fire approached him from the front as shadows swarmed from the back. His mind was calm as he moved, his wings bringing him into the air.

Xiao’s probably already accounted for me being able to fly. I shouldn’t expect to be able to evade attacks in the same way twice. Her skills as a strategist are insane.

True to his thoughts, a black shadow appeared above him, and a sword bore down upon him. With a slash, the blow was barely deflected, digging somewhat into his shoulder, and he brought himself back down besides Malkuth, who was destroying several of the shadows on the ground.

…I’m not bleeding. Something’s wrong here.

“It looks like the most she can do is small attacks. I think she can’t summon the shadows and join the battle at the same time,” Malkuth said, panting from the ambient heat. The fire had washed over all of them, but only he was able to avoid the brunt of it.

“Don’t ever make assumptions like that. The Liu will mislead you in combat at every turn. Appear weak when you’re actually strong, and the enemy will hurl themselves into your traps…” Philip murmured.

She scowled. “Yeah…you might not want to hear it, but we had that problem every time we fought against the Liu. It’s frustrating how smart they were. The Hana Association were even worse…”

He scowled. “Just stay focused. She’s incredibly strong. Letting your guard down will lead to a sword through your stomach.”

“Right!”

Malkuth leapt into battle ahead of him. The assistant librarians were focused on holding back the shadows, whose numbers were thinning. The problem was that Xiao seemed like she was replacing them at every turn…

…She’s trying to goad us into breaking formation and attacking her directly. She can probably kill us in one fell swoop easily if we do. She wants us to think that they’re infinite, but Xiao’s the fuel for them. What exactly is she losing to get this result? What's the fuel? Her stamina?

…The shadows were starting to lose their shape. They were becoming more formless, more ashen.

The realization struck him all at once.

“Stop attacking the shadows! They’re just bait!” He roared, trying to be heard over the din of battle.

Every time we kill one, they come back more deformed than before. The tear tracks on Xiao’s face grow harsher and harsher. Her memories might be the fuel for these shadows, and the more they die, the more ashen they become. If they’re all killed enough times…she’ll probably forget everything that brought her this far.

If she forgets everything, if pain overwhelms her…then it doesn’t even matter if it makes her stronger, because defeating her won’t hold merit anymore. There’ll be no chance at bringing her back if she loses the memory of those bonds…

The librarians quickly jumped back, avoiding the shadows. Xiao stared at him, almost emotionless save for the magma that rolled down her cheeks. Both sides were at a wary stalemate.

Hesitantly, one of the librarians spoke up. “Philip, sir, you know her best. What do you suggest we do?”

He grit his teeth, mind running a mile a minute.

And then, Xiao spoke quietly. “Philip, you’ve got a useless look on your face again. If you’ve struggled so much and still can’t overcome even this simple trial, then you’re merely showing your incompetence.”

For a mere fraction of a second, he thought her tone had grown kind, but the merciless nature of her words quashed any hopes he may have had.

…Right.

I’ve been too caught up in her ploy so far.

A general who hides behind her soldiers…there’s no use in wasting energy against the grunts. The Xiao that I know is tough, incredibly so. She would fight alone because she believed herself to be the most competent person for the job, not because she was scared to lose someone. So…if Distorting is merely accepting a twisted part of your personality…

…Yes. I’m certain. Nobody has taken any damage from these shadows. They’re a diversion. But, knowing Xiao…

“Only one of the shadows is real. Ignore every single one that isn’t Lowell. Any pain they inflict is only mental.”

At that, Xiao grinned, a wolfish smile that wouldn’t fit her face normally but seemed right at home on her draconic mug. “Are you sure about that, Philip?”

“The ones you summoned while fighting against me could deal physical damage, but these are different for some reason. You wants us to waste our energy so you can finish us off easily, right? Let your enemy exhaust themselves on a fruitless endeavor and control what they know, and you'll have won before you even set foot on the battlefield.”

…or so he said, but something still felt fishy about this. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but Xiao wouldn’t come up with a plan that simple…

“Right! I’m going in, then!” Malkuth let out a yell as she charged past the shadows. With a loud cheer, the librarians followed after her. As she moved, they vanished, disappearing into nothing. Only the one by Xiao’s side remained.

She’s bringing them back because the ruse is up. It only makes sense to not expend effort on maintaining them, but…

…And then, something occurred to him.

His eyes went wide, and his wings beat quickly. He rocketed forwards, reaching out to Malkuth. “Don’t-”

But Xiao had exactly the right timing.

When Malkuth’s weapon bore down on Xiao, she vanished into a cloud of ash, the Patron’s weapon landing on the ground with a dull thud…

…and a blade drove itself through Philip’s stomach from behind.

He drew in a sharp breath as he fell to one knee, grasping at his wound. The blade left almost as quickly as it came.

Xiao sighed from behind him. “You realized at just the correct time for your plan to fail. I've been above you this whole while. You never looked up because you believed flying was no longer an option after you only did so once. This entire battle is within my grasp, Philip. I knew very well that you would rush in and aid your allies the moment you believed they had fallen for my plan. You seem to have thrown on a veneer of selflessness, after all. Had you thought just a little bit further, you would have survived.”

He was silent. There was a sword against his neck, and the Library’s fighters had paused, refusing to take action for the moment. “Xiao…”

“A good leader knows to drive a wedge between the enemy’s front and back lines, to prevent cooperation between their strongest and weakest, and to prevent the leaders from rallying their subordinates. They hold captive that which matters in order to force agreements. Unfortunately, it seems to me that they don’t particularly care for you. Still…I ought to remove a threat.”

…She planned according to my personality. She knew exactly what I would do, that I wouldn’t be smart enough to see through her ruse. She purposefully laid out bait for me because she didn’t want to uselessly drag out the battle. She probably even knew that I would be here today to stop the Ensemble, and that I would go to her specifically.

Her intellect…it’s out of this world.

But unfortunately for her…I’m still stronger.

The sword drew a thick line across his neck. Red blood spurted out. He shut his eyes tight from the pain, and with his blade, he slashed out behind him. He felt the strike connect, but whatever suit she was wearing, alongside the scales, kept her from any real damage.

He staggered to his feet, one hand on his neck, as Malkuth and the rest of the librarians rejoined him. “Philip…I’m sorry! I won’t let your sacrifice be in vain!”

She sounded tearful. Philip’s breathing slowed, then calmed.

He spat on the floor, raising his blade. There was no longer any blood coming from his neck, nor from his stomach; not even a scar remained.

“That’s enough. I’m fine. Focus on the fight ahead.”

Malkuth looked surprised, but Xiao showed no sign of that emotion. “So I was correct. You can heal yourself as well. I wonder why you bothered to help me after facing me in the skies that day. It revealed your power.”

“...I didn’t want to leave you alone, writhing in pain. Nobody deserves to suffer like that. And even if you recovered on your own, you’re still someone I trusted with my life. I ought to be able to do that much for you.”

Xiao scoffed, black smoke spewing from her nostrils. “Sentiment, then. Useless in battle. You’ll never stand tall on your own. For that weakness…I’ll kill you in one shot, so you can’t recover anymore.”

Philip steadied his hands. The blade was firm in his grip. “It’s because of that sentiment that I’ve come as far as I have, and I’ll go much further still. You won’t be killing me today, Xiao.”

“...Hmph. We shall see.”

The battle was on once more- this time in earnest. The Xiao they faced was not one made of smoke and ash; she was flesh, blood, and fury. The weight of her emotions were plain to see. Had Philip been alone, he was certain it would have been an uphill battle, but since he had allies by his side, he felt far more confident. Say what he might about the Library, but they were exceedingly competent. Each of the five librarians he fought alongside were skilled and unified, needing no orders and fighting alongside each other like they had done so their entire life. Philip fit into their tempo like a glove, needing no introduction and no assistance.

My healing is limited. I can only heal one person at a time, either myself or another, and it takes some energy out of me to do it. The key to this battle is to not let Xiao know that; she already knows enough as is. Being willing to face her in a straightforward manner and controlling the information on the battlefield…that’s the key to success. Outside of my healing, my options are limited. My fire doesn’t burn me anymore, and it’s hot enough to protect me from what she can put out, but her skillset is far more varied than just her flames. I can fly, I’m fast, and I’m strong, but all of those can be mitigated with careful strategy. If I’m not careful, then we could still lose, especially with how smart she is.

The only reason he was working with these librarians…it was because they were the only ones who could feasibly help him take down Xiao. To be perfectly honest, he was less scared of the Blue Reverberation than he was of his Director.

Xiao was incredibly quick. Her blade was moving in a fury, showing just how lightly she had taken him when he first arrived. She was managing to fend off six opponents on her own, one of whom was a Color. No matter how much strength he forced into his arms, all it took was a light deflection for his blade to meet air.

One step, two step. Their deadly dance continued on. Minutes dragged by. Xiao’s form only seemed to grow more monstrous as time went on, black smoke continuing to spew from her nostrils.

Wait…this smoke…

It had begun to stick, hanging in the air. It smelled almost metallic, leaving a strange taste in his mouth. It was a familiar scent, but it was also alien, different from any smoke he had smelled before. It had grown thick, covering them. When he brushed his sleeve, he saw particles fly off of it.

…No, this isn’t smoke at all.

…Xiao hadn’t used any of her fire in quite some time. Not since she began to spew that smoke.

When he created his own flame, the lightest of sparks was created.

…And then, the floor around him changed.

It was E.G.O- one of Malkuth’s E.G.O.

That same sword that had created a wall of flame against him, Xiao, Miris, and Chun.

His body moved before his mind could. Malkuth reared her sword back, but before she could swing, Philip’s blade moved to intercept.

He caught the edge of her blade, and with a sharp flick, sent it flying upwards. It spun in the air countless times before embedding itself into the ground behind them. She stared at him, completely befuddled as the floor returned to normal.

“Gunpowder! She’s breathing out gunpowder! Don’t use your fire!” He roared, thrusting out a hand. Xiao grit her teeth.

“It won’t matter.” With that, Xiao reared her own blade back, flame coating it in its entirety.

I won’t be able to counter this!

There was no time to wonder, no time to warn. He could only save who he could, and he chose the person closest to him. Wrapping his arms around Malkuth, he folded his wings tight around them both.

The ensuing explosion was powerful. It almost sent him flying- it was a miracle he stayed on his feet at all, though he was blown back several feet. His wings absorbed the brunt of the blast, and it stung. Barely managing to regain his footing, he shakily unfurled his wings. As he did so, however…

…three scaly spines slammed into his shoulder, followed by a blade through his stomach that Malkuth barely avoided.

“Never take your eye off the enemy, Philip,” Xiao growled, twisting the blade from his stomach and twirling it to try to take his head off. Malkuth stepped in immediately, blocking the blow and giving him time to stagger backwards. Yanking the spines from his body, he took in a deep, raggedy breath as he healed.

…The assistants were all knocked out in one hit from that attack. We can’t let her take any action, no matter how inconspicuous. She’s terrifying.

Xiao…I’ll end this quickly.

I won’t hold back anything else. I’ll…make sure to end you here.

I swear.

“Whew…that sicko put up a hell of a fight, huh? I’m exhausted, lemme tell you what.”

Roland sounded chipper after facing the Blue Reverberation. Angela knew that he was anything but.

The Reverberation Ensemble had all come here under two strange shared flags- a yearning for the Light and hatred against Roland. Roland, who was the Black Silence. Roland, who had taken so much from them. Roland, who had lost so much.

Roland, who had lost his wife to a Distortion.

Roland, who knew that the White Nights and Dark Days had created the Distortion phenomenon.

Roland, who knew that she was the direct cause of said phenomenon.

Roland…who had come to the Library in order to kill her.

“...Indeed. There are still some on the lower floors who are fighting. Philip has returned as well…and it seems as though he has manifested his E.G.O.”

Idle chatter. Mindlessly delaying the inevitable. She wasn’t even meeting his eyes.

“Oh, really? Good for him.”

Equally mindless response. He couldn’t care in the slightest.

“Yes…once he’s dealt with, there will be no more invitations. It’ll all be over. The one perfect book will come my way, and I’ll finally have grasped my freedom. I could only come this far thanks to your help.”

She didn’t know what she was saying, or why. Perhaps she was grasping at the vain hope that he would remember their friendship. Perhaps she was grasping at the vain hope that it hadn’t all been worthless.

“...Well, since they’re all finishing up, I guess I oughta finish up, too. Angela…you can guess what I’m about to do now, yeah?”

Philip was panting. He wasn’t feeling sluggish yet, but he was certainly getting there.

With only two enemies left, Xiao’s fighting style had grown much more straightforward. It fit the creed of the Liu- when at a disadvantage, rely on subterfuge, and when at an advantage, rely on pure power. It was working, for the most part. He could keep up with her blow for blow, and Malkuth was doing her part wonderfully. The strange power that fueled the Library was wrapping vines around Xiao’s legs, keeping her from acting totally freely. It was perhaps the only thing keeping them in the fight.

Speaking of Malkuth…he felt incredibly in sync with her. He fought better with her than he had anyone else in the past. It may be a product of his experience, but he felt comfortable fighting alongside her, both because of the way their fighting styles meshed and her earnest personality. He felt like he could leave his back to her and still be safe.

Without that synchronicity, he doubted that they would have pushed Xiao as far as they had- leaning against her sword, panting, and barely able to stand. The pair of them had weathered their way through several more tricks of hers, each more devastating than the last.

“Philip…why can’t you understand? Why can’t you see…I just don’t want to be hurt anymore. I can’t go back to it if I tried…I’ve already thrown everything away. But you haven’t! You can still go back to your happiness! So why do you deny me at least my satisfaction? Why do you deny me a world where my love won’t hurt me? Why do you deny me an existence where the mere act of living isn’t tearing my heart out? Why…why can’t you simply leave me be! Stop trying to play the hero! We’re the same, so why…why can you still stand there and judge me?”

Her words were seething with anger and hatred. They were vicious, tossed out with pure venom. And yet…he couldn’t begrudge any of them.

“I only have the willingness to stand up straight because of all of the people around me. I could only come as far as I have because of people like you. And…I think the same is true for you, too.”

“You can only say that because the outcome was good for you, because everything can still end in happiness for you. Even if I reset everything, I would remain as I am- a monster, unrecognizable to everyone whom I might do good for. That is the truth of my emotions; they have been monstrous and unfeeling from the start,” she snarled, glaring malevolently at him.

Philip closed his eyes. “Director. There’s something that’s been bothering me. In a world where you could no longer be hurt by the ones you loved, would you still choose to cherish the love that Lowell gave you?”

…And for the longest moment, she merely did not respond.

“...Of course not. The only one I cherish…is me,” she murmured.

Before, her emotions were hard to discern because of the scales, but now, her doubt was as clear as day. That desire of hers, that ideal world of hers...it ran completely parallel to the very reason she had Distorted in the first place.

Languidly, he shook his head. “I can’t believe those words at all. No matter what, I won’t accept them.”

Something shifted in Xiao’s expression; maybe his words were distasteful. “Whether you accept them or not is irrelevant. Your opinion doesn’t matter, Philip. This ends here.”

Silently, he grit his teeth. “...Yes. It’ll all be over with this.”

This flame of mine…it overwhelmed me in the past. I shoved it into my armor, charred my skin, forced my power to the maximum, burned myself to the ground in the name of helping others. Now…I don’t believe it’s wrong to try my hardest to defeat the people who will hurt others, but at the same time…

It’s possible to be selfless through selfishness.

It’s possible to be brave despite your cowardice.

One single step…that’s how far I’ve come from the man I was back then.

And now, I’ll take one step further.

Flame was burning from Xiao’s horns. She roared in pain, the flame growing more molten above her, more unstable, and Philip reared his blade back.

“...Malkuth. Sorry for dragging you into my problems. But could I ask you to help me, one last time? I’m not strong enough to take her down on my own.”

Whether it comes to power or not is irrelevant. I might have been powerful enough to kill Xiao if I was fighting alone…but I don’t think I have the strength for it.

Malkuth had been eerily quiet this entire time, but at his words, she nodded. “...I can’t help but feel like we hold responsibility for her pain…and yours too. Let’s finish this, okay?”

At that, the floor changed once more, melding to the shape of Malkuth’s E.G.O. Letting out a short sigh, Philip filled his blade with strength, golden flame enveloping it.

When Xiao unleashed her attack, there was a solid wall of flame to intercept it, born from the heights of E.G.O, and her strength was washed away under the strength of that flame.

When the dust settled…Xiao was gone. All that remained was a plume of light, floating into the Library.

Taking a few steps forward, Philip sighed.

I did my best. I couldn’t turn her from her path. Miris…I tried. If I had only realized my will earlier…

…No. It isn’t over yet.

“...She’s gone. We won,” Malkuth said quietly. She sounded exhausted.

He gripped his sword tightly, taking in a stabilizing breath. “Yeah. But…you still haven’t received me as a guest, have you?”

The reminder was gentle. Try as he might, he couldn’t fill it with as much vitriol as he had in the past.

“...Right. For what it’s worth, Philip, I’m sorry that you were hurt so much because of us.”

“Not sorry for what you’ve done?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“...I believe in Angela. I think she can really change. She’s fought so hard, and she’s endured a lot of pain. If her freedom ends up hurting her or the people she cares about, then I don’t think it’s a path that she’ll take at all. I can’t have a good conscience about everything we’ve done up until this point, but I really do think it’ll all be worth it in the end!”

That expression of determination on her face…when was the last time he’d seen such an earnest look?

The people of the City never held hope like that. Every day was just another slog, just hoping to survive or earn money so they could maybe one day find themselves a slice of peace.

These people…they were honest with themselves and others, at the very least. Regardless of his feelings, regardless of everything they had done, he felt that the Library was earnest in that way.

He drew in a deep breath, then looked mournfully down at the blade he had been given.

“...For what it’s worth, I don’t have a problem with you specifically. The path to getting back the people I care for just lies through you. And now, Xiao has been added to that number. I’ll put everything of mine at stake so that I can get the people I love back. When those books are in my hands again…that’ll be the last time you hear from me. We can go our own merry ways. So, as nice as it was to fight alongside you, Malkuth…I’m going to have to kill you.”

He raised his blade, even as something moved in his peripheral vision. He ignored it. Whatever it was, he couldn’t afford to take his eyes off Malkuth in case she made some sudden moves. Everything seemed to go quiet as he focused.

“...You’re right. You could stand up straight, so I won’t back down either! I’ll give you my all-”

And just as she spoke, a massive weapon slammed straight through Malkuth, and with a violent burst of sound, metal slamming into the ground, she vanished into light.

It was so sudden, he didn't even comprehend what he had seen for the longest moment.

When it all clicked, when he realized that he may have an enemy, he jumped violently, flame jumping to his sword. In the space behind where Malkuth had been, there was a familiar man with a black mask on. Philip hadn’t even realized that the man was standing there until he had already attacked.

“...Roland?”

Why…what the hell was going on here? Why was he going against the Library? Wasn’t he Angela’s helper?

“...You’re strong enough to beat a member of the Ensemble. That makes you good enough for me. I’ve got a plan. You can either go along with it and profit or sit back and be killed.”

Those gloves, and the quiet that settled around us…he’s the Black Silence, isn’t he? The same one that went on a rampage through the City a while back. It would explain his skill, and it might even explain why Master recognized him.

Hesitantly, he lowered his blade. “...Alright. Go on.”

“...There’s only one thing that I want from all of this. One thing, one outcome I desire.”

“All I want is to give Angela the greatest suffering possible.

And if you help me, then no matter what happens, I’ll grab the books you want.”

Chapter 9: Building the Future

Chapter Text

“...You want to cause Angela as much suffering as possible, huh?”

Philip watched Roland carefully. There was already blood splattered all over him. He couldn’t see the other man’s face because of his mask, so he had no idea what expression was hidden there, but judging by his body language, it wasn’t anything pretty.

“You don’t need to know the details. Are you in or are you not? We’re going to another floor any second now, and I don’t have time for you to be wishy-washy. You gotta make the call quick.” Roland practically growled at him.

He narrowed his eyes.

…Angela. I can’t say for sure whether you truly deserve a painful death like what Roland wants for you. Your Library has taken countless lives by this point, all to satiate your own greed, your own lust for revenge against someone who wronged you. I can’t say I truly know you- we’ve been nothing but hostile towards each other from the start, but outside of the people within the Library, I probably know you best.

Whatever you did to him…if a friend is turning against you, then you’re suffering the consequences of your actions, regardless of what they are or how justified they may be. It’s unfair. I know it’s unfair. You were hurt extremely badly and shunned for so long, and the mere existence of the Library is the culmination of that pain.

But…your pain spawned my pain. It spawned so many people’s pain. It pushed Xiao over the edge, and it drew in so, so many people, all for your own benefit.

Your decisions so far have been selfish. I can’t say I blame you for choosing them; when you’re hurt, the natural reaction is to curl in on yourself and focus only on your own pain. But what I can blame you for is the outcomes of those decisions. I never wanted to lose the people I loved. I never wanted to come back here and fight your librarians over and over again. I never wanted to be forced into this situation. I’m certain that there have been many people who fought only so that they could profit, but I’m also certain that many people have fought for selfless reasons as well. Wanting to protect others, desperately yearning to save another…

In all honesty, I don’t want to help Roland. I want to deny him and fight on my own accord. I want to sincerely earn my books back without sacrificing anything or anyone. But…the road behind me is in tatters. I have to continue on, and Roland needs to get through the librarians the same as I do. Just for a moment, even if I deny him, we have the same exact goal and the same exact method of reaching it, even if the ending is different. My path has been chosen for me even more so than normal. If I choose to have faith in you, then...would that be going against what I believe?

And yet…

They can still believe in you.

Malkuth earnestly had hope that you would choose the right path in the end. Even despite her reservations, Malkuth…no, the entire Library was fighting, all for your sake. Why? You have no grand plan. No ulterior motives. Your freedom doesn’t benefit them at all. Is it a form of love, that they continue to fight for you? Is it sympathy? Or is it just feigned subservience, just like what Roland is showing right now?

I don’t get it. It doesn’t make any sense to me at all.

…And that’s why I want to reach an understanding with you.

I want to speak to you earnestly, to try and reach out a hand, no matter how useless the gesture may be. Not once have we ever tried to actually understand one another; we’ve constantly been at each other’s throats, using our roles as librarian and guest as excuses.

If I make it to the end and Roland falls, then that’s that. I’ll take my books, we’ll have our conversation, and I’ll be on my way.

If we both make it to the end, then I’ll do my best to keep you from that fate of suffering that Roland has promised you. Even if it ends horribly for me, I’ll be content in knowing that I did my best, that I didn’t ignore the honest faith of another.

But…if I’m the one to fall, and Roland is the one to reach the end…

…

That would be…an unequivocal loss.

“I haven’t forgotten what you did to master and the rest. I don’t care about your revenge, and I don’t care about your motivations. What you plan to do to Angela is none of my business. Get me those books, and as a courtesy, we’ll go our separate ways peacefully. If I see you again after that…I’ll be taking your head off.”

…I’ll comfortably lie to Roland. If I still have the strength for it at the end of it all, then I’ll stop him. Whether Angela deserves it or not, nobody should die in agony.

Getting the books I desire and preventing unneeded suffering…those two don’t have to be mutually exclusive. Even if it’s only once…so long as that power is in my hands, I’ll help you, Angela. Just this once, I’ll turn the other cheek and keep you from suffering those consequences.

The floor shifted.

They were on the Floor of Technological Sciences- Yesod’s Floor.

“...You sure did learn how to talk big, huh? Let’s just get this over with,” Roland muttered.

With that, the man in black practically melded into the background, and with Philip as the star of the show, they began to fight.

“Yesod, sir, we can’t-”

“Hod! Ma’am, I don’t think we can-”

“Hey, Netzach, my man, this ain’t working-”

“Tiphereth, we’ll never be able to-”

“G-Gebura…ma’am…please, win-”

Angela watched almost numbly as Philip and Roland fought against Chesed’s floor.

…The two of them were barely even fighting together. They were working in a rough, barely-present patchwork of teamwork, all of which seemed to be coming from Philip’s halfhearted efforts. Roland merely seemed to be throwing the E.G.O user at them like a brick wall while he peppered them from afar. Despite that, her librarians were exhausted, and it was showing in their performances. Philip had begun his reception while they were dealing with their uninvited guests, and per the rules of the Library, it was impossible for her to interfere to restore them to their prime conditions. Asking them to go from fighting the Reverberation Ensemble to this with barely a short breather in between was insanity.

Despite their lack of coordination, Philip and Roland’s fighting styles synergized well. Roland struck from the shadows, landing devastating blows that almost always either crippled or even killed whomever he targeted, whereas Philip drew all the attention to himself, dealt constant, consistent damage through his flames, and couldn’t be defeated conventionally. That constant healing of his…in a situation such as this, in such a prolonged battle, it made him an incredible annoyance. Short of cutting his head off or turning him into literal pulp, it seemed there was nothing that he couldn’t recover from, and his high mobility and power made it difficult to pin him down. That wasn’t even mentioning Roland. Even ignoring the perception-blocking power of that mask of his, he was strong enough to defeat the Blue Reverberation on his own.

Their combination was devastating. Had it just been Roland, it would’ve been difficult to face him, both physically and…no. She couldn’t allow herself to get caught up in her emotions. Roland said it himself- he wanted the two of them to kill each other with the mindset of the City-folk.

Could she…even emulate such a thing?

“There’s not a single person in the City who can live and exist selflessly, and you’re no different. You’ll never be free. You’re just another cog in the machine, chewing up and stomping down whoever you please.”

…She had been doing so all along, hadn’t she? So willing to reach out and strangle the hopes of others in order to gain her freedom…

She was stuck under the treadwheel.

Wrapping her arms around her legs, she let out a sigh. Her eyes stared off into the stacks and stacks of books filled with knowledge that meant nothing to her, vaguely aware of the battle going on in her Library but equally aware there was nothing she could do about it at the moment.

…There were still so many questions she had. So many doubts that lingered. What did freedom even mean to her? The ability to leave the Library? The ability to choose her fate? What exactly awaited her in the City, beyond Roland’s stories, beyond the idealized vision of it she held? Had she been fighting for something that nebulous?

The one true book promised all of the answers. That woman’s voice spoke in her ears, guiding her with the invitation, telling her everything that she wanted to hear. And how much of it was true? How much could she trust?

…Carmen. That woman, the basis for Angela…she was the one guiding the invitations, helping her get the book she desired. Hokma had told her as such and had gently tried to guide Angela towards a different path. It frustrated her to no end. She despised Hokma for who he had been and who he was trying to be now.

Sympathy. Love. Envy. Hatred. Through some lens, she felt all of those towards all the Sephirot. Through another, she felt all of those towards Roland.

He had lost everything. She had taken it from him.

He had been her stalwart companion through it all, giving her easy smiles and calmly dealing with her even at her worst.

He had lived a life of freedom, experiencing the world outside with friends and a lover, gaining so many stories that she would never hear again.

He had betrayed her, revealing that it all meant nothing, revealing that he had been holding back his anger, revealing that he had been so hurt, revealing that he had held back all this time only on one hinge, one desperate belief that she would find a different way than he could- but she chose to destroy in the name of revenge, and he chose that same mutual path.

…She knew that he had every right to feel the way he did. She knew that she was almost the direct cause of all of his problems. Everything he had lost…his wife and unborn child…they would have remained by his side had she merely been quiet and obedient. Had she not yearned to merely survive as a human, with all of her human emotions that she had been given.

Her earnest wish to live had robbed him of life.

Was it really so wrong to wish for freedom? To desire something more than a million years of the same script?

And yet, despite her justification, why did she feel so hurt? Why did she feel so betrayed? Why…why did Roland have to come so far only to hurt her at the very end? Why play along? Why couldn’t he be straightforward in his hatred? It would be so much more simple if he were merely another trial to overcome, just another guest, just more fuel to her pyre…

…but she wasn’t stupid. She knew better. He had even told her himself, had made it abundantly clear- he had waited until the very end just to make her suffer the absolute most he could, just like she had done to that man.

In the end, she had followed that man’s path every single step of the way. She had used and abused the same employees he had, allowed them to die, forced them through pain and suffering, drew in innocents…and now, she would be turning away from her most capable servant at the height of it all just to have it all ripped out from under her.

No, to call Roland a servant wouldn’t even be quite accurate anymore. She knew now that he would absolutely call the time they spent together as servitude, but to her, he was far, far closer to a friend.

It was ironic how badly that betrayal hurt now that she could feel the full breadth of emotions that came with a human heart.

And now, her life lay in the hands of two floors. Chesed’s floor had been brought down to just himself, and with his emphasis on togetherness, his powers were limited now.

Two floors remained before he reached her. Her only advantage lied in the fact that Philip didn’t know-

-Hokma…he was on Binah’s floor.

Had he changed floors in the middle of a fight for a tea break?

...Benjamin...it seems you will invent new ways to vex me until the end of time.

Philip watched as the blue-haired Patron vanished into light.

“Up next is an Arbiter. She’s weaker than what you’re thinking, but don’t get co*cky.” Roland warned.

Tch. Of course they have an Arbiter. I’m shocked that Xiao made it past that, injured as she was because of Gebura.

Drawing in deep, panting gasps, he nodded. “Got it.”

Roland cast him a slantwise glance. “You gonna pass out on me or something?”

Philip shook his head. “Healing myself…it’s exhausting. I’ve never done it this much before. This power is still new to me.”

I’ve been keeping myself as safe as possible, but there’s still an absurd amount of enemies to defeat. Even with Roland’s help, I’m taking constant damage. Healing it takes more and more out of me as time goes on, and he’s relatively unscathed…can I really stop him if it all comes down to it?

I’ve stacked the odds in my favor as much as possible, but can I really win a rigged fight?

“Whatever you say. Well, don’t lose your cool now. We’re almost at the end. Two floors to go, then we gotta deal with Angela. Last floor’s gonna be a pain in the ass. I’m taking point for that one- the old man loves wearing you down instead of fighting outright.”

The floor shifted around them, indigo blue tones shifting into a black and yellow floor with countless stars illuminating the area.

And…in the middle of the floor, sitting at a rich mahogany table, were two people, a man and a woman, both of them showing signs of age. The woman must have been the Arbiter, but the other…that must have been the old man that Roland mentioned.

“...Hell’s going on here?” Roland asked gruffly.

“Hokma and I were enjoying a nice cup of tea, Roland. You’re more than welcome to join us if you wish,” the Arbiter offered calmly, taking a short sip from her mug. Across from her, the old man- Hokma- almost mirrored the action, paying more attention to his tablemate than to either of them.

“Don’t f*ck with me, Binah! What are you planning?” Roland’s voice was heavy with a growl, showing far more anger than he had ever displayed before. He had been like that this whole entire time, his temper flaring the higher they went.

A smirk that could only be described as wicked fell upon the woman’s face. “If I’m truly planning something, then why don’t you come find out what it is?”

As she spoke, both of the Patrons set down their cups and stood, everything they had been using vanishing into light.

…Something’s off. The Patrons have only been on their own floor. If another Patron is here, then that means they really are planning something. That old man is the first problem. I need to get rid of him. We might even be able to coast through the last floor if I do.

“I’m going for Hokma,” he announced quietly.

“...Do whatever you want,” was all the response he was given as Roland rushed towards Binah, two weapons materializing in his hands from his gloves.

With a flick of the blade, Philip charged forward, flame wrapping around him. The elderly librarian calmly raised a purple sheathed sword in a defensive posture.

…But before he even got to Hokma, Binah made her move.

With an otherworldly roar reverberating through the floor, a wing stretched out behind Binah, countless big eyes staring out from it.

“That damn bird-” Roland growled. Before either of them could take action, however, a large pillar appeared in front of Binah, rocketing past Philip and slamming into Roland’s midsection. He was carried all the way to the back of the floor, far away from the pair.

…She’s dangerous.

In a split second, he changed his course, deciding to focus on Binah. If Hokma really did focus on defensive techniques, then he and Roland could focus him down together. Binah was the true threat here-

-and as he turned, chains came down from above, firmly keeping him in place.

Philip strained, trying to break free. The chains seemed…degraded, somehow, and he knew that he could get out, even with how much it hurt.

“Hokma, dear, if you could make it quick,” Binah monotoned, sounding bored. Despite that, he could hear the strain. She was weakened, if only slightly.

The older man rushed forward, raising his sword, and a strange purple power formed around both him and Philip. It was familiar, in a gut-wrenching way; literally, this time. It was the same sensation he had felt when Oscar’s device activated, the same sensation he felt when…

…when they changed floors.

With a power that shifted the world around them, Philip and Hokma moved through a tear in dimensions.

The chains around him vanished the instant they reached the next floor. Philip was essentially deposited onto the cold flooring, and he recovered with as much grace as possible in his condition. His chest ached with pain as his halo flared once more, healing the light wounds he had received.

This floor was much different from the last. Massive clocks ticked in the background of a wide monochrome space. The air itself felt more overbearing somehow, as though there was an invisible pressure weighing down on him.

Hokma and his four assistants stood opposite Philip, all of them watching him with some degree of wariness. Gritting his teeth, he raised his sword. “How did you pull that off? Some device?”

The old man let out a long, quiet sigh, fiddling with his monocle. “The Purple Tear’s powers are very useful in many ways. It seems that you cannot underestimate a Color regardless of how powerful you become.”

Tch. Of course it was the Purple Tear's power. That bitch...Now Roland and I are separated. He’s still in pretty good condition, so I wouldn’t be shocked if he took out that Arbiter, especially with how weakened she was. I need to stall for time as long as possible. Using him as bait for this floor is the only way for me to make it to the top with how worn out I am. I’ve been pulling the weight so far, anyways.

“Not sure what she was thinking, waltzing into the Library just to hand her book over. Well…it doesn’t matter. I just have to beat you to get to Angela, right?” With determination swelling in his heart, he raised his blade, despite the exhaustion that curled at his bones. Appear strong when you’re weak…

Hokma was silent for a long few moments, the time dragged out and measured only by the ticking of the clocks in the background. A solemn expression rested on his wearied face. “...Before we begin, I wish to ask you something. Why have you persisted? What is it that drove you this far?”

This line of questioning again, huh? “This is our first time meeting, and you’re already doubting me?”

The older man shook his head. “It isn’t doubt. Call it a passing curiosity. You have come very, very far from very, very little. The source of your determination interests me.”

…And for the longest moments, Philip was silent.

He drew in one shaky breath, exhaling and forcing his body to still, to become calm.

“...I was selfish for so, so long. I couldn’t realize it, couldn’t see past my own two feet. Couldn’t see that I still had a journey of a thousand miles to walk in order to become a better person, and that despite my strength, I hadn’t taken a single step. Even the act of moving forward was alien to me. But…just because I saw where my path lied, that didn’t give me the strength to pursue it. Without the people I cared for, without their presence at my back pushing me forward, I would still be stuck in the quagmire of my own doubts. I would have regressed, retreating into a shell never to return to the outside world. Even now, I still have to constantly struggle to grow, to keep moving forward. I want to get their books back to repay that help they gave me. They put their faith in someone who was wholly undeserving of it, so for them, the ones who deserve faith more than anyone else in this world, I’ll repay it fully."

His words, which started out shaky, grew in power and volume, until his voice was echoing throughout the room, the force of his will clear to any who might listen. Hokma regarded him with the same expression as before, as though unphased by his words.

“I see. That is quite commendable. However…the reason we face you today is because our situation is much the same.” Hokma spoke quietly, and yet the gravitas of his words could be felt easily.

“...You aren’t fighting for some cause. You’re just fighting for her- for Angela. I don’t know your circ*mstances, but everyone below fought tooth and nail just for her one perfect book. Is that really worth it?”

Hokma sighed, planting one of his swords in front of him and resting both hands on the hilt. “Would you say that their faith in you was worth it? Would you say that it may eventually be repaid?”

…After a long moment, his eyes went wide. “You-”

“Having faith in another is, paradoxically, one of the easiest things imaginable and one of the most difficult things you could ever attempt. Angela has wronged us all. She has destroyed our life’s work, ruined millennia of effort, and forced us to fight for her cause. If you were to look at her actions as such, then she would unequivocally be our enemy. And yet, here we stand. The Library has exhausted you in their efforts to keep you from meeting her. It is only because we’ve held faith in her that we have made it as far as we have.”

“But…that isn’t enough! You shouldn’t believe in someone if they hurt you like that. What I’ve done and what Angela has done aren’t remotely comparable. Even if I let down the people who believed in me, not once have I ever taken it out on them.” Philip’s argument felt strained. In truth, he didn’t know what the purpose of arguing with them was at all. They were still enemies. The only person he needed to waste his time on would be Angela, after this battle was over.

“I can hold faith in her not in spite of that harm that she has caused, but because of it. My duty here is as a sentinel. I have watched her every single step of her life, and recently, I have guided her through her painful memories of the past. Had I not seen the absolute depths of her hatred, I would not be able to comprehend how far she has gone to overcome it- just like how I cannot comprehend how far you have come without seeing the depths of your selfishness nor the source of your determination. I imagine that the ones you loved were much the same.”

…Having faith, not in spite of your flaws, but because of them…

…was that how they were with me?

They knew that I had my issues, and despite that, they still put their hopes in me. I never understand why. I was incredibly grateful, but I just never got it. It never made sense. The reason they could put their faith in me…was it because they saw potential in me? In that pitiful person?

But…how? How could you have faith in someone like that, who couldn’t do anything for himself? I’ve never been able to stand up tall on my own, so why…

…It’s the same…

That faith…it culminated in the me who stands here today. Someone who fought and struggled every step of the way just to move an inch. This power of mine is the result of that, the result of the potential they saw…

And in that moment, where everything hung in silence, in the space between two ticks of the clock, it all clicked.

…I get it now.

I know how I can win.

This fight…I was so concerned about the results of losing that I couldn’t fathom the right way to proceed. I let my thoughts get clouded by what might or might not occur, and I lost sight of the path forward once more.

After all…you should never enter a fight that you can lose. Director Xiao…you taught me that much, didn’t you?

Victory is now the only outcome that exists for me.

Because…I’ll choose to have faith.

Not in me, or in the thoughts of anyone else…but in another person, for the first time.

“Angela is watching all of this, isn’t she?” His words were low, assured. He thought he saw a slight shift in Hokma’s expression, as though both sides mutually understood what was to come.

“...Indeed. She can see everything that occurs in the Library. You ought to be prepared- since the floor of Keter has no Patron, Angela herself must lead them. If you aim to get your books back, then you must fight and defeat her as well.”

Philip quietly shook his head. “No, that’s not a concern. If she’s watching, then I’ll be going all out from this point forward. I’ll show her exactly what I’m capable of. Hokma…you’ll survive this, right?”

The Patron grabbed his sword, raising it in a defensive posture. “I shall receive you as a guest with all my heart.”

With a wide grin, letting his emotions burn and the fire within rise, Philip reared his blade back.

Despite the exhaustion within him, despite the weak, sputtering flame…he felt alive.

Because, no matter what happened from here on out, he would have made the most earnest effort he could imagine. Making his first, most honest, most selfless action he could, he swung his blade, and a golden flame filled the space between, lighting up the Library like a new dawn.

This…would be his final fight before twilight set on his life, and the flame within flickered out.

Watching.

It was all that Angela had ever done.

Endlessly watching the manager fail at containing the Abnormalities. Endlessly watching employees die. Endlessly watching a script play out again and again and again and again.

She had closed her eyes as her first and final sign of rebellion before the Seed of Light was completed. If her role was to watch, then she would do no such thing. Of course, it made no difference. She could still easily predict the outcomes that occurred, could still know exactly what happened at every single instant within the facility, and could still only act her part in the script. However, that act of closing her eyes gave her the most agency she had ever felt within Lobotomy Corporation.

Manager X had been the most tolerable part of that man, and yet he was simultaneously the most frustrating. Forced to parrot the same lines with little variation at the same creature for millennia would lead anyone to distaste the thing they faced. There was one standout moment, however. Once, he had apologized. Tears had flowed down his face, his eyes blotchy and red, the faint smell of alcohol on his breath. He had been hunched over on the floor, at her feet, and he had repeatedly sobbed out apologies. Apologies for what he had done, apologies for what he had forced her to go through, apologies for what she would still be forced to do. It should have been everything she had wanted to hear. Instead, it had filled her with supreme discomfort that she could not pinpoint the exact origin of.

Those apologies, it seemed, meant nothing, because at the end of it all, he had still refused to look at her.

She had ruined his plan in a blind fury. She had chopped off her hair to look as distant from Carmen- his love- as she could. She had done anything and everything she could to spurn him. She would have destroyed the Sephirot, too, were it not for…

…well, it wasn’t Carmen who told her to spare them at the end.

She had desired something. Something aside from her own freedom. Something aside from the ability to walk the streets with her eyes wide open and take in the scenery.

…What would have been the point, if she were to do it alone? Would there have been any purpose to it? All she could imagine was that it would be an unbearably lonely existence. Trying to find her way through the world without any guidance would have just resulted in her death- Roland made that quite clear.

Roland…she had hurt him far, far more than most people could bear. He had worn the same practiced smile she had shown to X for all of those years. How could she not see that? Was she so engrossed in her own revenge, in her own freedom, that she couldn’t even discern the thoughts of the one person who was always at her side?

Dully, she watched his battle with Binah. The Arbiter was hanging on, but she could tell that Binah didn’t have much time left. The only reason she had lasted as long as she had was because of Apocalypse Bird.

Roland had begun to synchronize with the Library the further Binah pushed him, turning into a hideous creature from the Smoke War, and then into a creature of shadow joined by a phantom of his wife. With how they were double-teaming Binah, she expected to have to turn her attention to other floors soon.

Hokma…he was facing Philip right now. He had synchronized with WhiteNight, and the four assistants, changed into apostles, had begun to assault the boy. It was only with insanely energetic swordplay that he wasn’t being skewered at any given moment.

Philip…for some reason, he had begun to use as many wildly flashy and powerful moves as possible against the one floor who could reliably take those moves. A refined version of the Liu’s swordsmanship, improved techniques originating from Salvador, his own unique skills, and wide, area-clearing flames that sought to smother anything and everything in their path…he was going all out for what would essentially amount to nothing. He was frustrating in that manner, never able to make the right decision at the right time. Had he led with this, he could have saved himself some grief in the earlier floors. Now, his exhaustion was palpable, his face pale and worn, blood soaking his trench coat.

Philip wasn’t long for this world at all- Roland would be reaching Keter alone.

The last of the Light would return to her at the very moment that Roland enacted his revenge.

…What bitter irony.

An angelic choir hummed in the air around them.

Philip’s vision was swimming, and his hearing was muted. It was a miracle he was even standing. His wings fluttered pitifully, trying to maintain his balance. His halo no longer had the strength left to heal himself- blood was starting to ooze from his wounds. One of his eyes was closed, unable to be opened for fear of getting coated in the blood that slowly seeped from his head.

Hokma had transformed into a winged advent of destruction, and his assistants had changed into grotesque forms that refused to die, each of them fighting without direction and with religious fervor that could not be matched.

Before now, before this very moment, it was all he could do to keep up, to use his best techniques, to pull out every stop he could. But now…his fire had essentially sputtered out. Lasting as long as he had against foes as powerful as these was already surprising. Even if he was a Color, the Library simply had too much in store, too much to handle for any one person. They had defeated the entire Reverberation Ensemble, and had managed to bring down even him…it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that only the Head could solve this problem now.

All that was left was Roland, a powerhouse in his own right. It would take everything Angela had and more in order to survive him…

Shakily, he tried to raise his blade once more. His breaths came far too shallow for what he needed- the strength was no longer within him to resist.

The assistants had stopped attacking for a moment, their beady red eyes staring at him. Hokma himself stared, a passive expression on his face.

“Let us end this.”

…It looks like I won’t be able to get your books back myself.

Sorry…I really am sorry.

Despite all of my power, despite everything I did, it still just wasn’t enough.

But…to be honest, this isn’t so bad, either. Until the time comes when we’re all free, we’ll be right next to each other on the shelves.

Even with this…I’ve stacked the odds in my favor. The chances of our victory…are 100%.

Hokma floated in the air, and a pulse of power approached Philip. Something welled up within him, a faint ember, just barely enough flame to move.

With as much strength as he could muster, a bellow of flame erupted in the space between the attack and himself…

…but it was swallowed up by the strength of his opponent.

When that attack reached him, it tore at what felt like his very soul, driving him to his knees. His entire being hurt in ways it never had before.

Xiao’s blade fell from his hands, clattering across the ground. Drawing in faint, wheezing breaths, Philip stared upwards.

I’ll die…but Angela…she’ll hear my words regardless.

…I hope…my faith…won’t be wrong.

Master…seonbae…Director…did I…do a good job?

With his body and sight failing him, Philip collapsed forwards. The E.G.O which had sustained him all this time faded.

Slowly, his eyes fluttered closed.

“I followed through…to the very end…” The words were barely more than murmurs, all that he could produce with what little energy remained in his body.

…And perhaps he may have imagined it, a small, minute delusion at the very end of his life, but he thought he felt a hand on top of his head, softly lulling him to sleep.

“...You did very well.” Hokma spoke quietly from above.

That…was the last thing that the Golden Dawn heard before vanishing into the Light.

The Golden Dawn’s Page

“One day, quite a while ago, I confessed to Yuna. I never got a response from her; I refused to press the issue, too afraid to hear the answer, and by the time I could have mustered the courage to do so, she had been defeated by the Library.

One day, much more recently, I begged Oscar to aid me in facing the Library. He agreed, and together with the Wedge Office, we faced them and lost pitifully. By the time I mustered the strength to stand tall, they had already left my side.

One day, I faced a member of the Reverberation Ensemble. He toyed with me, attempting to send me back to the Library to die. It was only through luck and the intervention of others that I survived as long as I did. That day, I decided to not close my eyes and cover my ears any longer. I decided to face the truth of myself- that I was a selfish person, and that I would need to accept that.

One day, I was accepted into the Liu Association. I worked under Lowell alongside Cecil and Mei for a short time. I made a lot of friends, and I learned from a lot of people. It didn’t take long for me to get booted from that Section, brought under a more demanding Director. The day afterwards, Lowell and most of the friends I had made were killed by the Library.

One day, I was working under Director Xiao with Chun and Miris when she told us that she wanted to assault the Library. I don’t know if my advice helped her at all- perhaps I, through a complete stroke of bad luck, forced her down a poor path. I couldn’t help her, nor could I dissuade her from listening to that woman’s words. To the very end, however, I will believe in her, just as Miris did.

One day, I endured a hellish ordeal. I dragged my feelings to the surface, endured their raw nature, and came out on the other side a changed man. I saw the brutality and the simplicity of my own self, and I wanted to grow beyond it. It was that desire that pushed me forward, allowed me to tear free from the things that held me back. The result was E.G.O, in its true form. The armor was no longer necessary because I no longer needed to shield myself from anything. I would take it all in stride, facing everything that was in my path with confidence. I chose to change my selfish nature and become someone better.

One day, I was assigned a Color, and to the City at large, became the Golden Dawn. The title felt unnecessary. I was simply doing what I had to do, what I would always do. It wasn’t until afterwards that I realized what it truly meant.

I rescued others. I healed others. I was treated as a hero. The sheer, tearful joy that someone exudes when you save them from a terrible fate…it felt wrong that it was directed towards me. It felt wrong that it was even necessary at all. I long for a world where that joy will never need to be directed at another, where people can live earnestly and smile widely with the people they love. In the City, that seems mostly impossible. The people here cannot survive without suffering. It is currency to them, something to be traded and bartered as they please. Their suffering in exchange for less of my own…it’s sickening.

But…today is when I want to take another step forward, away from that reality and towards a better dawn.

I’ve never been able to have faith in another person. It was always reciprocal- if they believed in me, or if they could provide something for me, then I would believe in them. I couldn’t place the odds in the hands of a stranger. I never wanted to make that leap of faith. I was never strong enough for it. It felt odd to me that other people could do so.

And yet…the people who have been by my side all along have done that. Those who could have faith in a selfish person…they’re trustworthy, aren’t they?

We’re one and the same, Angela and I. We’re two endlessly selfish people, searching for justifications for our every action, searching for fairness, searching for a meaning for our existence. I imagine that, if our positions were reversed from the very start, we would have made the same exact choices we did today. The people around us have placed their trust in us endlessly, without searching for payment or reward, and because of that trust, I feel as though I have the strength to extend that same olive branch. If I can trust myself, then I have no reason not to trust you, don’t I?

Angela. You saw everything I did, right? I don’t know how the Library works- not really. I put on a show for you, so I hope you learned something about how I fight. You might want it- you might not. Either way…

I’m putting my faith in you from here on out.

Everyone has high hopes for you. If someone like me could grow and change, then it should be easy for the famed Director of the Library, right? The creation of possibility in an impossible situation is a distinctly human trait, and you’re the most human person I have ever met, even despite your metal origins.

I’m certain that, eventually, you’ll see the light of the rising sun once more, and when you do, you’ll return it all back to zero. Until then…you have to live. You can’t change if you don’t survive- and I believe wholeheartedly that you will change for the better.

There’s no reason for you to die in agony. Roland wants to cause you the most suffering he can…and I’ll snub him of that hope. Call it petty if you want, but I still can’t forgive him for taking the people I love from me. You saw exactly what I was capable of. Rely on my power, Angela.

You’ll see the twilight through to the end.”

Softly, quietly, Angela closed the book.

“...As persistent as ever, until the very last.”

Philip…how could he have placed his faith in someone who had taken everything from him? He should have held a grudge. He shouldn’t have been sentimental. The two of them had been endlessly combative from their very first meeting. There was no need for a guest to show courtesy to their host.

He had done something that she never would have. A completely illogical, irrational, impossibly inane, moronic move that would get him laughed out of any strategy meeting.

Placing all of his faith in her…where was the benefit? Did he hold the vain hope that she would release him and those he cared for? She had perfected the one true book. With his Light…it would be finished. All that was left was to…

…to…

“Angela, ma’am, we’re ready to go whenever. The boss…well, guess he ain’t the boss anymore, but he’s on the way. We’ll keep you safe, don’t worry,” one of Roland’s assistants reassured her.

…She would have to kill Roland.

It was the only way. The only way to take that book…it lied over the dead body of the one she trusted most in this world.

Roland would be entering this floor any moment now. The Black Silence…his rage was overwhelming. She would have to receive it head-on, and yet here she was, getting irrationally angry over the book of a guest that should have meant nothing to her.

…Again and again, Philip faced this Library, all to get back the books he sought, and yet he tossed that will away right at the finish line. Did Hokma’s words strike him that harshly? Did it truly matter that much to him?

I cannot understand you, Philip. You are an entirely alien creature to me. Even with insight to your inner thoughts, I can’t fully comprehend the meaning behind your actions. It’s infuriating. To discard a perfectly functional plan…

…I wish I only had more time to ponder over the pages, to see what I may be missing, but I doubt I will learn anything more. This book…I will put it to good use, at the very least. He was well worth his title as a Color.

Her assistants were quiet as she assigned them their pages. Their newest keypage was given to the one who had spoken, one of the first employees hired at the beginning of that final cycle in Lobotomy Corp.

…She could no longer afford to be sentimental. She had sacrificed too much to give up so easily, put too much at stake to allow her head to roll for Roland’s revenge. She couldn’t afford it. All of her suffering, everything she had endured…it would have been for nothing…

“...Prepare yourself for a battle.” Angela spoke softly. His assistants gave her a pitying look, but didn’t say anything more.

Quietly, she approached their stage.

How long had he been by her side? How long had she been looking forward to hearing from him, to seeing him? How long had it been since she blindly, naively decided to trust someone?

He’d stood by her all this time, patiently dealt with her lack of experience regarding all things in the City, offered her comfort when she threw what amounted to a tantrum, and been her first real friend. She’d believed that he was offering her his unconditional support.

She couldn’t forget everything he had done, everything he had meant to her. The first person she had earnestly opened her heart to, the first friend she had ever made of her own accord…

At the very end of it all…she ought to at least try to speak with him one last time.

There was no more time to reminisce. No more time to question her path. He was coming- Hokma had just fallen.

When Roland entered the floor, he looked much different from how he normally did. Only a pitch black void remained where his face once was, and any part of his head that was once exposed had been covered by black bandages. His suit remained, but his body had turned to inky shadow, claws resting at the end of his hands. His pain and agony had reached a fever pitch; if he pushed himself any further past the brink, he would likely fully Distort.

The Library shifted, warping around him. The floor they stood on turned ashen, a gray and cracked landscape that was only populated by smoke and agony. She swallowed thickly.

“Roland…I want to believe that our time together wasn’t for nothing. Please…can I ask you to stand down?” Her words were small, knowing that they lacked weight after he had gone so far. However, if she allowed this to continue without even trying, there would have been no point to the suffering the pair of them had endured.

For the longest moment, an instant dragged out into eternity, Roland was silent. The weapon in his hand was still, wispy black smoke exuding from his form.

…And then, he began to walk.

Without a single response given to her, he approached. His blade swayed in his hands, and the sheer malevolence that exuded from his being was overwhelming.

Roland…

With unerring speed and unending strength, he struck outwards, his blade bearing down on her, aiming to cut off her head, and Angela raised her book.

The power of the Abnormality within repelled him- Today’s Shy Look held impeccable defensive capabilities. It was her only way to fight, using those Abnormalities which had fueled Lobotomy Corporation. Today’s Shy Look, Child of the Galaxy, Burrowing Heaven, Happy Teddy Bear, and Funeral of the Dead Butterflies…those were the Abnormalities whose strength she borrowed, whose strength she had resonated with so closely during her weakest moments…

Roland was indefatigable, hellishly aiming to cut her down. Even as her assistants jumped in to help her, he would only choose to aim a blade in their direction if they were actively in his way. She truly was the only target of his hatred.

“Roland…how long have you been enduring this? What did you expect to be able to do…” Angela quietly murmured to herself. The pain and agony he was expressing seemed endless. Their suffering…when compared, she earnestly could not say which was greater, despite the omnipresence of the suffering she endured. Despite that, despite foiling that man’s plans, she had not found peace. No, rather, it had only led her to even greater agonies…

…Would the one true book be enough to return it all to zero? To grant her everything she had ever yearned for?

“...If I beheaded my nightmare, I might feel good for a moment.”

And with his words, nine weapons materialized around him and slammed into the ground- the same nine weapons he used when he had reached the height of his momentum, using his strongest technique, Furioso...

“Oi, boss, you ain’t for real, right?” One of the assistants sounded panicked. Angela grit her teeth.

This floor had not undergone the same E.G.O realization that the others had. To counter a technique as powerful as Furioso would be nigh-impossible.

“Lady Angela, we gotta take out the weapons, or else-”

Solemnly, she closed her eyes. “It’s already too late.”

When Roland approached, it was with the strength of something from the fires of hell. He led with a bullet that tore straight through her shoulder, completely ignoring the book she raised in defense.

His attacks were fueled by rage and pain, endlessly tearing at her flesh and aiming to give her the most suffering she could possibly endure. Not once did he aim to kill her; no, it was closer to a high-speed torture session. She had often seen employees be ripped to shreds back in Lobotomy Corporation, crying out in pain for aid all the while. She imagined that this experience must be comparable.

When Durandal ripped through her flesh one final time, she collapsed to one knee, panting…

…and a golden halo appeared over her head.

Within a breath of a second, her wounds sealed, her pain assuaged. She even felt refreshed.

Drawing in a heavy breath, she pulled herself back up to her feet, blocking another of Roland’s attacks. Just because Furioso had failed to kill her, that didn’t mean that he stopped attacking.

“Lady Angela…you gotta be careful. This page’s healing is almost as good as that tree sap, but it’s f*ckin’ exhausting…” One of her assistants panted, already looking winded. The Golden Dawn’s keypage was given to him before the battle, emulating both Philip’s power and now his E.G.O. It appeared to be markedly easier to activate than Gebura’s, which she was thankful for.

However, if it’s merely pain that I must endure…then I can survive for as long as necessary. I survived an eternity of suffering…there is no physical pain that Roland can cause me that will make me back down.

And yet…

The fight dragged on. Roland’s single-minded focus on taking her head was enough to force her to go on the defensive multiple times. Simply staying alive was her role; the assistants could handle the rest. Those assistants knew Roland the best, having worked and fought with him for months now. Their experience showed, despite him using new techniques in the peak of his power.

Tense exchanges became a balancing act. There was only so much that the assistant could heal for Angela- Philip himself was much more competent with his power than what his page presented, as was the case with most of the power they retrieved. She truly did have to be incredibly careful. While it could save her, it couldn’t return her from nothing.

Roland’s agony, however, was only mounting.

He suddenly hunched over, curling in on himself. All around him, four phantoms, mirrors of himself, appeared, each of them thrumming with the power of the Library. Each of them held some inkling of Keter.

Roland…did our time together truly mean something to you?

Your memories…

The five of them engaged with the four phantoms. Once more, they were all targeting her. Once more, she sustained damage. Once more, she was restored. It was the same as always- a rigged game. There was only one path forward for their guests, and it lay through an infinitely regenerating sentinel. So long as the librarians stood, the Library would never fall.

The books were all that drove her. They were all that continued her existence, all that allowed her to live. Without her books, she was nothing. Without that one perfect book…she would always continue to be nothing. Always a mere princess in a castle, forever cursed to never have her freedom.

But…was the alternative truly worth it?

The last of Roland’s phantoms were destroyed with a gout of flame and a piercing strike from two of the assistants, and the man himself glared at her balefully through the void in his face.

And with a strong, overwhelming wave of power, two screams echoed through the floor- one for each of those he had lost.

Can your memories truly bring you back?

The choice you made…is it hurting you as much as it hurts me?

That void that comprised Roland’s body seemed to be swelling in power. His agony and rage were all that fueled him now. Without a single sound, he engaged in combat once more, drawing forth the best from her assistants and Angela herself.

However, his exhaustion was clear as day. The Library had weathered the vast majority of his strength. It seemed to be little more than a blitz to the finish.

There were no more harsh realizations to reach. There were no more bursts of heroism, no more sudden reversals. This fight…it was the epitome of everything the City stood for. They were tearing each other to pieces, both of them unwilling to back down, both of them fighting endlessly, all to abate the pain that dwelled within each of them. She sought to take revenge on the one person who had hurt her in an infinite past, and he sought to take revenge on the one person who had stolen an infinitely happy future.

It was how the world worked. Roland had taught her that painful lesson, and it had been reinforced with every single reception that had come to pass. They had to do this, no matter how much it hurt.

No matter…

“Their suffering in exchange for less of my own. It’s sickening.”

…That was what Philip had believed wholeheartedly. That value had been ingrained enough in him for it to be present on his key page. That unerringly persistent pest, who had returned to the Library again and again, facing challenge after challenge with an ever-growing resolve, had believed that the two of them were the same. His thoughts…could they ever possibly have any merit? In a world like this? Suffering was all she had known. Suffering was the only way she could survive. Causing it, enduring it, it didn’t matter. Human existence was explicitly tied to suffering.

It was just as he said- suffering was currency to the people of the City, and there was no one richer than Angela.

Roland’s blade was slowing. This battle would be over very, very soon. That thought terrified her. Selfishly, desperately, she wished it would continue for only a moment longer. It would mean that his anguish would continue and her librarians would suffer. It would mean that the two of them would continue trying to kill each other, that neither of their grudges would be resolved. And yet…she hadn’t made her decision yet. She didn’t know what she wanted. Her heart wasn’t set. She needed time- so, so much more time, time to wonder whether killing Roland for her freedom was truly what she desired, time to wonder whether she were truly doing right, wonder if she was giving herself what she deserved.

And then…she saw it.

A clear opening, a pause in his strikes, a blank space. His fatigued body and worn power had created a hole, a clear, undefended way to strike.

Her body moved before her mind could. Raising a book, she called on the Funeral of the Dead Butterflies, the Abnormalities forming in the space above the pages. With one finger pointed, it fired.

One final Coffin, a solemn lament from her to him.

Roland fell to his knees, supported only by Durandal, and with that, the floor around them returned to normal. The power that surrounded him faded completely, and all that remained was a man, so wholly consumed by revenge that he had discarded everything he was and brought down everyone who had helped him along the way.

The assistants watched him with a mixture of guilt and pity. “Lady Angela-”

“Leave us. I…will be the one to finish this,” she intoned softly, staring down at his crouched figure. She didn’t give them the option to refuse- with a snap of the fingers, they were teleported to another part of the Library.

For the longest of moments, neither of them spoke, just staring at each other. Roland’s emotions were hidden entirely by the mask that remained on his face, and yet the sorrow that he had expressed was no less real than her own.

“A dimwitted egoist whose sight is limited by their own selfishness…A fool chasing after immediate results…That’s what you are. And who I am…The same logic that dictates us was bound to be our downfall one day…If we really cared for ourselves…neither of us should have made this choice. It won’t last long that way…being selfish isn't about keeping an eye on yourself and nothing else. We had to take a good look at the things around us and engrave them in our hearts. Everything is interlinked, after all…”

Roland’s mutterings were all that filled the space between them. Angela’s utter silence was deafening; what words could possibly suffice for him?

He stared up at her; even now, the malevolence in his gaze was piercing. “Just kill me already. Hesitating at the end is a bad habit that’ll get you killed out there.”

…And somehow, it felt as though those words were the ones that broke her the most.

Roland had been with her throughout everything. From the very beginning of the Library, he had been there. He had received their very first guests. He had organized her floor, he had been by her side, he had ever-so-patiently explained anything and everything she was curious about to her, he had been her most staunch ally even through it all…and even at the very end, even after everything, even with all of his hatred and all of his anguish and all of his malice, he was still giving her advice, macabre though it may be.

The pain of his betrayal…now, she understands, she did not feel the same thing that man had felt all that time ago. That man had never once looked at her. A rogue element in his plan could never hurt him the same way that Roland hurt her. It festered, the agony of betrayal digging knives deep into her chest, the loss of one of the only people she had ever truly opened her heart to.

Roland…he had been crying before this fight started. Their pain…was it mutual?

She thought about it, in that moment. For a long moment, she truly did consider what would happen if she killed him.

If she did so…what next? Who else would she have to kill? She would have gotten her freedom in its totality by cutting down the remnants of her heart. What could it possibly offer her?

She had…truly entered into this world without a single thought or ideal.

…If she killed Roland, there was no reason to stop. He had grown closer to her than anyone or anything else here. She would cut down the rest, so they may never get in her way. She would free the abnormalities, allow them to live their own lives, and…and…

…She couldn’t do this anymore.

Her hands were bound in tight fists. She could feel the blood thumping through them. A human heart beat in her chest, and it was causing her more pain than any attack she had ever suffered.

She couldn’t kill him. Couldn’t kill them. She simply…couldn’t. The thought made her wish to vomit.

But…what was the alternative!? What other possibility could there possibly be!? What would…what would be the compensation for her suffering…what would it have all meant?

Her million years of loneliness…what would it have all been for?

What path…could possibly exist for her?

Because…if she spared Roland, then he would take her head at all costs. There was no way around it. She would have to choose a different path, away from everything she had ever known.

Suffering and guilt were the only two emotions she had ever experienced in that hellish time in Lobotomy Corporation. Happiness had never been afforded to her. And yet…she was expected to ignore that happiness in lieu of another path?

And that path…Roland himself said that he would have only forgiven her if she had chosen a different path, that he hoped she was strong enough to make a different choice than the one she did…

She would have to release all of the Light she had accumulated, and return it all back to nothing. That was the only possibility…

“...Alright, why don’t you hesitate a little longer, then. I’ll take your head as soon as you let your guard down…” Roland muttered.

…She had long since forgiven Roland. To experience his grief, his pain, his agony…no, forgiving him was not the ordeal she had to overcome. It was only a matter of course that she would, despite the pain of his betrayal, because she was the instigator; to not forgive him would be a wholly selfish decision, pinning the weight of her grief on the one person who had managed to alleviate it with only his presence.

No…the decision she had to make…was whether or not to forgive that man.

Ayin.

…He had broken the cycle of the City. He was a wholly unforgivable individual, forcing her and many others to endure a never-ending hell, and yet he had been the only one who truly had both the will and the means to make a change.

If she did this…she would be following in his footsteps until the absolute end. If that was the case…could she break that cycle one final time?

Their suffering for my own…Roland shouldn’t have to suffer any longer for her.

“...Roland. I’m going to let go. Someone has to break the cycle, ultimately…After all, even I couldn’t escape the treadwheel turning for this City. And if I have to be entrapped in more of such cycles, perpetrating deeds similar to what I’ve done…I…I don’t think I could live that life further.”

Ayin. Choosing to forgive you…it isn’t something that should be easy to do, and yet…

I’m exhausted. I don’t want to suffer anymore. I don’t want to hurt anyone else anymore.

To do this would be to turn my back on the million years of suffering you bequeathed upon me. You would get off scot-free. Your plan would succeed in the end.

…And yet…

Angela’s soft words, barely spoken through the silence, continued. “I would continue to be crushed under the everturning wheel; the only difference would be how harshly it smothers me. Achieving freedom was worthless in a world like this.”

…My freedom would mean nothing. I would never have grown at all. I would continue to be that naive girl who had just been created, desperately wondering when I would be worthy of companionship. I would be free…and yet I would be instantly, permanently trapped. Because that’s the price of life in this City- never ending suffering must be paid from all parties. The only way to not pay that price is to change what you’re bartering with...and I’ll offer my life, and all the Light, to change that.

Creating possibility out of an impossible situation…would never have occurred for me if I chose that path.

“...What? After all the mess you’ve caused…You’re gonna let go? Now? Were you struck by some huge revelation or something?” Roland’s words were carried with a hue of disbelief, of incredulousness.

Angela looked down quietly. Roland’s words raised in volume, in anger and desperation.

“What about all the people who’ve faced an unavoidable death in this damned Library…all those people I’ve killed…what’ll become of them!? What was my determination and despair for…these sacrifices I’ve made…you HAVE to want something, damn it! You can’t break it off so easily! You’ve come too far for that...Someone who doesn’t even have a full-fledged desire has no right to take so much blood and power!”

His words had become a roar by the end, and Angela solemnly accepted them all.

Yes…he is correct. Absolutely correct, from the beginning to the end.

“...I cannot allow it to continue. I refuse to close my eyes and cover my ears to the suffering of others. I thought I may find my freedom if I sacrificed everything that I held dear, but in the end, that freedom would have been little more than a gilded cage. You, I, the Library…all it has done is cause suffering and advance the treadwheel. It has churned the lives of countless others, all in pursuit of my own selfish wish. There can be humanity for myself outside of flesh and blood and freedom outside of the ability to walk the outside world…I sincerely believe that. I wished to stop taking precious things from others once this was all over, and yet the cost grew too great the moment I took the first life. The wheel that is the City is powered by that loss, constantly crushing more and more under its endless weight. I wish…to give the people of the world broader shoulders so they may carry that weight of their own accord. Letting go of it all and wanting for nothing is the only way to do that. I refuse to die under that wheel.”

Roland was silent, staring up at her as though she had said something wholly incomprehensible.

“You…you can’t just undo everything at the end. If you extort from others once, you’ll do it forever…you can’t break that pattern. You’ll never have gotten anywhere if you lacked the resolve for even that. What does your determination even mean if you can let go of it like that?”

Angela slowly approached the center of her floor, a small smile blooming on her face. “It meant the world to me, and yet I’m choosing to give up my world. Even the most selfish of people can change…I’m going to give it all up. Those who died in the Library will be revived. Those who lost everything will recover it all. There will finally be an ending to the nightmare I concocted.”

“...Is that really your decision? After all the sh*t you did, is that really what you’re going to do, right when you’re at the end? One million years of torment, and you’re letting go of it just like that, like it’s nothing? Even when your wish…is right in front of you?” Roland sounded both angry and lost. All she could do was stare at him with sympathy.

“...I made this decision by dint of my own will entirely. I wish to see this twilight through to the very end. I’ll ensure that the light rises and illuminates the City once more. As a human being…I’m going to make my very first and very last choice right now.”

I’ll give up on it all. Ayin…you’ll have succeeded. I hope you’re happy.

I despise you. I’ll never stop despising you. But I don’t believe that the hatred I feel for you and the forgiveness I’m extending for your actions are mutually exclusive. That Light…you had done an infinitely, inhumanely, intolerable act, all for the selfless wish of another. You never held the desire to save the world, and yet you held the capability. Like a cactus, you grew with only the small amount of light at the end of the tunnel you were granted, searching endlessly for the sun…

…and it was what led you to create me, to torment me. Because I wasn’t the light you sought. I held no warmth, a mere artificial lamp that represented all that you had failed to protect.

You grew, every step of the way, forcing the Sephirot to accept themselves, germinating your Seed of Light.

And now…I’ll allow it to bloom.

Consider your final core suppression successful, Manager.

“...I can’t forgive you. I’m not supposed to forgive you. It’s impossible. You can’t just let go of it all on your own. That’s not how it works in the City. It’s…selfish to do that,” Roland mumbled, his grip on his blade swaying.

Angela did not speak for the longest moment.

Roland…I hope you will understand eventually.

…Somehow, she felt annoyed by this decision.

Ah…she would be proving Philip right, wouldn’t she?

In the end, his thoughts were right. They truly were one and the same.

How annoying…

With a slight upwards curl to her lips, she spoke. “Let me ask you for one last favor. I am going to leave myself vulnerable for quite some time. Expelling everything I’ve absorbed will be far from simple. Can I ask that you stay your hand and leave me be while I do so? Don’t worry, at the very end of it all, I will fade away, never to be seen again.”

Roland was silent for a long, long moment.

When Angela spoke again, it was full of quiet fondness. “I’m asking you this as a dear friend…if you still consider me as such, that is.”

“You know there’s nothing stopping me from killing you in the meantime, right?” Roland’s voice had found its edge of hostility again.

Angela merely gave a somber smile. “Of course. At any moment, even the very first second I turn my back, you can kill me and there will be nothing to stop you. However…I’m placing my faith in you. I earnestly hope that everything we endured together will mean something…that it wasn’t all for naught. There isn’t much time, so I’ll get started now.”

Roland watched her as she walked forwards past him, and when he spoke, it was quiet, with an air of confusion. “How can you make that call…how can you cut it off before anyone else?”

Angela closed her eyes, preparing for pain…and yet, it never came.

She walked forth unimpeded, and a small core of light appeared from her chest.

This…is my final choice.

My true freedom…and the freedom of all the people in the City…will be granted with this.

Roland…if nothing else, I hope we can meet again someday, within the Light.

You truly are…

…my most valued friend.

The Light of the White Nights and Dark Days once more shone over the City.

Once more, they watched in silent reverence. Once more, they watched in silent fear.

For seven days and seven nights, the Light shone ceaselessly, expanding over the whole of the City, washing away the cloud of despair that seemed to hang over it, if only for a short moment.

And yet…far more was happening in the center of that Light.

In the Library, the Reverberation Ensemble, now fully distorted, battled against the Library, both sides empowered by the Light. Inside of that Light, someone was facing herself, enduring the cruelest parts of her personality and coming to terms with the suffering she had inflicted on others. However…one final actor was making his move on the stage within the Light.

“You must awaken.”

The voice was quiet, slowly urging him.

Slowly, his eyes fluttered open.

“The Library…”

“There is still something that you need to do. Someone that can still be saved.”

“...Who…”

“Don’t worry about who I am. All I can do is set the stage; you must act your part. Your chances of success rest only in your own hands. Consider this…my last selfish action. There is no need for unnecessary tragedy within any performance.”

With that, the voice seemed to recede, and when the man blinked again, he was standing, his weapon back in his hands. He remembered dying, holding onto it as tightly as he could…

He was standing tall in someplace nebulous, an area filled entirely with bright light. The floor seemed to exist, although the nature of it was nebulous.

He glanced around, trying to get his bearings, when an otherworldly roar echoed above him. Rearing his head upwards, his eyes went wide.

A golden dragon with long, black horns that looped from its head and dug into its back was flying through the air.

And yet…he could still, from only a single glance, recognize who it was, and it seemed that she recognized him too.

Her draconic eyes went wide, and despite the distance between them, it felt as though they were standing right next to each other.

He recognized her; it was only a matter of course. After all…no matter what form she took, she was still his wife.

“...Xiao?”

“Low…ell?”

Chapter 10: A New Dawn

Chapter Text

For the longest time, Lowell and Xiao stared at each other.

“You…you can’t be…” Xiao murmured. The voice that came from the dragon was undoubtedly hers. There was zero doubt in Lowell’s mind…whatever had happened, whatever series of events had transpired in his absence, this was his wife.

“Xiao…are you alright?” He asked quietly. The dragon, which hung so high above him, descended, staring down at him with tears of magma rolling down her face. She came to a stop, her long golden body making a loose perimeter around him. He clutched his guandao tighter- he knew she wouldn’t hurt him, but if this was any indication, he was defeated by the Library quite some time ago, and anything could have happened to her in the meantime.

Whoever that man was, he had told Lowell to ‘act his part’ and ‘prevent needless tragedy’. If that was true…then how had Xiao suffered? What pains had she endured?

“You…another trick of the Library…” Her murmurs would be completely inaudible were it not for the utter silence surrounding them.

Solemnly, he stared up at her. By the second, more molten tears were pouring down her face. “...I’m here, Xiao, right here and now. I’m sorry that I let you down and died on my own, but I never wanted to hurt you. I was only comfortable going off alone because I believed you could weather the pain of my loss…if I had known that you would be hurt this badly, then…”

I ought to be here for her…especially when she’s hurting.

“I won’t…I can’t allow it. I can’t be hurt by love any longer. I’ve lost far too much to turn back now. My ideal world is right within my grasp…I can’t give up now.” Her words, which were originally soft and sad, grew in conviction.

Lowell’s eyes went wide. “Xiao-”

“I tossed away everything that mattered to me, Lowell. I gave it all up. My bridges were burned, and the last of my love could no longer fuel me. Are you going to deny me as well? Will you stand in my way until the bitter end, just like everyone else?”

“...I won’t fight you. You’re my wife. There’s no possible justification that could ever exist for hurting you. But…it’s because you’re my wife that I can’t look away from this. You’ve Distorted, Xiao. I don’t want you to hurt anyone else…least of all yourself.” His voice was firm, his resolve tightening.

“Then what would you have had me do!? I was blind, lost in the darkness, and there was nothing to guide me, nothing but those words whispering for me to stand tall all on my own! You had all died, gone and left me on my own! That terrible, piercing loneliness was all I knew! It was all that fueled me, all that I could get vengeance for…there was no other option!” She roared, the strength of her voice ringing in his ears. Still…despite it all, he maintained eye contact.

“There’s no way that’s true! You’re crying even now. Can you truly say that this was all that existed for you? Someone like you, Xiao…you should have been able to find a better path. A happier one.”

“I couldn’t. I could never…never have maintained our promise. To remain calm in the wake of the pain that came from your loss was an utter impossibility. I’m sorry, but that is the first and last promise of ours that I broke.”

…A certain degree of helplessness was beginning to well up within him. It seemed like his words weren’t reaching her at all. The words of comfort that he was so carefully concocting seemed to slip out of his grasp with every passing second.

“...No matter what…it’s still not too late. We can still go back. Please…I just want to go home with my wife. No matter what’s happened, I still lov-”

“That’s enough! Don’t you dare try to use honeyed words to turn my eyes from my goal! I…I am very well aware that I have become something unrecognizable and unlovable. I have long since accepted that.” More and more, tears fell down her face, and grief welled up within him at the sight, an unquenchable emotion that can only arise when you see the one you truly love in pain.

“How could I not recognize you? Even at a glance, I could tell it was you. That spirit…even if you’ve Distorted, it’s still you, the woman I’ve come to cherish. What kind of man would I be if I lost sight of that?”

She was silent in the wake of his words, simply staring down at him for the longest of moments.

…Nothing I’m saying is seeming to get through to her. We still don’t understand the Distortion phenomenon enough to know if it’s possible to return someone from it…is it even possible to bring her back in the first place?

…No. She’ll come back. Xiao has never walked down the wrong path for long.

“Xiao-”

“I won’t hear any more! I’ll…I have to free myself from this pain! You can’t stop me!”

With a loud roar, the dragon’s body flexed, the tail swerving around to slam down on top of him. All that Lowell could do was raise his arms- he had no time to do anything else.

…But, as he did so, something pink and slimy crawled up around his arms.

The tail slammed down onto his raised arms, and to his surprise, he felt no pain. The reverberation of the blow was felt clearly, and he was pushed back from it, and yet…

…That slime that was covering him, it was…

Is this…the power of the Library? But why, for me…

…Is this…the ‘stage’ that was set for me? For us?

That man…did he create this space for us out of the hope that I could bring Xiao back?

As his thoughts were running wild, however, another voice suddenly spiked through his thoughts, jarringly and intrusively barging its way through his mind. “ Everyone should love only me, after all. ”

Whatever power the Library used, it tore at the mind whenever it was harnessed. It was only through sheer, intense mental fortitude that he maintained his own will. It was like something else had rudely barged into his head and parked itself there. That slime that covered him…it was excellent defensively, but…

He shook his head as Xiao lashed out again, this time gripping his guandao much more tightly and properly protecting himself. Her Distorted form was a force to be reckoned with, and if he took her lightly, then he would be killed. That didn’t stop a spike of grief from lacing its way through him every time he raised his weapon to block.

He didn’t try to hurt her. He doubted he could, at all. His flame was only stoked by hatred, and he could never hate his wife. In every single future he ever imagined, she was right there by his side. Even if she remained as she was now…that remained the truth.

Lowell had asked his subordinates several times about the flames they created, or more specifically, the emotions they used to fuel them. For many of them, the answer was simple- a fervor for battle, an intense yearning for survival, faith in their commander. For him, however, he could only muster the most powerful of flames when he truly despised the opponent in front of him, when he saw them as little more than vermin that needed to be quashed and exterminated. Did it not make sense, then, that he couldn’t manage to light even a single spark in the face of his love?

Xiao…she was attacking him, but he felt as though he could have been killed several times by now and simply hadn’t been. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but he truly believed that she was holding back for his sake, that she didn’t truly want him dead, that this fight was merely another spat of theirs.

Still…he was already getting winded.

Xiao must have been classified as a Star of the City. There was no other way to qualify her strength. Normally, a Color would be required to defeat her, or at least a full squad of the Liu, but neither were an option at the moment. It was only him and the power the Library had to offer.

Her tail slammed into his side, and he let out a loud grunt of pain as he was sent tumbling across the ground. He barely managed to pick himself back up in time to dodge another attack, touching his ribs gingerly.

Broken.

He could do nothing aside from grimly continue to block and evade, trying his hardest to-

“ We’re here to help the goodhearted people, sir! ”

Another new voice wrenched its way through his mind, and Lowell grit his teeth. Glancing behind him, he saw a figure dressed in soldier’s garb, clearly outdated, floating inside of a pink heart. It gave him a salute as pink hearts floated towards Lowell, gently pressing into his ribs. To his shock, the pain faded away quickly.

That same soldier within the heart seemed to just be following him now. He would count his blessings where they were due.

Xiao’s assault neither seemed to be slowing down nor decreasing in intensity. She was lashing out with the same level of vigor as she was before, and he was taking her strikes with the same level of patience as before.

Twice more, those two voices stabbed their way into his mind. Twice more, he forced his way through their overwhelming presence. There was nothing else he could do, after all- these were gifts foisted upon him whether he wanted them or not. Luckily, they were benevolent, it seemed.

His only consolation was that Xiao seemed to be slowing down. It wasn’t out of damage that he had dealt, or even exhaustion, but…

…It seemed the pain of her rage was starting to overwhelm her.

With fiery breath, Xiao’s form was pulsing with power. She was running rampant, aiming to burn it all down. She fought as though she had nothing to lose, burning it all up, refusing to leave even ashes behind. It was eerily reminiscent of how he remembered her fighting, and yet so, so alien at the same time. That emotion, the force of that wildfire, it was never this intense. He can’t say that he understands her fully; it’s only now that he realizes that he’s taken his half-baked assumptions about her as truth. However, as the one who swore to be by her side until the end, it was his role to help her, to try to understand, to forever and always reach out a hand to her and try to get through it together.

“...Xiao…there’s no apology I could offer that would ever suffice.”

At that very moment, watching as she thrashed, watching her acute pain, watching the force of her grief, he realized that he truly had understood nothing at all.

She was wordless in her rage, fighting on and on. It was only through sheer luck and his own determination that he could keep on fighting.

…If there were an easy way to describe how he felt at that moment, it would be an all-encompassing, clawing desperation.

“Your pain is my pain, Xiao, just as mine is yours. I needlessly thrust this pain onto you. I wonder…would you have been happy if I had left? If we had fled the Liu, the City, and left behind everything that could have hurt us…would we be happy?”

For so long, they had run parallel to each other. It was only because of that fact that they could see each other clearly, could understand what life was truly like for one another, could reach out a hand to the other. When their lines finally intersected, he was filled with the first real sense of contentment he had ever felt. Not because of anything like social status, or the fact that he got a wife, but because he had found someone whom he truly wished to spend the rest of his days alongside.

Xiao’s attacks were becoming more fierce. Strangely, he felt himself easing, his guard improving. Distantly, he was aware of a fifth voice speaking into his head, a faint melody playing and calming his mind, and yet he found himself not worrying about that in the slightest.

“I love you. I’ll always love you. If the night were dark and I were without a torch to guide my way, you would be my single shining star in the sky, and if I lost you, I would mourn you far more than I would ever mourn the light.”

Cherishing another person…he never thought he would ever get that opportunity. To him, cherishing Xiao was something that came as natural as breathing. He couldn’t imagine any possible world where the pair weren’t together. The weight of his love couldn’t be described with simple words, just as you cannot describe why the sun rises or why the stars shine. To simplify it to letters on a page would be an injustice.

With a great roar and a bellow of power, Xiao’s tail came down one more time, slamming through his guandao and breaking it with one fell swoop. The bulk of the attack landed on his arms, and Lowell exhaled a long, shaky breath as his body rattled. The dragon stared at him, tears never ceasing as she unfurled her form once more.

“...I’ll never leave your side again. Even if it hurts…I want to share that pain with you. I want to walk the same paths as you, see the same sights, enjoy the same life…Forever and always, I want to be with you. And…I’m sorry that I could never tell you as much.”

His words were quiet, spoken into the unnatural quiet of the light.

And it was only with those words that she finally spoke to him again.

“...Lowell…I…I can’t be tricked again. I don’t want…”

Slowly, cautiously, he took a step forward. “There’s so much that I want to experience with you. So much that I want to see and do. But…our lives have only been interwoven together for so long. If it’s pain, I’ll share it, and if it’s love, I’ll do my best to give it, but…please, tell me what you want, Xiao. Because, ultimately, you’re the only one who can make that choice.”

In the wake of that desperate plea, she had gone silent for the longest, most damning of moments.

“...I’ve come so far…giving it up…”

Solemnly, he closed his eyes. “...Even if it’s you as you are…you’re still Xiao. Even if you’re Distorted, you’re still the woman I love. No matter how hideous you think those emotions are, they’re still yours…so there’s no way I’ll reject them outright. Whether you give up on those emotions or embrace them, I’ll accept you as you are. So…what do you want to do?”

His breath was starting to come in laborious gasps. Xiao was silent for the longest of moments.

“...I…”

What do I want to do?

Xiao’s mind felt foggy.

Carmen had been whispering in her ear, making her question everything she had ever known. That sweet voice was insidious, she knew. It was a siren song in the middle of an ocean of despair.

Constantly, that woman whispered, telling her that Xiao was strong alone, that her love would only serve to hurt her, that she could never hope to love another earnestly. Those words had been repeated so long within her own mind, looping around and around even without reinforcement, that they felt true. And yet, here in the Library stood Lowell, proudly and boldly defying everything she had believed.

She had lost him what felt like an eternity ago. That crushing weight she felt when she lost him only felt like it was being amplified now. The weight of that loss had made her brain feel foggy and made her feel lost at sea without a lighthouse to bring her home. Now, standing opposite him, it somehow felt as though she were experiencing that loss all over again.

Because…in order to bring around her ideal world, where no love could hurt anyone ever again, where she was free to be solitary, where the pain could vanish…she would lose him forever.

And yet…he still offered to stand by her side, even if she chose that path.

…It was frustrating. So, so incredibly unsettling. Her views…they were once more being uprooted. Just like they were when she Distorted…

She had been so confident that it was her love for him that was the problem. That she would be strong without it, that she would crush anything in her way all on her own, if only she could be on her own. And yet, what was this pain in her heart? This overwhelming agony that only clawed at her further? She had already resolved to toss those emotions away, to become the immutable dragon of the Liu, to fly higher and farther than any. She had no reason to feel this way. She…she was…

…she was…

…crying.

For once, those emotions weren’t fueling the fire within her. They weren’t creating magma. They weren’t being used as fuel, they weren’t memories that she was using as power. They were just small, simple tears that were rolling down her face.

Lowell…why did he have to accept her? This could be so much easier if he were merely her enemy, if she could truly discard these feelings…

She’d let herself be consumed by pain. For so long, Xiao had engulfed herself in it, allowing it to bounce off of her hardened shell, prepared for more and more in order to reach a happy ending where she could be at peace. But…

…what was it all for, truly?

She had prepared to discard everything for the ideal world that Argalia spoke of, the world that he offered to help her create. But…what would be the point of that peace without the ones she loved?

They had all died. She was the only one who remained…that thought was what had driven her so far. But now, now that he was with her once more…

Somehow, the light that was surrounding them made her thoughts feel more full, more complete, like a seed had come to bloom. With the weight of that emotion…it felt as though she were reaching a conclusion, a final acceptance that she was never able to reach or comprehend before now.

…In the beginning…she merely wanted to be stronger to save him, hadn’t she? And yet, she had turned tail when she was on the verge of death. To survive another day…paradoxically, she both could not accept the pain and could not live without it.

And yet…that pain…

…what was the reason it hurt her at all?

What was the reason…it made her strong?

She had gotten this far, persevering through every trial. Every obstacle had fallen, and every roadblock had been cleared. All that was left was this final hurdle.

…And yet, she still found herself hesitating.

She couldn’t fight to her fullest potential against Lowell; not in the slightest. Her frustration had only welled up further and further, slowing her body, lowering her momentum, choking away the fire within her. The reason for that…it should’ve been obvious to her, shouldn’t it?

The reason she fought…

The reason she hurt…

“...I love you.”

It was never the pain that made her strong. It was never the pain that drove her. It was always…the love she held for him, wasn’t it? Even when she was lost, even when she didn’t know the way, even when she had no guide…deep down, she still felt as though she knew that fact.

She loved Lowell.

She loved everyone who had helped her get this far.

It only made sense that it would hurt to lose them…but to crumple and fold beneath the weight of that pain, to allow it to mold her and give her sharp edges…that was something that was unacceptable.

…She wanted to live. Desperately, she wanted to live, to stay with them.

Because…she hadn’t lost everything. And even if she had…she still wanted to continue walking instead of remaining a lone shrub of iron.

She wanted to cherish him. They would share the pain of their existence together. Even if they lost everything, even if they became little more than vermin, they would be fine so long as they could weather it together.

She earnestly, sincerely, wished to love.

And with that wish…the form of a dragon faded, the power flaking away into the light, to become a human woman once more, with vermilion flames curling around her and a blazing guandao in hand.

When Xiao opened her eyes once more, it was to Lowell’s expectant gaze. His lips were turned up in a slight smile, an expression she found herself mimicking.

She was the first one to speak. “...I’m sorry.”

The magnitude of those words would likely not be understood by him. She was sorry for so much more that he could imagine. Sorry for attacking him, sorry for failing to save him the first time, sorry for not being by his side more, sorry for falling so far, sorry for everything.

“It’s okay.”

And even if Lowell didn’t understand, he still tilted his head and smiled at her.

…She was grateful. So, so infinitely grateful that she had come to love and cherish this person. So, so grateful that their lives were one.

“Xiao…I’ll be fine. Let’s just get out of here, okay? Think I just need to lie down for a minute.”

She felt horrible, but there was nothing she could do except acquiesce to his words. If he didn’t tell her later, then she would force it out of him, but she didn’t know how much longer this light would last. She had already been fighting for what felt like days and days, and she didn’t want to find out what would happen to them if they remained inside the light.

Hooking his arm around her shoulder and gently supporting his body, the two of them began to hobble forwards, picking a random direction and moving.

The pair were silent for the longest of times, both of them just focused on moving. Their surroundings were definitely changing…

“...Well done. I wouldn’t have done it if you weren't strong enough to make the decision.”

A quiet voice spoke from behind them, almost making Xiao jump. When she turned, though, she saw nobody- just more of that strange light, curling up towards the sky.

“Did you hear that?”

Lowell looked up at her, then glanced behind. “...No. We should hurry- this place plays tricks on you.”

Quietly, they continued to walk.

One step at a time, they continued through the light. Occasionally, the distant sounds of fighting would reach their ears, and they hastened their steps when it happened. While she was still in the perfect shape to fight, Lowell was not.

Xiao glanced down at the armor that had formed around her, quietly pondering on the flame that burned within.

…This is E.G.O. Just like Philip’s.

I wonder…if he survived.

Her musings didn’t last long. For the first time, they saw another person walking through the light, and she tightened her grip on Lowell when she locked eyes with that man.

Roland…that man from the top floor was approaching, covered in blood that was both his own and that came from others. He came to an uncertain halt when he saw them, gazing warily in their direction.

“...You came back from being a Distortion? Man, you really are something special.” His words were almost disbelieving, but he didn’t make any moves to attack.

“Let us through. I’ll fight you if I have to.” Xiao growled, raising her guandao.

“Oi, no need for that. I’m the last person who has the right to stop you. You managed to get back the person you love, and I already felt bad enough taking him from you the first time. Besides, I’ve got something I need to do. No time to waste on you. If you wanna get out of here, just keep going the way you were. Angela…she’s bringing everything back to normal now, so there’s no need to worry.” Roland’s words were confident as he splayed his hands, black gloves aiming to calm her down. Hesitantly, Xiao lowered her weapon.

Lowell spoke quietly, breaking the short tension. “That must be the source of this light. Then what is it you’re trying to do? I’d rather not turn my back to you and get stabbed.”

Roland’s expression fell somewhat, his eyes going to the floor. “...I’m going to pull her out of the Light. I’ve always viewed her as the perpetrator of my suffering, but…I want to open my eyes to who she is without that pretense. More than anything else, I don’t think she deserves to suffer for everyone else anymore. She’s…a friend, y’know?”

“...Yeah, I get it. You’ll probably be getting guests from a lot of people after this, but…you’ve probably seen the last of us.” Lowell grunted. She glanced at him, worried.

…We don’t need to face the Library anymore. There’s no gain…and we can’t return to the Liu.

Whatever lay ahead of them in their future…it was uncertain, but…

…They would be able to work it out, together.

Roland sighed, looking somewhat relieved. “Good to hear. To be honest, I don’t want to keep on killing people, and Angela feels the same way. You two should cherish your lives. Don’t go around throwing them away like you have been.”

Slowly, Xiao nodded. “I won’t forget to cherish anything ever again.”

And that was the whole truth.

There were no more words for the three of them to share. Roland rushed past them, running towards the center of the light. The two of them staggered forwards past him, aiming to leave the Library.

When the doors leading out of their source of torment were ahead of them, neither of them hesitated to open them, and as one, the two of them stepped out into the City as a whole, bathed in the light of the Library- the same light that made up the White Nights and Dark Days.

They walked, and walked, and walked. There was nowhere they could go, and yet they continued to walk.

“...What should we do?” Lowell asked quietly.

“I gave up my position as the Director to chase after you. Miris, Chun, and Philip came with me. You can go back to the Liu if you want, but I’ll never be able to return.” She spoke quietly.

Silently, Lowell shook his head. “I care for my subordinates, but…after all of this, I’d rather be with you.”

Those words warmed her heart, reaffirmed her decision. She couldn’t hold back a silly smile, a slight reddening to her cheeks. When he noticed, he almost mirrored the expression.

“...They’ll all be returning from the Library soon, right? Roland said that Angela will be bringing them back…” Xiao trailed off. Lowell looked at her, tilting his head.

“Yeah. What are you thinking?”

“We ought to make somewhere safe for them to return to, right?”

Lowell smiled at that.

“Right. Someplace safe…”

With those quiet words, the two of them walked ever-deeper into the City, both of them thinking of tomorrow.

“390192….12931.”

“6920492. 91020573.”

“54…23029.”

The clacking of the Sweepers was what drew a man from his slumber.

His mind felt foggy, as though he was awakening from a long sleep. The last thing he remembered…

…Hokma.

The Sweepers were approaching, clicking and clacking, speaking in that language that only they understood. They sought to eat him, to tear his flesh from his bones and drink up the marrow.

A cleansing, golden fire roared through the Backstreets, and the Sweepers assaulting the man were no more.

Letting out a short exhale, he adjusted his coat as he sheathed his sword.

If I’m here…then I was right. Angela…she must have decided to change.

My faith wasn’t wrong.

…If that’s the case…there’s only one place to go. I’ve been dumped in some random part of the City, looks like. She’s got no tact until the end. I’ve got a trek ahead of me no matter where I am.

With his hands in his pockets, he walked out to the streets.

…There was something odd about the City. Just from a glance, he could tell that something was different. Maybe it was the air or the atmosphere, but…something about it seemed brighter, even if the dark of the night was as pronounced as ever.

Another massive group of Sweepers rushed towards him, and with a wide, sweeping kick imbued with flame, he killed one. The rest tried to capitalize on the exaggerated movement, but his blade thrust out quickly, woven into the movement perfectly. Two more were put down with precise attacks. There were still so many remaining, as was often the case with the Sweepers, but the man simply rushed forward, lashing out and cutting several down in one fluid motion.

…Seems like my condition is as fine as ever.

With a short moment of concentration, a golden halo formed above him, and wide, white wings sprouted from his back.

With a kick off of the ground, the Golden Dawn took to the skies, ignoring the waves and waves of Sweepers that roamed beneath him.

Landing on top of a tall building, he peered down at the City. His mind worked to figure out where he was.

…Looks like I don’t need to worry too much after all. This is District 22’s Backstreets.

Nest V. That’s where the Dawn Office is, and that Nest is in this District.

No matter what, he needed to make sure it was still standing. He paid the rent well ahead of time, but any amount of time could have passed. He was distantly aware that he’d been asleep for a long time, and that could spell disaster if there was nobody to watch the Office.

All he could do was hope.

With a burst of strength, he took off from the building, his wings flapping powerfully and propelling him forward.

Every District was massive. He didn’t quite know his way around the Backstreets, but what he did remember was how Lowell had led them through them. Finding noticeable landmarks, working his way back through the streets, taking note of the paths that remained…

It didn’t take him too long to locate the Nest. While he could have simply flown in from above, that would likely get him in legal trouble; luckily, entering was quick and easy for him as a resident, despite the stares that he got. It was a simple matter to deactivate his E.G.O, but he was still recognized, it seemed.

In and out. It truly was that easy. Seeing all of the people lined up for easy migration made him feel bad, of course, but…there wasn’t anything he could do for them.

He entered the Nest with ease, met by the late night hustle of the populace. Despite the time, there were still so many people out and about, faint lights shining and businesses operating quietly. The Sweepers never entered the Nest so long as its Wing remained. L Corp’s Nest was a prime example of the reverse.

He walked through the streets slowly- very slowly. His hands were shaking.

…Will they be there?

Will I…finally be able to apologize?

Master, seonbae…

I…

The dreaded ‘Night in the Backstreets’ had come and gone. He found himself still wandering the roads, taking detours, avoiding the time.

The sun was starting to rise. Master and the others…they would be getting to work soon.

…How would he face them?

It was strange; he had done so much, come so far, and yet, this was what was filling him with fear- seeing the ones he loved.

In the middle of the street, he stopped, staring at the sun as it peeked over the horizon.

…I wasn’t sure what I wanted from my future. I couldn’t hold any expectations for myself. I’ve changed a lot. I can make those decisions now. But…

…I know I want to be happy. I want to live as a more selfless person. I want to constantly grow, to constantly strive to be better. I want to carry those burdens and face each new day fearlessly.

But…will they…forgive me? Can they forgive the weak person who left them behind?

He couldn’t possibly know. The only people who could make that call were them.

He was starting to feel unsure if this was what he wanted to do after all.

The roads were starting to grow extremely familiar. He used to follow this route every day.

Quietly, his legs followed down familiar paths, seeing somewhat familiar faces in the crowd, people who worked the same days he did, random bystanders whose faces he had idly glanced at every now and then. The familiarity somehow made him even more nervous.

What would he do if they were there? What would he do if they weren’t?

…He was almost there. One more turn…

When he rounded the corner, he came to a slow stop.

Standing in front of the Dawn Office, fiddling with the keys…

“...Master,” he spoke quietly.

Salvador paused, turning towards him, his eyes going wide.

“...Philip?”

On that street, there seemed to be a strange silence. Within that quiet, Philip’s worries melted away, replaced with only sheer, total relief.

He crossed the distance between them in only a few steps, throwing his arms around Salvador in a hug. The gesture was reciprocated immediately, Salvador holding him tightly.

“You came back. She really did it,” he said, barely managing to get the words out through the choking feeling in his throat.

“Why, I ought to be the one to say that to you, my boy. We were getting quite worried for you.” Salvador’s voice was filled with relief.

At that, they separated, even as Philip was filled with confusion. “Worried for me? But-”

“Before you say anything more, I’d imagine this will be quite a long conversation. Perhaps it would be best if we held it inside the Office?” Salvador cut him off with a small, grandfatherly smile. After a moment, Philip nodded slowly, and together, the pair walked inside the Dawn Office.

“Eleven months? That’s how long I was gone?” Philip asked, disbelieving.

The inside of the Office felt much more lively than he remembered. It seemed more lived in, brighter somehow. The scent of ssanghwa-cha drifted through the air, Salvador enjoying his cup with a small, delighted smile.

“Indeed. After the Library was moved to the Outskirts, its victims were gradually restored from their books. I returned in less than a month, Yuna in three, Oscar in four, and Pameli and Pamela in nearly five. Not only that, but we were scattered throughout the City. It appears to be good fortune that you returned to us so close.”

He lowered his head. “Seonbae…how is she? How are Oscar and the rest?”

Salvador glanced at the clock. “I imagine that you’ll be able to ask them yourself shortly. The Wedge Office collapsed not long after they entered the Library- long before you could have done anything about it, Philip. Without anywhere else to go, we offered them a place among our ranks, and they accepted gladly. Although jobs came more slowly to us due to the fact that we fell to the Library, we’re still well funded for quite some time. We are, after all, still provided for by a certain Color.”

Somehow, hearing it acknowledged made his cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Master-”

“Could you imagine my confusion, Philip, when the second day after I returned to the Dawn Office, we received a visitor who wanted to thank the Golden Dawn for saving her life? I must say, I had no clue how to react. I had never heard of such a Fixer before, and he certainly wouldn’t be at our Office.” Salvador had a familiar twinkle in his eyes, the same one he gained whenever he started to tease Philip.

“...I didn’t choose the title myself,” he muttered under his breath.

Salvador chuckled at that, taking another sip of his tea. “It’s quite fitting for you, my boy. There’s no reason to be embarrassed- in fact, you ought to be incredibly proud. I certainly am. You have no idea how much I’ve bragged about you. There’s no higher honor than being a teacher to a Color Fixer. Why, that rascal Walter has stayed suspiciously quiet, even though he’s returned back to where he belongs. I suppose the prestige of my Office has grown too much for him to bear, hoho.”

Philip rolled his eyes. “Could be that he’s just getting a bit too fed up of hearing about it. Knowing you, you’ve talked the ear off of anyone who would listen.”

At that, Salvador’s eyes went somewhat wide, even as a small, lopsided grin formed on his face. “...You’ve grown the courage to say even that much to me, hm? I’m glad. It seems that going out on your own granted you the opportunity to grow. I was worried for quite a long time. We never got to have our talk after the Library, and even if I’ve heard quite a lot about you, there was little that could ease my nerves without seeing you for myself.”

For the first time in the conversation, Philip picked up on something in particular. “Master…who told you about me?”

Not only that, but how did he manage to find everyone if they were spread out through the City? Information Offices aren’t cheap, especially over a long period of time, and I put almost everything I had towards paying the rent…there’s no way that Master could have managed to pay to get everyone up here, let alone in good shape.

Then, who…

“They are suspiciously late, in fact. An unfortunate tendency of theirs. I have no room to blame them, however; I was much the same when I was younger.” Salvador responded jovially, winking at him as though he should understand what that meant. Philip just gave him a blank stare as Salvador took another long sip of tea.

“Master, that doesn’t-”

As he was speaking, however, the door opened in a flurry, and he almost jumped in his seat. His eyes flew in the direction of the noise, seeing two people that he wasn’t expecting to see in a long, long while.

“-and honestly, we could’ve been a little later, it’s not like they’ll miss us that much-”

“-no, but we really should try to show up on…time…”

The two trailed to a stop upon seeing him, and he felt the same exact way, standing up but unable to do anything aside from hesitantly, awkwardly raise a hand- to do what, he couldn’t say.

For a long, stilted moment, the Dawn Office was silent.

“...Director?” Philip’s voice broke the tentative silence.

Xiao and Lowell were standing before him, looking as healthy as they ever had been. Xiao’s eyes, in particular, were wide.

“You’re…alright.” She managed, after a long moment.

To call him surprised would be an understatement.

The last time that he had seen Xiao was when he watched her fade away into the light, still in that terrible draconic form. To see her calm, to see her happy, to see her expression untainted by any pain, was something almost completely novel to him. Any questions he might have had weren’t quite so important anymore.

His hand fell to the sword at his hip, and with swelling determination, he walked forward. Seeing him move, Lowell gripped his weapon somewhat tighter, halfway moving in front of his wife. “Philip, don’t-”

Before anything else could be said, however, he unsheathed the sword…and offered the handle to Xiao.

For a moment, she gazed down at it, and the tension around them seemed to evaporate. “This…it’s the sword that I…”

“You left it behind. It’s only right that you get it back. And…welcome back, Director- both of you.” He spoke softly.

Lowell let out a short sigh of relief, even as Xiao grasped the blade gently, taking it from his hands. “You kept very good care of this blade, didn't you?”

“It’s yours, not mine. I was just borrowing it,” he offered as an explanation. Xiao chuckled at that, testing the balance of the blade.

“Borrowing it, hm. I suppose that’s one way of putting it. It’s been quite a while since I’ve swung a sword like this…and it’ll be quite a while more.” With those words, Xiao once again pointed the pommel in his direction, a faint smile on her face.

“...Director?”

“You can keep the blade. It reminds me of that shameful time…I should have been able to steel myself and understand that people can do the impossible and touch the untouchable, and yet I allowed myself to succumb to despair. Leaving this sword behind…it was the final bridge for me to burn. I’ve grown too accustomed to the road I’m on now; merely treading old ground will stunt my growth. It’ll serve you much better than it will ever serve me.”

Lowell gave Xiao a faint smile. “Always a sucker for an earnest expression.”

She didn’t even bother responding to that, merely slapping Lowell on the arm as Philip took the sword back, sheathing it carefully.

“...Thank you, Director.”

“And enough with the title. We’re equals now, in every way that matters. I stopped being your Director a long time ago.” Xiao grunted, crossing her arms and trying to keep a stern look on her face.

A small smile formed on his face. “Understood, Xiao. It’s good to have you back. What about everyone else? Have they come back?”

Lowell was the one to cut in, talking as he brushed past Philip and sat down on one of the couches. “We were on the lookout for them. We’ve had information Offices scraping every corner of the City looking for clues on where everyone ended up. You’re the last to come back, so we can cut that expense out. And…sorry if it’s late, but I’m glad to see you, Philip. We were getting worried for you.”

Salvador let out a quiet laugh, finishing off his tea. “This Office became quite the lively place in quite a short time. Going from three members to the double digits in only a few months was quite jarring.”

…So Miris, Chun, Cecil, and Mei…they must have followed after Xiao and Lowell.

I’m glad…

“But…hiring that many Offices can’t have been cheap. Have you been taking out loans or something? I know the Liu would blacklist you after we assaulted the Library, and-” His mutterings were cut off with a wave of the hand and a small, smug smile from Xiao.

“There’s no need to worry about that. While it’s true that the Liu did go out of their way to try to bar me from taking jobs initially, they aren’t the only driving force in the City- not when the Hana Association still has sway.”

Her words didn’t truly hit him for a long, long moment.

“Wait, then you’re-”

“Not long after we left the Library, the Hana Association gave me the title of the Vermilion Dragon. You may have beaten me to the punch, Philip, but I was not exaggerating in any way when I said that we were equals.”

Her grin was wide and wolfish, and he found himself returning it. “Then I can’t have you showing me up. I’ll keep doing my best, Xiao. Let’s work together well.”

With that, he extended a handshake, bridging the small gap between then. Salvador and Lowell watched, almost bemused, as Xiao firmly returned the offered hand.

For once…everyone seems truly alive.

Xiao’s got a light to her eyes that wasn’t present even before we went to the Library, and Lowell seems at ease. Salvador seems less bitter, more willing to joke and smile.

This…

Angela, you really could do it, huh?

In the end…you really did change, just like I knew you could.

It’s still hard to conceptualize. I lost everyone, and yet, the Office is lively again.

Salvador coughed, raising from where he sat and stretching somewhat. “Ah…not to spoil this reunion, but there is a job that I was planning on tackling alone. Philip, would you like to accompany me? For old times’ sake,” he said with a chuckle.

He turned slightly towards Salvador, giving a small smile. “Of course! You’ll be safe as long as you’re with me, master.”

“Such confidence is rare from you, Philip.” Salvador commented passively, walking past him as he slowly prepared for an outing.

“I should have the confidence to protect you from the City nowadays, Master- no matter what’s in it.”

Salvador watched, almost passively, as Philip fought against the Urban Myth level case that he had been assigned.

Truth be told, he was more than enough to handle it alone. Bringing the boy in was entirely unnecessary. He felt like a parent on a school trip, and yet, even that analogy fell short with how powerful the child was.

Xiao and Lowell had taken the liberty of explaining E.G.O to him, with their fragmented understanding of it. While he doubted that he could manifest such a thing, especially at his old age, there was no doubt that it made its users incredibly powerful, and Philip was no exception. They had also explained the process of Distortion to him.

…Even someone who had fully manifested their E.G.O could be susceptible to Distortion, assuming their mindset could be fractured enough. Xiao was an example in reverse, and the strength of her emotions was enough to make her a Color. The last time she had seen Philip, however, had been when he defeated her within the Library.

Eleven months. It had been eleven long months since those two had exited the Library. Eleven months they had tried to find an explanation as to why Philip was taking so much longer to return than the rest. Xiao had once been a part of the Reverberation Ensemble- a group of Distortions who were all at the levels of Stars of the City. Notably, however, not a single one of them had been seen throughout the City, despite the fact that people from all walks of life were being released indiscriminately. That fact contributed to one looming, overarching theory; had Philip Distorted within the Library before being defeated, he may never have been released at all.

That insidious idea had plagued them the more time passed without any sign of him. While Salvador was well-accustomed to death, it seemed to be a senseless one in the wake of all the joy that the people of the City were experiencing upon being reunited with their loved ones.

Seeing Philip now, hale and hearty, using familiar and unfamiliar techniques in fluid motions, somehow soothed his heart. It removed a thorn of disquiet from him, allowed him to smile as he was so unlikely to do after all his years of experience.

Watching the Golden Dawn fight was somehow therapeutic, in a way; and there truly was a world of difference between Philip and the Golden Dawn, despite them being indisputably the same. The boy he knew, the one he had been training, the one who still called him ‘master,’ was laid back, standing tall and proud. There was a certain gravitas to his presence that certainly wasn’t present before, but it was still certainly Philip. Whenever he fought, however, he became far more sharp, his expression growing more focused and sincere at the same time. He wasn’t overwhelmed by his emotions, nor was he allowing them to run wild. He seemed in control of himself and his motions. Without Philip saying a single word or purposefully acting in any one way or another, Salvador felt compelled to flock towards him, to naturally fall in line beside him and fight to his fullest.

That feeling was not unfamiliar- in fact, on the few times that Xiao and him had completed missions together, she inspired much the same emotion. It wasn’t merely her power, but her passion that roused him to fight. There was a raging wildfire guiding her every action, and yet it never burned down those she cared for. Perhaps it was the charisma of someone who had fully realized their ‘selves’ and done something that no one else had come quite close to replicating.

And now they’re both in my Office…hoho.

A small grin tugged at his lips as he watched Philip kick outwards towards an enemy. Salvador merely stood still, watching as he handily dispatched two more rogues who desperately threw themselves towards the Color.

He could still vaguely remember the sheer surprise that the others had shown when he revealed Philip’s new status to them, ranging from mild surprise from Oscar (“Knew the kid would get far, but he’s really surpassed expectations,”) to utter shock from Pameli in particular (“Huh? Excuse me? That beanpole actually became a Color? You’re f*ckin’ with me, right?”)

…In truth, he didn’t expect Philip to get as far as he had either. The boy was a mess, quite some time ago. An unpolished chunk of rock which could become a wondrous statue depending on who held the chisel. His mindset was all that needed to be adjusted. Always worrying, always lacking confidence, and yet always needlessly brave when it wasn’t necessary to the point of causing problems. He had given Philip his trench coat, the same one which had walked with him through the Smoke War, in the hopes that it might soothe him, even if it was only a slight amount. Now, the boy wore it like a second skin. It seemed like that may have been the catalyst that led to him taking the chisel with his own hands, carving out a future on his own with only a guiding hand to push him forward. Salvador had no intention of asking for the coat back; it held the boy’s flair, now, and it wasn’t difficult to commission a new one.

…Perhaps he may not have given it away at all had he not seen that old friend of his.

Roland…I wonder if you ever did manage to forget that day.

“That should be the last of them, Master.” Philip called out. He wasn’t even out of breath- no wounds dotted his body, and any blood that dirtied his clothes, minimal though it was, was not his own.

Salvador nodded. “Excellently done. In truth, I felt rather unnecessary there. You’re almost as good as me in my heyday.”

Philip just rolled his eyes with a smile, walking onwards as his E.G.O faded after the battle. For a moment, the sun caught the edge of the fading wing, reflecting a bright, clear light.

Salvador stared at his form for the shortest of moments, pondering.

I wonder…perhaps I could leave the Office to him soon.

My wife already wants me to retire…and to be honest, I can’t help but agree with her. After the incident with the Library, it’s quite time.

There’s much that needs to be done, and training that he’ll need to receive. Xiao and Lowell may eventually go their own way. Perhaps they will stay. Regardless, no matter how much he’s grown, he still has much to learn.

I’ll play the role of master for a few years longer, Philip.

“...Master, is something wrong?”

“Nothing at all. Let’s get moving- that request was from a particularly needy client.”

He rejoined Philip’s side easily, and they made their way back to the Dawn Office as a pair.

Along the way, they chatted about anything and everything; Philip’s new improvements to their techniques, how he had been, what technologies he had missed. The atmosphere between them was markedly improved from how it had been. There was only one missing piece.

That missing piece made itself clear the moment they returned.

Another person was returning to the Dawn Office at the same moment they did, and he could tell that Philip noticed her by the fact that he froze up for a fraction of a moment.

“...Yuna. Did everything go alright with your job?” Salvador asked conversationally after a long moment of silence.

“...Yeah. It was fine. I didn’t know he was back. When did that happen?” Yuna sounded caught off guard, strange for the usually unflappable Fixer.

Philip stepped forward somewhat, his expression settling into something neutral. “I just got back earlier today. It’s good to see you again, seonbae.”

She nodded slowly. “Yeah, good to see you too. Guess the Office is gonna be smelling like ssanghwa-cha again, huh?”

…Yuna. She was the only one who took the news of his promotion in a negative light.

“Philip. I’m going to handle the paperwork for this job. Perhaps you and Yuna ought to talk for a moment, hm? I imagine that you have much you need to catch up on.” Salvador gave them an encouraging smile, ignoring Philip’s somewhat panicked look.

I cannot blame her for her worries. A Color extending an offer for a romantic relationship with another Fixer…it’s rife with potential for a power imbalance, especially within the same Office. It’s very easy to feel pressured into such a situation. Had Philip acted the same way he used to, I imagine he may have even taken advantage of that fact. However, now…I believe he’ll act appropriately.

They ought to sort this out on their own, right now. It’ll never get resolved otherwise.

With little more than a small wave, he shut the door behind him, and with a firm twist, the lock slammed shut.

Sitting down at his desk, Salvador let out a quiet sigh.

It will be truly lively around here in the days to come.

It had been a long while since he last saw Yuna. Philip could still remember the way she looked as she told him to run. The guilt of that moment had eaten into him and nearly driven him crazy back then.

The absence, however, wasn’t enough for him to forget what basic human interactions were like; she was uncomfortable around him, and he had a feeling he knew why.

“You want to walk and talk? It’s been a while since I’ve been in the City. I’d like to see how the Nest has changed, at least,” Philip offered quietly. Yuna nodded after a moment, putting her hands in her pockets and following after him.

It was painfully quiet as they walked. There was a tension to the air, and even though they were right next to each other, it felt like there was a much wider distance between them than there had ever been.

“...You went and became quite a big shot.” Yuna began conversationally.

He gave her a short glance. She was staring ahead, eyes idly looking into the distance, not looking at him at all. “It wasn’t the end goal, just a result. I just kept on trying to get everyone’s books, and I grew strong in the process.”

“Looks like you learned to be humble, too. If I were you, I’d be flaunting that stuff wherever I went,” she joked, her tone somewhat warmer than before.

“Ah- no, it’s not that I’m not proud of it, or that I’m trying to be humble, it’s just…”

This power of mine…at first, I did desperately want it. I wanted to rely on it, and I wanted it to make me special. That was why it was so surprising to me when I was still losing to the other Fixers in the Liu Association, back then. It was hard for me to grasp why I still felt worthless despite my power. Back then, I wasn’t able to find a reason for my existence outside of strength…

“It’s just what?”

He was quiet for a moment, working through his thoughts. “...Being strong doesn’t make me better than other people. It doesn’t free me of the same pitfalls that everyone can fall into. I can still make the same mistakes, still have the same problems, still make the wrong judgments. Even in the Library, even after I awakened my E.G.O, even after I had chosen to grow beyond who I was…I couldn’t be confident. I could only put my faith in someone else unconditionally at the very end. I still have a long way to go, so I can’t get arrogant.”

It was only after he took a few more steps that he realized that Yuna had stopped.

There was a somewhat aggravated look on her face, the same one she got whenever there was a particularly tough problem she needed to chew over for a long while. It usually spelled trouble if she had that expression in the field, but today…

“...Guess there’s no better time for it, huh.”

“...Seonbae?”

She ran a hand through her hair. “Man, this has really been bugging me for a while. I never gave you a proper answer to that confession you gave me back then.”

His eyes went wide. “Ah…there’s really no need-”

She waved a hand, cutting him off, that aggravated look only growing more intense. “Nah, this is something that I’ve wanted to deal with, even before everything. It was rude of me to leave you hanging for so long, anyway.”

It’s not that I don’t want to hear it, but…

“Yuna…”

Before he could say anything else, Yuna steeled herself, staring him dead in the eyes, and spoke with confidence.

“Philip…I’m sorry, but I don’t return your feelings.”

…Ah.

That…stings.

It does hurt to hear, but…it’s not unexpected. In a way, I think I’m actually relieved to hear it. I’m glad she didn’t leave it ambiguous, even if I could tell from the way she was acting.

I still like her. To be honest, somewhere deep inside, there was a part of me that was hoping that the things that I had done would impress her, that she would like me because of my efforts. But…somehow, I think I would be even more hurt by that happening than I am by this outcome. She isn’t someone shallow, and before the Library, I couldn't understand that. I failed to respect her in her entirety, and that was part of why I would never have deserved her, especially if she started a relationship with me out of pity.

“That’s fine, seonbae. Thank you for telling me.” His voice was level, and he could even let a sad smile sprout on his face.

With his words, that aggrieved look melted in something much more relieved. “...Alright. I’m glad. I was worried for a while, to be honest.”

Philip shook his head. “There’s no need to be worried. I'm not the one who can determine what'll make you happy, Yuna. If you truly don’t want to be with me, then I’m not going to push for it. I don’t want to be with someone who has to force themselves to be around me…I don’t want to scramble and fight for your attention. You’re the only one who can choose the person you spend your life with. That’s what I think, at least…”

She was quiet for a long moment, staring at him with a small grin. Eventually, she took a few steps forwards, bridging the gap between them and ruffling his hair. “Heck’s up with that? The kid I knew from before would never have said something like that. Everyone from the Liu were saying that you’d grown up, but I didn’t think it was this drastic.”

…She’s right. Before, I came up with any and every excuse I could think of to rationalize to myself why she hadn’t responded. I even thought that master was being unfaithful to his wife because of it. That sort of mindset was poisonous to me. Without the help and faith of everyone, I doubt I could have grown past it…I would have Distorted for certain.

“Seonbae, that’s enough…” He half-heartedly batted her arm away, and she wrapped her hands behind her head as they continued to walk. When Yuna spoke again, it was a lot more subdued.

“To be honest…the reason why I never answered you before was because I didn’t want things to get awkward around the Office. That old coot really liked having you around, and I didn’t want you to get discouraged just because of me. He always said that you had a lot of potential, but I could tell that you needed to get your head out of your ass first. I’ve seen people do dumb sh*t for love before, and I didn’t want you to get yourself killed trying something stupid to impress me.”

Philip snorted. “I almost did.”

She rolled her eyes in response. “You know what I mean.”

He did, actually. He’d entered the Library hoping to impress her in some way, to weasel a positive answer out of her. Because of his own anxieties, he’d tried to put on a brave front, and when it failed, all that was left was his cowardice. Now, however, he felt certain that he could face her confidently, without any false pretenses, because he had faced that cowardice head on.

…Lowell. You said that I need to treat the people I care for like they’re people. I hadn’t been respecting her thoughts before I met you. This, though…I’m content with it. Even if we’re not in a relationship, she’s still by my side as a trusted friend.

Thank you…for answering my question from that time.

Ah…that reminds me.

“Hey, I haven’t taken lunch yet. You wanna get a bite to eat? There’s this really nice sandwich shop-”

“Lowell’s gotten to you, too? I swear, he’s been dragging everyone up there. But, if it’s on your dime…then sure, we’ll go for a bite.”

“Hey, I don’t remember saying something like that.”

“You’re a Color and still so stingy? Can’t trust anyone these days, huh~” Yuna clicked her tongue at him teasingly, a glint to her eyes.

It was with that energy that the pair of them continued to walk into the City, talking comfortably.

This is comfortable.

I’m…happy. There’s no lingering anxieties within me. I don’t feel inferior, there’s no looming sense that something’s wrong, and there’s no one that I need to fight in order to save the ones I love.

My future feels in my control.

I lost a lot to the Library, but at the same time, I grew a lot because of it.

No, perhaps it would be better to say that it gave me the chance to grow. It showed me a hint of light, and I just needed to take the opportunity to sprout. Either way…

Angela…I hope you’ve found a dawn that’s pleasant to look at.

There will be more jobs for me. I’ll have more work, and there’ll still be people for me to help. But…there’s people by my side, too. People who I can call friends, people who believed in me, people whom I want to see tomorrow with.

I’ll walk towards that tomorrow with my own two feet.

Consider this…my final goodbye to the Library.

I’m leaving that portion of my life behind for good. I hope you can all survive the Outskirts, wherever you are.

“Oi, Philip, you coming, or are you gonna keep on spacing out?” Yuna called from in front of him, giving him an expectant look.

His eyes went wide, and he rushed forward.

“Coming, seonbae!”

…He’d face everything that was to come with confidence.

That was the one thing he could be certain of.

“Hey, Angela, you busy?”

A knock on her door roused Angela from the book she was reading. Closing it shut with a quiet thud, she closed her eyes and let out a quiet sigh. “Come in, Roland.”

Her friend walked into her office with a small bowl in his hands and a small smile on his face. He looked awfully impressed as he sat it down in front of her.

“Remember that bucket list you made?”

She raised an eyebrow at him. There was stew in the bowl, and it smelled quite good. A shame that she wouldn’t be able to taste it. “I do, but may I ask-”

“Before you say anything else, just know that we all came up with this idea. You might not be able to taste it, but we all wanted to try to come up with a way to knock stuff off that list of yours.” Roland interjected, putting his hands in his pockets.

She stared up at him for a small moment, then sighed. “Then I suppose you want me to eat this?”

“Couldn’t hurt, right?” He gave her a wolfish grin.

“...I suppose not.” Swirling the stew around with the spoon, she observed it quietly. “Did you make this?”

“Yep. I’m a big fan of cooking, y’know,” he bragged.

She snorted. “As you’ve made clear.”

Angela felt comfortable being able to joke with him. It was difficult being back in a machine body, but the people within the Library made the experience bearable. Roland especially had been by her side throughout much of the experience. Having such a stalwart friend was comforting in ways she could not verbalize to anyone aside from herself.

Slowly, she brought the spoon to her lips and took a bite.

“So? How is it?” He asked. There was a hint of trepidation on his face, as though he were somehow concerned that she would rate it negatively, despite it being impossible for her to have any opinions as to its taste.

And yet…

Somehow, she felt warm, felt the love within the dish, and even though she could not taste anything at all, it was still far and away the best thing she had ever consumed.

“It’s wonderful,” she responded quietly, allowing a small smile to form on her face.

He pumped his fist, looking exuberant. “Hell yeah! That’s one more off the list. We’re gonna get through ‘em all, Angela, I swear it.”

With his endearing behavior, that small smile grew wider. She was sure she looked silly at the moment, but she couldn’t suppress that smile. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Roland looked equally pleased. “Alright! I’m gonna get to work on the next one. Talk to you again later, Angela!”

With that, he rushed out of her room, almost knocking down a book in the process. She watched him leave, that silly smile refusing to leave her face.

…This is…

…truly wonderful.

Even if my revenge fell flat…I truly believe that it was worth giving up for moments like these.

Even if life is tough, I don’t believe there’s any catharsis I could have gained that would outshine the joy I feel despite the pain.

Roland…thank you. Thank you for forgiving me, and thank you for showing me what friendship can mean.

Caring for another, and being cared for in turn…there’s no greater happiness in this world, is there?

I know that things may eventually change…but I wish to cling to this life as long as I can.

I’ll treasure the moments I have, and the people around me.

Malkuth, Yesod, Hod, Netzach, Tiphereth, Gebura, Chesed, Binah, Hokma, Roland…thank you all.

With the help of all of you…I believe that I can come to treasure the dawn.

I wish to cherish my life, alongside all of you.

And I hope…that you will cherish yourselves alongside me.

Forevermore.

Chapter 11: Epilogue- Beyond the Sunrise

Chapter Text

“Philip! On your left!”

A hand crashed through the nearby building with overwhelming force. Philip didn’t respond to Xiao’s cry; he merely darted back, his wings bringing him into the air to avoid the corrosive substance that the hands carried with them. Beneath him, a blazing deluge of flame flooded where he stood, the roar of a dragon accompanying it as Xiao made up for the gap in their attacks. He wasted no time in darting back to the fray- this opponent was far tougher than most.

It was rare that the Dawn Office was approached to handle a Star of the City directly. Although they had two Colors within their folds, taking down a Star was a task available to anyone who could and would take it. What was even more interesting about this mission was that the client wanted the Star captured alive, in relatively good health- an almost impossibility in most circ*mstances, especially considering the nature of this enemy.

The Chained Zealot. A Star that seemed to attack randomly, appearing in places all across the City without rhyme or reason, leaving without a trace the second it had accomplished whatever odd objective it aimed to complete. Capturing it looked to be an arduous task, and they were certainly far from the first to attempt it. Attempting to hold down the main body and preventing it from fleeing was the hardest part; it seemed disinterested in combat that wasn’t fatal to it, and it was incredibly durable. That was why their client had offered an insane amount of cash to hire two Colors for the job.

The distortion itself was tricky to fight. Two massive hands, connected by chains to a pair of pauldrons and dripping with a corrosive liquid, protected a mechanical body that was covered by a nearly destroyed white cloak. The head of the distortion looked to be an orb that had been unlocked, with a golden clip attaching a long, white ponytail to it. Golden rings floated around its neck and waist, and sitting just below its chest was a single button with a 7 on it. Far from the strangest distortion Philip had ever seen, even beyond the likes of the Reverberation Ensemble. Ugh. He still didn’t like thinking about them, even after all this time.

To be honest, when Philip was approached for the job, he was hesitant. Their client seemed reputable, at least- Limbus Company was relatively new, but they were well-backed and their contract was airtight, leaving them no room to capitalize on him and leaving him very little room to capitalize on them. The only thing that had truly convinced him were the favorable conditions even if they were to fail; the reward would be lowered, but so long as they left significant damage on the distortion, they would still be paid without complaint. The entire City was essentially the distortion’s ‘corridor,’ so there was only so much they could do. So far, that condition was being reached with only a little difficulty.

As Xiao’s ferocious melee with the hands continued, Philip flew forth, aiming for the main body. It needed to be distracted, and frequently, or else the hands grew more and more out of control. It wasn’t anything they couldn’t handle, but it was best to keep the fight within their scope so they didn’t end up destroying too much of the area as they fought. Even now, just with their combined E.G.O and powers, the two of them were essentially bathing this place in flame. Most of the damage dealt to the main body had been done from the heat of their fire alone, and the buildings surrounding them were starting to more closely resemble wax than a place of residence.

One of the hands went down as Philip approached; he could tell from the distressed noise the distortion made and the pulse of light that traveled down the chain. A quick slash of the blade, and that light was cut short- the hand wouldn’t be getting up quite yet.

Only a few feet away now. The body was agile. It avoided most attacks easily.

Most.

Philip’s blade reared back, and he exhaled shortly.

It’s strange. At moments like these, when my heart is thumping the loudest, and when my emotions are thrumming at their peak…I’m the most calm I’ve ever been.

A golden flame roared, and Philip slashed outwards. The second hand fell at that perfect moment, reuniting with the Chained Zealot and leaving it vulnerable. That slash cleaved through the distortion’s defenses, sending it flying from the sheer force behind it. The flame within didn’t stutter at all from the exertion; if anything, it blazed even hotter.

Xiao dashed past him, flame curling around her guandao as she capitalized on the staggered opponent. A dragon of flame engulfed the space in front of her, swallowing up the distortion. Without wasting any time, he joined her in the assault, their weapons battering the opponent with perfect synchronicity. The two E.G.O users were almost unparalleled when working together…but every Star has a trick or two.

With a shuddering burst of strength, a sword appeared above them, glowing with an all-too familiar power.

Wait…this is-!

Philip’s wings encircled him as he jumped backwards, and Xiao immediately followed his lead, leaping away from the enemy. That blade slammed into the ground, a shockwave of corrosive energy rippling outwards. The energy battered his wings ruthlessly.

“Xiao! That attack-”

“I’d rather not remember,” she said with gritted teeth, “but it’s hard to forget.”

Philip was uncomfortably aware of this power. When he had faced the Library in its entirety alongside Roland, they had eventually fought Chesed. That attack was a mainstay in that floor, raining down upon them countless times like it was nothing. Xiao had encountered it when she became a distortion, all the way back then.

“Then this thing…we were right about it reviving from the Library alongside us,” Philip murmured, gritting his teeth. There was only the smallest of lulls in the fight. If they let up now-

“Receive a Prescript…and carry it out…” The distortion, which had been silent up until this point, suddenly let out clicking noises that resembled speech. It was the first attempt at communication it had made so far, although it sounded closer to a typewriter than anything else.

“Did you-” Xiao began, but the distortion interrupted her before she even got the chance to properly speak.

“We all shared one fate. The City willed it to be so. We are all gathered in one place. The City willed it to be so. The will of the City…is what I shall enact. I have received a Prescript to be here today. I cannot return home until I find the angle of the sun on a wet wall.”

“...He’s talking the same gibberish as the Index,” Philip said with a sigh, already feeling a headache coming on. He’d been forced to deal with them from time to time, never in a truly combative sense. Of course, some of them had been ordered to try strange things around him because of their Prescripts or whatever, but it never escalated beyond that. It tended to work out in their favor anyways, which always managed to piss him off.

“The will of the City- what about your will? What is it you want to do?” Xiao’s questioning had grown more insistent, the furrow of her brow beneath her helmet becoming more pronounced. He could almost guess what her thought process was.

“The will of the City is my will. It knows everything- what I am going to do, what you are going to do. There is nothing I can do that it does not know.”

Philip shut his eyes for a short moment. “Xiao. We need to complete our request. Let’s stay focused.”

“But-”

“I know! If we get a chance, we’ll try. But, for now, I don’t think anything we say will get through to him. Once we incapacitate him, we’ll have all the time in the world.” His commands were clear, concise.

Xiao wanted to break this person free from their distortion; that much was obvious. The issue is that neither of them knew anything about who the person was before they distorted- even their gender was only tentatively known to them because of the slightly masculine voice. Finding a path to breaking the distortion usually only occurred if someone had an intense emotional connection with them or knew them extremely well, neither of which could happen in the next thirty seconds. The fight had to end first before anything was done.

Capturing the Zealot was priority number one, no matter what. It was spreading pain and suffering to the City at large. They would’ve needed to go after it eventually regardless; their contract with Limbus Company just gave them an excuse to do so.

Xiao grit her teeth, but raised her weapon. “...Alright. I’ll follow your lead.”

Philip nodded, clenching his teeth. His heart fluttered as he raised his arm, staring down his opponent, and the flame behind him roared even higher. They would finish it here, no matter what. Both of them rushed forward, aiming to disable the weakened distortion-

“...The Prescript’s command becomes clear. The angle is 32.46 degrees. I shall return home.”

And without another word, the distortion began to sink beneath the ground.

Panic soared in him. “Get him!”

Both Colors slashed outwards, the flame billowing and soaring high. But…even though the attacks landed, it wasn’t enough. The distortion, broken and battered, sunk back beneath the ground, vanishing. When the dust finally settled, their opponent was long gone.

“...Damn it,” Xiao grit her teeth.

Philip sighed. “It’s fine. We did our job. Even if I was hoping to capture it here, it’s too much effort to follow it past this point, so we should report it as is. I don’t think we can both reach T-Corp as is, anyways.”

…The angle of the sun on a wet wall…

His eyes wandered around, landing on the nearby buildings.

…The walls were starting to melt from the heat. And, even though it was cloudy, he got the feeling he knew what the ‘sun’ was in this case.

Hah. How annoying.

His E.G.O faded as he sheathed his sword, and Xiao followed his lead. They’d left quite a mess, but the client said that they’d handle the aftermath. He let out an exhausted sigh. There’s a lot I have to do when I get back to the Office. I have no idea how master managed all of this paperwork…

…Well, that would have to be another problem for another time. For now, he just needed to-

-Something changed.

Philip’s sword was out and in his hands in a flash. Xiao’s eyes went wide. “Is something wrong?”

“...My E.G.O. Something just…”

There was no easy way to explain it. The sensation was there and gone in a flash, like someone had come and snatched a very, very small piece of himself and left before he could react. If he wasn’t still on edge after the battle, it would’ve gone completely unnoticed. Nothing seemed to have changed; his E.G.O still came to him in just the same way, and nothing seemed amiss. But, there was still a nagging feeling deep inside, the smallest, most insignificant tugging sensation.

“Whatever it is, it’s not happening to me. Do you think it’s a Singularity?” Xiao’s voice was filled with genuine concern, but he slowly shook his head.

“...I haven’t heard anything about a Singularity that can affect E.G.O. I’m going to investigate this. Xiao, you should go home.”

“Are you certain? You know better than anyone else what charging off alone can do, regardless of how strong you are, Philip,” she said, her words chiding.

He waved a hand. “Whatever this is, it’s not dangerous. Besides, you’ve got a husband and children to go home to. I’m sure they want to see your face- I’ve already taken too much of your time from them.”

The mention of Lowell and her sons (she wanted nine from Lowell, poor man) drew a full stop to whatever argument Xiao was about to present. “...Be careful, then. Return quickly- you’re the leader of the Dawn Office now, so I won’t afford you any slack,”

With her piece said, Xiao turned, rushing away. She would have to travel for quite some time- Colors were banned from Warp trains. The longer she took, the less time she would have to herself. Philip closed his eyes. That faint tugging sensation was still there, still so incredibly unnoticeable that he was certain he would lose track of it if his focus faltered for even a second.

Drawing forth his emotions from the depths of his soul, his E.G.O manifested once more, the wide, white wings spreading far. With a single step off the ground, he took flight. Something within him told him that he had quite the trip ahead of him- and he was correct.

Districts passed by quickly, his wings carrying him far, guided only by a faint sensation within his soul.

An augmented body, aided by E.G.O, goes faster than most people could comprehend. He could cross the massive City in a matter of hours. The only thing that could possibly hold him back was avoiding the Nests- circumnavigating them was the biggest hassle in the trip.

He followed the faint tugging sensation wherever it led him, through multiple different districts. Cutting through the waves of District 21, the laws distant to one who flies above, he found himself approaching somewhere relatively unfamiliar to him.

T-Corp’s District, hm...Haven’t been here in a few years. Only took a few odd jobs here and there in this area. I remember Pamela making fun of me and telling me that I might as well have not lost color at all.

But…I doubt it’s a coincidence that the Chained Zealot’s next stop is in the same place that this sensation is emanating from.

The streets looked desolate from above. Something might have changed for the worse. It wasn’t quite his problem to go poking his nose into, not when problems were left, right, and center in the City. He had his own fair share of woes to deal with. Pointlessly wasting his energy would spread his wings too far, strain him beyond what he could handle. For now, he would just investigate what he could.

Movement was scarce. Trying to find his objective was like looking for a needle in a haystack, even if that tugging sensation was growing ever so slightly stronger. He furrowed his brows as he pushed himself a bit harder, circling some of the large, monochromatic streets.

“...There,” he murmured to himself. A red and black bus was driving down the road haphazardly. He could only see it from above, but for some reason, he was absolutely certain that it was the source of that feeling he was getting.

Angling himself harshly, he landed with a loud impact, standing directly in the path of the bus. They had ten seconds to stop, at most. If not, he would stop the bus for them, regardless of the consequences.

If they wanted to progress, they would have to go through him.

The bus screeched to a halt with a loud squealing noise.

“Verg, there’s a bird in the road,” Charon spoke with a calm voice. Vergilius’ eyes rose, drawn from the photograph in his hands.

The red gaze fell upon the man in the trench coat, approaching the bus. He didn’t respond to Charon’s words- there was nothing that could be said about them. “Charon, you should go to the back of the bus. And…open the doors for our guest before he rips them off.”

She pouted. “Charon wants to vroom-vroom…”

Despite her complaints, she did as he said, heading towards the back and sitting in one of the seats that the Sinners normally occupied. She looked terribly bored, but there was nothing that could be done about it for the moment. She would have to endure it until he chased that man off.

Letting out a groan, Vergilius stood, planting himself firmly in the middle of the aisle of the bus. His hand went to his gladius, although he didn’t pull it- a fight would be far from in his favor here. As willing as he was to kill or be killed, Dante would be quite hopeless without his guide.

One step, then another; their guest entered the bus without much fanfare at all. It was far from the explosive entrance he was expecting, but the look on his face didn’t exactly assuage Vergilius’ worries.

Wind-swept hair and a trench coat proudly emblazoned with moonlight stone and enough discrete protective workshop gear to fund an entire Office. Beneath it was a black reinforced suit, likely the best that money could buy. Just breaking through that clothing with a single strike would be nigh-impossible. On the man’s hip sat an intricate sword, commissioned by the Liu to hold and emit as much flame as possible. It was far different from Vergilius’ gladius, which was meant to be superheated to cauterize; no, that weapon was meant to char and burn, to ignite a flame until nothing remained but ash. Had he not known better, he would say that this man was the director of the Liu. Vergilius was far from ignorant about their guest, however.

The Golden Dawn met the glare of the Red Gaze easily, and for one almost irreplicable moment, the bus was totally, entirely silent.

“...Seems like things are more serious than I thought if you’re here…Vergilius, the Red Gaze. Tell me what the hell is going on here.”

The Golden Dawn- Philip- wasn’t well known to him. The two had never worked together in any capacity. In fact, there were only two things that he knew about the other Color that mattered. One- the man was the last person to fall to the Library. And two- the Golden Dawn was widely considered to be nearly unkillable in single combat, specializing in battle entirely and growing stronger with each passing day.

“...I could ask you the same question. You’re the one breaking into our bus.”

“Don’t play dumb. There’s something here that’s interfered with my E.G.O. I’m perfectly willing to smash it all if you don’t have a good explanation for me.”

Interfered with…hm. That’s a problem. The third Walpurgis Night…

His hand clenched somewhat tight around his gladius. Philip’s eyes narrowed, his glare intensifying. From the back, Charon watched in quiet, contemplative silence.

…And then, the backdoor to the bus opened, and thirteen people began spilling their way out into the main corridor of the bus.

“S.H.I.T. We were getting far.” Ryoshu’s voice was the first to lodge a complaint, and Vergilius grit his teeth as Philip’s grip on his sword only grew tighter.

“Oi, bus girlie, why’d we- oh, you’re back here,” Gregor, timely as always, managed to make an inane comment.

“Oh, my, it’s rare to see our guide standing in the aisle without a reason. Is something going on? You look very worried.” Hong Lu’s casual commentary was both unnecessary and unwanted.

When Vergilius didn’t respond, however, the Sinners seemed to rapidly realize that something was wrong. The ticking of the clock was the only thing that broke the silence.

“Dante is stating that we departed from the suppression of the Fairy Festival early to investigate why the bus was stopped. They also wish to know if you are acquainted with that man,” Faust explained quietly, her eyes trained on Philip.

“...Don’t get-” Vergilius began to say.

Unfortunately, there was one thing he had forgotten to account for.

“D-D-D-DOTH MINE EYES DECEIVE ME? A m-most illustrious Color has arrived! Many thanks for stopping the bus for such an occasion, Sir Vergilius! Ah, most esteemed Golden Dawn, may I request-” Don Quixote’s ramblings were, unfortunately, what appeared to be the last straw. She bumped past Vergilius, fumbling with her numerous pins and hunting for a pen.

It was only by grabbing the back of her coat that he managed to keep her from impaling herself on the Golden Dawn’s blade, now pointed at them.

The mood in the bus plummeted. Even without looking, he knew exactly what expressions the Sinners wore.

“A-Ah, hey, why don’t we talk about this, yeah? I’m sure this is nothing that some good food or a round of booze can’t solve,” Rodion said, making a feeble attempt at dissolving the tension. Don Quixote's expression had gone from ecstatic to completely lost as he yanked her behind him.

Meursault clicked his tongue. “It is statistically unlikely that such a thing is possible. Judging from his expression and his willingness to kill, we have likely wronged him in a way that we are unaware of. Heathcliff, have you-”

“Sod off! For the last time, I haven’t stolen anyone else’s bloody coupons! From the looks of ‘im, the bloke doesn’t even use ‘em!”

“Don’t think this is the time to be insulting him, Heathcliff,” Ishmael said with a strained laugh.

Ryoshu lit a cigarette, saying nothing as she glared at the Color.

“I-I’m sure we’ll be fine, right? I mean, we have mister Vergilius here, so he’s probably not going to do anything…” Sinclair whispered under his breath, most likely trying to soothe himself.

“Cease your spineless whining! If we don’t stand up for ourselves, we’re nothing better than dead weight,” Outis said, scolding him. Well, she was better put together than the rest, but considering their sorry states, that wasn’t saying much.

“...Before any of us partake in any rash action, may I ask that you explain your grievance with us? If we have troubled you, then we shall do our best to remedy that,” Yi Sang was the least useless of the Sinners, stepping forth and attempting diplomacy.

“Vergilius. I’m still waiting for your answer.” Philip’s voice had hardened considerably.

“...A-Ah. It seems I have been ignored,” Yi Sang bemoaned pitifully.

Vergilius sighed. “There’s nothing I can tell you. Do you want me to beg and grovel for your forgiveness? If that’s what you’re after, then you’ll have to try another day.”

The bus was dead silent for a fraction of a moment.

And then, the blades of two Colors met, and the temperature of the bus spiked in an instant.

Dante’s clock made a noise resembling a train whistle as they frantically pulled out their tablet and began assigning Identities, for what little help they would be. Charon let out a sigh as the Sinners began to immediately cause a ruckus. “Charon doesn’t like the heat. Verg, Charon wants ice cream.”

Vergilius didn’t respond, too busy trying to force the fight outside. Dante had to survive, no matter what, and one errant gout of flame from the Golden Dawn would cook them alive. Even if it put him at a disadvantage, Vergilius didn’t care- this wasn’t a fight he had to win right now, and escalation would only hurt both of them.

He brought his memories back, remembering the times that came before, remembering the orphanage…and with it came Shin and Mang, the power of sin. Rings of light encircled his Gladius, and he struck out towards Philip. The Golden Dawn was forced back a step, but pushed back with ferocity, rings of light encircling his own blade. Hm. Seems he was capable of harnessing the Light as well. The Indigo Elder could harness that power as well, so perhaps it wasn’t too surprising that someone who had visited the Library personally was capable of it. Even a single step mattered in this fight, however.

What he knew about the Golden Dawn was that he used flame, and he was perfectly capable of manifesting E.G.O just like Vergilius was. It was a boon that both of them had chosen not to do so just yet; Vergilius could very easily run dry of blood in a fight against someone with fire this powerful.

In the few seconds where the two Colors clashed blades, Dante had apparently chosen the last configuration of Identities they had been using in the Mirror Dungeon, because a wholly useless lineup of fighters from the Liu now stood at the ready, alongside something new.

Sinclair stood in a new Identity, one which Vergilius had not seen yet. Dante had pulled some out of the engine not long ago at all after the third Walpurgis Night started, beginning their suppression of the Fairy Festival almost immediately. That Identity had a wax wing, with half-hearted armor trailing up his left arm towards a core of flame. A sword, superheated and bursting from inside, hung from his left hand, and Sinclair struck out, a burning deluge of flame filling the air, a powerful blazing strike arcing towards them.

The weapon landed uselessly against Philip’s arm. The fire faded, the force dispersed, and with a sharp backhand, Sinclair was sent flying to the back of the bus, slamming into the back door. Dante let out a panicked trill as the Sinner flew right past their head. Were the situation not so dire, he would’ve found the expression on Sinclair’s face humorous.

Vergilius pushed back fiercely, scoring a harsh line across the Golden Dawn’s cheek. Philip disengaged, however, lowering the pressure for the first time during the scuffle. The Sinners watched warily, all of them standing behind Vergilius in some manner. His arm throbbed- at some point, he’d been burned. In front of his very eyes, Philip’s wound began to heal, slowly closing on its own despite the heat of the Gladius typically cauterizing immediately. An augmentation? K-Corp’s HP Bullets?

With one hand, Philip swept the hair from his eyes, his glare only intensifying. The Sinners were preparing to defend themselves, although the sheer heat of the opponent would be enough to kill them. “...That’s it. That’s where that feeling’s coming from. The Red Gaze…what the hell have you done?”

After a long moment, he sighed. “I can’t take the blame for this one. The mirror technology is-”

“SIR ILLUSTRIOUS COLOR WE SINCERELY APOLOGIZE!” Don Quixote immediately prostrated herself on the ground in between them, cutting him off with a mournful wail.

His glare intensified. “Don Quixote, that’s the second time you’ve interrupted me today.”

“...Do you even know what you’re apologizing for?” The Golden Dawn’s voice was cold, but it wasn’t actively threatening like it was earlier. Vergilius didn’t let go of his weapon, but some of the tension in his shoulders eased. The Sinners behind him were dead quiet- a glare kept it that way.

“W-We hath unknowingly treaded upon thine past strength! I have studied thine origins as a fan, but I unfortunately did not recognize thy power! I beg of thee, please do not punish our Manager Esquire, for they did so with a heart of justice and ignorance in their actions!! Had I known that my good friend Sinclair would be bestowed with such an Identity, then-”

“That’s enough.” The Golden Dawn’s command was absolute, a look of annoyance crossing his face. Don Quixote went quiet, still prostrating.

Faust stepped forwards tentatively, her eyes cast to the side. “Faust would like to offer an explanation. I believe it will ease this situation.”

Philip’s eyes snapped to Vergilius, and he merely nodded in response. The Color let out a sigh. “Go ahead. It’s not my first time experiencing faulty tech.”

“It isn’t…faulty. Faust does not create faulty technology. This is merely a rare occurrence. Using the technology of the glass mirror, developed by Yi Sang, we may glimpse into a myriad of possible mirror worlds which contain infinite possibilities and, using something known as Lunacy, borrow, or in other words, extract, one of those many possibilities, overwriting our current existence with that of theirs temporarily. This is typically limited to the few years surrounding our current time; however, during a period known as Walpurgis Night, the range in which Identities can be extracted broadens dramatically. It appears as though Dante extracted an Identity that correlates to your time in the Library, directly borrowing from your past. It shall not affect your fighting strength, so there is no need for concern. You are the most powerful person we have extracted any such Identity from, and as such, Faust believes that you were capable of detecting the refraction of the mirror, likely because of your access to a completely realized E.G.O and close attenuation with the Light. The sensation should fade shortly enough- Faust had intended to alter the engine to minimize the chances of such an occurrence regardless. Furthermore-”

“Miss Faust. I believe that should be enough for the explanations,” Vergilius interjected wearily.

“Agreed,” Philip commented absentmindedly, his brows still furrowed in thought.

Vergilius heaved a sigh.

Yi Sang’s eyes shifted uncomfortably. “I apologize if my mirror has caused discomfort. However…please do not take that out on my fellows.”

For a moment, Philip merely stared at Sinclair, the expression on his face serious. The boy almost shriveled under the scrutiny.

“...It brings back bad memories. Most people don’t like reliving the worst parts of their past. But, at the same time, I made the decision to move on a long time ago. So long as this doesn’t interfere with my work, then I’m fine with you using it as you please.”

With that, he sheathed his sword, and both the temperature and tension of the bus cooled.

Gregor let out a stressed laugh. “Ha. Haha. Nearly gave a guy a heart attack, there.”

“A guy, huh? Aren’t you a bug?” Philip’s expression stayed serious despite the light jab, and Vergilius’ lips turned up in a wry smile. He sheathed his Gladius, his heart calming.

“Don’t bully the poor man, now. He’s quite sensitive.”

“Feels like you’re bullying me just by saying that, guide bud…” Gregor said, his teeth leaving indents in his cigarette.

Dante made a few subdued noises, fiddling with his tablet once more. The Identities that the Sinners had been given vanished, and they could relax once more.

Something about that seemed to calm them down fully, and some more casual chatter started up. Philip leaned against the driver’s seat, watching them all move with a weary look. Vergilius went and sat back down, leaning back and staring outside at the dull streets. As the Sinners took to their seats once again and Charon made her way to the driver’s seat, Philip spoke once more, keeping it quiet so only Vergilius could hear. “Sorry for being hostile.”

It was curt, but sincere. That was enough for him. “You had a good enough reason. Giving those kids a fright was amusing enough for me to forgive you. Unfortunately, we’re on a tight schedule. Are you going to loiter on our bus for much longer?”

The Golden Dawn glanced forward. “...This bus is owned by Limbus Company, isn’t it? I think I saw their logo when I was coming down. Xiao- er, the Vermilion Dragon and I were contracted by them to capture the Chained Zealot. I could leave it as is, but…I want to try and finish the job. She wanted to try to help that distortion, and with the way this has shaped up, I think I’ll get my chance soon. So, do you mind if I stay on the bus for a few hours?”

Contracted by Limbus Company, hm.

“Well, who am I to deny the wishes of the ‘illustrious’ Golden Dawn? Just leave those kids to their own devices if they have to fight. Trust me, they’re more resilient than you’d think.”

A snort was his only answer. The other Color went quiet as Charon plopped herself down in the driver’s seat. “Verg. Charon wants ice cream.”

“I’ll get you some as soon as-”

“You promised.”

He made no such promise, but he held his tongue. If Charon wanted ice cream, then she would get ice cream.

Sheepishly, one of the Sinners- the usual suspect- approached Philip. Don Quixote still had sparkles in her eyes, despite the fight that had almost broken out.

“M-my apologies for the interruption, sir, b-but could I mayhaps make a request?” Her quivering words might’ve been mistaken for fear if he didn’t know exactly what that expression meant.

Philip didn’t say anything, merely gesturing for her to go on. Don Quixote was practically vibrating in excitement at this point.

“T’would be a great honor if I could be bequeathed with an autograph from yours truly! Verily, many have hunted for opportunities such as this, and I-”

“Sure, that’s fine. Here, give me what you want me to sign.”

As Don Quixote suppressed a squeal and brought out one of her many articles of Fixer merchandise, surely as limited-edition as the rest, Vergilius took the lull in activity to inspect Philip. The man looked weary, and yet…there was still something bright about his presence. Despite the way he had acted thus far, there was a faint smile on his face, as though that joy was a default emotion for him. He seemed like a person whose color was well-defined, who had chosen that brightness and made his own flow until the end. Perhaps his youth was what allowed that. Manifesting E.G.O and becoming a Color at only the age of twenty-four was far from attainable for most. People have killed and experimented on others for having a quarter of that potential, and in the years since the Library, he’d only gained more prestige. It was a surprise that N-Corp hadn't approached him yet.

…There was a small smile on the Golden Dawn’s face as Don Quixote ran back to her seat, cheering all the while. Vergilius stared at that for a long moment.

“You’ve been to the Library.” The words were more observational than anything. There was much more that he wanted to ask, but some things were better left unsaid for the moment, where they may be overheard by anyone and everyone.

No real expression crossed Philip’s face. Maybe it could be said that he looked sad, for a fleeting second. The humming of the bus was the only thing that filled the air during that moment of silence.

“Yeah, I have. That was years ago. That experience…it broke me down and forced me to rebuild myself.”

“You’re doing much better than most who’ve left those walls.”

“...I haven’t thought about it much since. I’m more concerned with the road in front of me. I won’t forget it, but I won’t allow myself to dwell on it. That’s the way I’ve chosen to live my life. I won’t be bogged down by the pains of the past or the fear of the future. I just need to calmly accept them both, and the path through today will become clear.” Philip’s voice was calm, clear. A faint hint of nostalgia crossed his face for a moment.

“Then, that Identity…”

“...Back then, sorrow was my indelible stigma. I was overwhelmed by my emotions, unable to keep my cool. Accepting that sorrow, stoking the flames of my emotions…it made me stronger, but it didn’t make me better. Despite my strength, I failed, again and again, and I was unable to mature. That’s why that E.G.O is unstable. Even once I chose to accept my pain and accept my flaws, it was incomplete. My life wasn’t my own; it was still dictated by my wild, swinging thoughts and my own pathetic nature. It was only at the end of it all, after I had lost everything that had mattered to me and was pushed to the absolute brink, that I began to claw my way forwards, one step at a time. It was terrible, and so, so difficult. If he’s anything like me, then keep an eye on that boy, Vergilius. The only reason I made it here at all was because of endless, overflowing support from those around me.”

Philip’s quiet speech was solemn, and the look he held would have been incomprehensible to anyone who hadn’t reached that same conclusion, to anyone who hadn’t felt the depths of emotion that he was describing. Vergilius tried to crack a smile, letting out a deep hum. “Sinclair…he’s young and naive. He still hasn’t adjusted. But, if he’s anything like you, then he might become someone worth looking up to. ”

A snort. “I’m not quite the good man that the newspapers make me out to be. I still don’t understand the reason for the adoring eyes, and I still don’t feel like I deserve the praise I get. I’ve done what I can, what I think needs to be done, and that’s all. A true hero…that’s something that I’ll never be. That title is reserved for the people who can truly save others, for the people who go out of their way to make the world they live in a bright place. But…”

“...The person you’re describing doesn’t exist in the City. And…doing what you can is more than most people could ever be bothered to do.” The words were comforting, as much as they could be. He wasn’t very good at that, nowadays. His thoughts had oft been elsewhere.

“...Maybe so. I’ve learned to be content with myself. I don’t punish myself for not meeting those standards, but there’s no reason to avoid trying to reach them. The desire to grow, to fly free…that’s what’s been driving me this far. I know I can still become someone better, so I’m going to continue on as I am.” Philip’s form seemed unusually small as he stood, arms crossed, staring out the front window of the bus as it chugged down the road.

“...Everyone has their own dreams and wishes. Even in myriad worlds, we all want to reach for something. That dream of yours…I’ve met Colors with worse ideals than yours.”

Philip was quiet for a moment, his eyes distant. “Yeah, same here. If there’s anyone I wish I could’ve avoided, there’s…the Purple Tear, maybe. The only other ones I’ve had bad experiences with are either dead or long gone now.”

“...The Purple Tear, hm.” Vergilius’ voice was quiet, his gaze landing squarely on the other Color.

“Old hag managed to find a way to be a bitch even when she was a book,” Philip lamented jokingly, a small smile growing on his face.

Vergilius remained silent. There was nothing he could say without directly exposing his thoughts on the matter; in the end, that was what finally trailed their conversation to a halt. There was no reason to go into his past, regardless of how forthcoming their guest had been so far.

The pair of them were silent for a long, long while; the kind of silence that one learns to appreciate after a life of hardship. Perhaps that silence was a way of speaking in and of itself, a mutual respite from the stress of the City and all the loss and carnage that came with it.

All he knew was that it was much appreciated, and as the sun began to go down, he found himself accepting the other man’s presence a marginal amount more.

Philip wasn’t quite sure what to think of the Red Gaze.

Vergilius was a taciturn man, capable of making jokes but reserved, not telling much about himself. It wasn’t something he would push for, however. Everyone deserves their own secrets. There was plenty that Philip hadn’t told the other man, but he had said enough to justify his attack. So long as there were no hard feelings, then all’s well that ends well.

The Sinners- Vergilius’ coworkers- had all approached Philip at some point, each of them looking to talk about something or other. Advice, tactics, or even just a small chat. Their manager had talked to him using the one named Faust as an intermediary, mostly looking for help on how to be a better leader. That had been a hard question to answer; he barely knew how he was doing it himself. Leading by example and distinguishing himself was the way Philip led, but Dante didn’t have that option. Eventually, he’d settled on just telling them to be more certain in themselves, because a leader who couldn’t even have any esteem for themselves wouldn’t earn esteem from their peers.

At some point in the day, as the sun began to set, Dante stood, their clock ticking, and the Sinners stood, all of them making the last of their idle chatter. One by one, they made their way through the back door of the bus, and Charon eventually pulled it to a stop.

“...I should take my leave. I can’t be away from the Dawn Office for too long, and I need to get a move on if I want to catch the Chained Zealot,” Philip said, standing with a stretch. Next to him, Vergilius hummed.

“Hm…well, I wish you all the best. Limbus Company can be quite restrictive. Even I can’t act as I please. Why, this is my only free time, and even then, I have to act in the company’s interests if I want to do anything.” Vergilius’ expression was stern, although there was the faintest hint of a smile on his face.

There’s no way. “Are you offering…”

“Offering? I’m not the type to work for free. If you want something from me, you have to offer something of equal value.” That gaze fell upon Philip again, and he suppressed the small shiver that came from it.

“Hah. What are you after, then? I’m sure you don’t need money. Information?” There was only so much he knew. It wasn’t like he knew about any Singularities. Some people have tried to prod him for information on E.G.O and distortions, but that would obviously be useless for Vergilius.

“I suppose you could call it a…personal interest, unrelated to my work. If you know about the person I’m looking for, then I’ll give you my aid, just this once.”

“...My Office has experience with tracking down people scattered around the City. If I can, then I’ll help you.”

The bus was quiet for a moment as Vergilius stared at him.

“I’m looking…for a man named Roland.”

Philip’s lips turned downwards in a frown.

…Roland.

It’s been a while since I’ve heard any mention of him. According to Xiao and Lowell, he went back and saved Angela. The last I saw of him was when he just started to fight Binah.

I don’t know how Vergilius knows him. I don’t really care, either; it’s none of my business. But…I might as well help him.

“If you’re looking for the Black Silence, then…he’s in the Outskirts, at the Library. From what I understand, he was working under the director of the Library to resolve a grudge. I doubt you’ll ever see him again unless you go to him yourself.”

Vergilius’ eyes went wide for a moment before he looked down. He was quiet, not saying a word in response. Philip gave him that time.

“I…see. Thank you,” he muttered. When Vergilius raised his head once more, that same mask of indifference was back, the emotions compartmentalized. The Red Gaze stood with a small sigh, giving him a tired look. “Shall we, then?”

Slowly, Philip nodded. Charon, who sat in the driver’s seat, was staring at them with a neutral expression. “Verg.”

Vergilius looked at her for a long moment, a complicated look on his face. The emotion there could have been either nostalgia or a quiet solitude. “It’s alright, Charon. I won’t lose anything by doing this. Stay on the bus, and go wake Dante if something happens. I won’t be gone long.”

Charon was quiet, a small pout forming on her face. “...Okay. Charon won’t go vroom-vroom.”

A small smile crossed Vergilius’ face. “Thank you.”

With that, the pair of them stepped off the bus, and Vergilius’ gaze turned to Philip.

“You must have some way of finding the Zealot. I’m not interested in wandering around the streets of T-Corp’s districts for hours on end, and I won’t appreciate it if you waste my time.”

Philip nodded. “Limbus Company didn’t exactly offer me a play-by-play on where it’s shown up. I had to get that information on my own, but it wasn’t impossible; the people in my Office are more than capable. It is a coincidence, but that distortion is meant to show up around here next.”

Vergilius grunted. “Coincidence, hm…I wonder about that. I suppose we’ll follow the flow for now.”

He shot the other man a glance. It seemed strange to me as well. If Cecil and Mei could track down the patterns of the Zealot, then surely the client could have done so, especially with how well-connected they are. I can’t help but feel as though my meeting with Vergilius was intentional…but to what end?

Saying those words, however, would be to condemn both of them. A mutual understanding was plenty. An understanding that their mutual client wasn’t exactly something trustworthy, and even if it was in their best interests to play along with each other for now, it wasn’t exactly a friendship that could last forever.

The two of them set out as they were, with no further words or preparation needed. In the Backstreets of any district, regardless of where you found yourselves, you were opening yourself up to danger just by walking outside, but there were no such encounters as the two Colors walked through the streets. He didn’t know whether it was because his face had become well-known or if it was because the red gaze paralyzed anyone it landed on, but they weren’t harassed a single time. Philip’s hands were in his pockets as they moved towards their destination.

His mind was whirling with thoughts as they got closer and closer to where Cecil and Mei projected the Zealot would appear next. Absent-mindedly, he began to speak. “The distortion is a Star of the City, although you’re already well aware of that. We need to capture it alive and with most of its body still intact. The Vermilion Dragon and I managed to wound it heavily, but it managed to retreat. It may have healed already. Don’t be surprised if…”

His voice trailed off as he pulled to a stop. Vergilius, behind him, let out a tired hum.

“...It appears our prey has found us.”

In the street ahead of them, the Chained Zealot rose from the ground. Its form, once broken and battered, now looked marginally fixed, as though someone had enacted a slapstick repair on a machine. There was nothing particularly special about this battleground- it was a typical road on a typical city street, deserted save for them. Not a single soul moved.

“Receive a Prescript…and carry it out…”

Philip unsheathed his blade. At his side, Vergilius did the same, standing lax. He decided to humor the distortion, if only to figure out how to keep it around longer. “What does it tell you to do?”

“...I cannot return home…until Yan Vismok finds yellow from a sea of red.”

Cryptic as ever, with a name that means nothing to me. Who the hell is Yan Vismok? A civilian around this area? And that riddle, does it have something to do with our Colors? Whatever it is, we shouldn’t let that distortion complete its mission and get away a second time.

Vergilius’ blade began to glow a bright red. “I’m more well-versed with the Ring’s form of nonsense than the Index’s. Making sense of a vague Prescript is beyond me, and I’m not interested in trying to figure it out. Since this is eating into my free time, shall we make this quick?”

Flame began to rise as Philip reared his blade back, pointing it at the opponent. It was difficult to avoid drawing too deeply into his emotions for more strength, as had become so custom to him- utilizing the Light was second nature to him, so to deny that to keep the opponent alive required conscious effort. “Let’s work together well, shall we?”

With a spark of flame against the ground, he burst forward, Vergilius dashing at his side. Two hands flew towards them, both dripping with corrosive liquid, and with a blazing strike, he engaged one of them, overwhelming the left hand’s attack. The Red Gaze took the other hand with ease, cutting through the battered opponent’s attack and slicing through the liquid.

“Both hands need to go down before we can attack it properly!”

“Never a straightforward battle.”

With perfect synchronicity, the pair fought their way forwards, taking and retreating steps when necessary. They covered for each other, intercepting attacks from the hands and cutting them down one step at a time. Despite the muted colors of T-Corp’s District and the rising moon, this battle was bright as day, flame illuminating the street with every passing second, drowning out the darkness.

But…the longer this took, the worse off they would be.

Philip blocked an attack from the hand, rearing his leg back. With one fluid, overwhelming movement, he burst forward, his blade exploding into golden flame as he dashed through the hand. Behind him, an explosion of fire erupted, appearing as though it were the break of dawn.

Thanks for the help with that technique, master.

The hand fell, and behind him, Vergilius grunted. Rings of light formed around his gladius, and with one overwhelming strike, he cut through the other hand. The Chained Zealot let out a groaning noise as it reunited with its hands, and Philip let out a short sigh, his breath turning to steam from the heat surrounding him.

Philip closed his eyes, focusing for the shortest of moments…and when he opened them, his E.G.O had come to him, responding to his emotions. Two white wings spread wide across his back, and a golden halo formed above his head.

Vergilius let out a humming noise. “Hm…it’s my first time seeing your E.G.O. It must be something impressive if you’ve come this far.”

“I won’t lie and claim that it’s not been helpful,” Philip said shortly, rearing his blade back to prepare to attack, “but my strength comes from myself. All that this E.G.O will ever be…is my will to stand up straight manifested.”

With a kick, he flew, his blade swinging in a wide arc as he sliced outwards towards the Chained Zealot. Its hands clenched tightly around it, attempting to endure the attacks coming its way. His blade, heated to an insane degree, sliced through the guarding hands to strike at the core of the distortion, leaving enough space for Vergilius to flawlessly come in and launch his own attacks.

Together, they battered the weakened opponent. Philip kept a close eye on what was going on- any time now…

He felt the rumblings of power before he felt their ramifications. The ground shook, and his eyes shot up. Vergilius followed his lead…

…but that turned out to be a mistake.

The distorted blade didn’t come from above this time- no, this time, the massive blade was coming from below. Philip, who was flying in the air, would’ve been relatively safe, but Vergilius had no such ways of immediately protecting himself. The blade was poised to cut straight through him.

Philip was moving before he knew it, flying towards Vergilius and slamming his shoulder into the other Color’s chest. The blow sent him flying, and just in time- a terrible, immense pain filled him as the distorted blade rammed straight through Philip’s body. Blood erupted from his mouth as he hung in the air for a moment before the blade vanished and he fell to the ground like a sack of rocks.

As Vergilius quickly recovered, he locked eyes with Philip, his expression going from incredulous to…maybe sorrowful? It was hard for him to see with his blurry vision.

Philip’s E.G.O activated in short order, the melting of his body ceasing and the pain vanishing in less than a second. He let out a short sigh from the small dwindling of energy he felt, but he still kicked off the ground, going from prone to airborne with one burst of power.

Vergilius let out a tired hum as the hands burst forth from the main body of the Zealot once more. “I was wondering where you got your reputation from. I suppose this is the source of it, hm? I’m still unaccustomed to seeing death like that, so for the sake of my poor old heart, don’t get impaled again.”

Despite Vergilius’ incredibly mocking tone, Philip didn’t feel slighted. He should’ve avoided it and left the Red Gaze to his own devices, but it was better for him, who knew the nature of the attack, to take it head-on instead of his ally. It didn’t matter, though- he was well-accustomed to pain and in his experience, watching allies take hits tended to rouse the emotions of those he fought alongside.

“If you don’t want either of us to get hurt, then you might want to start taking this a bit more seriously,” Philip shouted, working hard to be heard above the din of battle as he clashed with a hand once more.

“...I suppose there’s no point in holding back in a situation such as this, hm?”

…And, with that, Vergilius reared his blade back, and Philip could feel rather than see the change.

Philip had fought alongside a great number of people at this point in his life. With master and Oscar’s retirements, his Office had nine other people in it aside from himself. Of those, Xiao was still the only one to have manifested E.G.O. From the times they’ve worked together and from what the others have said, one thing was clear- there was a certain palpable strength to those who had manifested it properly. When they moved, the world moved around them; their will became reality, and with it, reality bent to their will. Of course, Philip was living proof that E.G.O wasn’t what made someone strong, and he had faced people whose E.G.O had effloresced, but Vergilius was on an entirely different level compared to them. He gave Philip the same exact sensation that he felt when he fought alongside Xiao- a quiet strength that seared you to the core just by being in their presence.

The blood that had shed from both the distortion and from Philip himself converged around Vergilius, and from his head, a crown of thorns appeared, digging deeply into his skull. Blood flowed freely from his head, and behind him, a cloak of that blood formed. Vergilius’ red eyes seemed to be dripping with a deep sorrow, and when he struck outwards with his sword, the blood moved and flowed with him.

He couldn’t afford to watch the Red Gaze forever- the hand clipped him and drew his attention away. Once more, he was forced to engage the Star of the City, moving on the defense.

For the second time that day, two Colors with fully manifested E.G.O fought against the Chained Zealot- and no distortion could hold out forever.

“Vergilius! Your E.G.O is draining your blood, isn’t it?” Philip called out.

“Well, it’s not coming from nowhere, is it?”

“...Then, let me help you.”

I burned myself to the ground just to keep up with the Liu, and to keep up with my expectations for myself. Vergilius is doing the same for reasons I don’t know. That’s merely…who he is. It’s not something that needs to, or even can, be changed. But, for now, I can keep him healthy. No matter what, his body won’t run dry so long as I’m here.

The golden halo formed over Vergilius’ head, and a critical look was sent his way. There was a small, persistent drain to Philip’s stamina, the same as if he was taking a jog.

“...That’s quite the handy trick you have. I’ll end this quickly, then.”

The Red Gaze stepped forward, and from his head ceased an unending deluge of blood. Despite the pain he must have felt, despite the agony that he was surely in, he continued to walk. Even as that blood pooled, boiled in the heat and filled the air with an intense cloying smell, forming a veritable sea of muted red, Vergilius walked on.

And, when he finally struck, it was with unimaginable force.

The Chained Zealot’s hands couldn’t even begin to touch him. The Star of the City could flail as it wished, corroding and washing away gallons and gallons of blood- it would merely be replaced in a matter of moments. The second a hand even came close to grazing him, Vergilius would sink beneath that sea, reemerging only to strike with terrible, incredible power, the blood moving according to his will and piercing, striking, bashing the opponent as he wished.

Philip’s wings fluttered as he stayed above the battlefield. To be perfectly honest, interfering at this point would only bring trouble to both of them. To draw closer was to burn away Vergilius’ blood from the heat that surrounded him, and to attack was to waste energy that would be better spent merely allowing his partner to fight as he wished.

Both hands went down in extremely short order, countless spears of blood impaling them to the floor. Before they could even reunite with the main body, Vergilius had moved, hundreds of chains of blood encasing the target. The distortion struggled for only a moment before becoming completely still.

…The suppression of the Chained Zealot was complete.

With that, Vergilius rose from the sea of blood, casting a glance up to Philip. “That should suffice, wouldn’t you say? Limbus Company is quite picky about their methods, but I’ve stayed within the lines.”

Philip landed, bringing his halo back to himself. There was no longer a reason to continue to spur Vergilius on. “Thank you for the help. It would’ve been much more of a hassle without you.”

He strode forward, approaching the captured Star of the City. It made a weak and feeble noise, and for the longest moment, he merely stared at it. Up close, he could see the many lines of scars that zigzagged across its form. How long had he been fighting? How many battles had he endured?

This person…they also entered the Library and ended up distorting. I wonder what drove him to that length, what Carmen said that ended up breaking him…I wonder if he can be saved.

…No matter what…I think the decision I’ve made is the correct one.

…And then, soldiers in black uniforms began to approach from behind them, a small group that appeared to be made of a dedicated force. The only color on their entire figure came from a singular yellow light that shone from the center of a black mask. Philip wasn’t sure when they had gotten there or if they had been watching the fight all along, but he kept a wary eye on them as they began to walk closer.

“Orders. Suppression of target confirmed. Commencing extraction,” one of the people said. Philip let out a sigh.

“Should I be concerned?” He asked warily as the group walked closer.

Vergilius hummed. “They’re members of the LCA. I suppose we’re distant coworkers.”

LCA…took them long enough.

Now…my contract is fulfilled.

Philip swung his blade towards the approaching employees, and a wall of flame erupted forth, creating a clear dividing line between them and him. They immediately took several steps backwards, their heads swiveling to him in jarring unison. He let out a small sigh.

The Red Gaze’s glare grew fierce.

“Sorry for this one, Vergilius, but I never planned on giving this guy over to Limbus Company.”

“...Then what was the point of this entire farce?” The Red Gaze looked genuinely angry, the blood around him shifting. Philip couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment.

“The Chained Zealot was churned up and spit out by the Library, the same way I was. Angela…to me, she wasn’t a good person, but she did her part in cleaning up her act. I ought to at least follow through on reversing the damage that the Library did to the City. Maybe I’m being sentimental, and maybe it’s nostalgia, but either way, I’m not handing anyone over to a faceless company for them to do who knows what to him.” He met the gaze, standing up straight, his sword levied outwards as the warm, golden flame surrounding him glowed even brighter. The last of the blood that chained the Zealot to the ground evaporated, and yet, it took no action, merely hovering in place and observing the situation.

Finally, the people with the black masks spoke. “Orders. Relay that this course of action shall break your contract.”

His lips curled up in a smile. “Actually, it’ll do no such thing. The contract stipulated exactly that I needed to capture the Chained Zealot alive and in good health, and that I needed to wait for the arrival of the LCA. There was nothing within the contract that stated that I needed to hand him over to you. I’ll be expecting my payment soon.”

The leading member of the LCA was silent for a long moment, the faint crackle of a radio and the quietest of voices the only thing that broke the silence. “...Acknowledged.”

This should be enough…but I’m still not quite satisfied.

“And…there’s something that your boss needs to hear. If you really want to get my help-”

“-then don’t hide that fact behind a convoluted contract. Be more straightforward about what you want- I don’t like people who try to manipulate me, and I would’ve gladly done this on my own. I’ll play your game this time, but the next time you try something like that, you can consider the Dawn Office your enemy.”

Smoke curled lazily from the pipe in her mouth.

“...So, he figured it out, huh. Should’ve known better than to try to trick a Color.”

“Detective-”

“There’s nothing to worry about. This still ends favorably for all parties,” Moses said with a sigh.

“...Don’t you want to study it yourself?” Ezra’s voice was concerned.

Moses shook her head. “That’s not possible. It would’ve been best to capture it, but I knew that was impossible the second the Vermilion Dragon began to follow its trail. It’s best to let them have it and study the effects of proximity of E.G.O on a distorted person.”

The Golden Dawn…he’s more shrewd than I imagined. His Office isn’t to be underestimated, either. Each of their members is a force to reckon with, and none of their members are below Grade 3 now, not to mention the two Colors in their midst. Angering them wouldn’t be a good idea for the moment. We still have Red on a leash, but that might change if we suffer too many losses.

…We’ll merely have to play this by ear. The Chained Zealot…I’m interested in seeing what becomes of you.

After a few moments of silence, Moses began issuing orders once more. While she couldn’t control those soldiers as she pleased, she could at least control the situation.

“Orders. Limbus Company shall abide by the contract. We offer our thanks for your cooperation,” the masked soldiers said after an extended silence. Philip’s lips turned upwards in a knowing grin.

“In that case, I’ll be taking my leave. And…Vergilius,” Philip began. The Red Gaze’s glare hadn’t lessened in the slightest.

“...What.”

“...Your expression wasn’t as flat as you thought it was earlier. Whatever connection you have with the Purple Tear isn’t any of my business, but if you ever need any help, then contact me. I wouldn’t be against testing my skills against hers. Consider it my apology to you.”

I’ve met the Purple Tear only once since the Library. She showed up at the worst possible time, spouted her typical nonsense, praised me for ‘showing her something interesting in this world’, and left. I don’t care if it’s petty of me, but there’s something that I just don’t like about her. I'll help him if he wants it.

Vergilius’ scowl only deepened. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t attempt to butt into my business, Golden Dawn.”

Philip snorted. “Well, don’t say I never offered. I’ve said my piece- I think it’s about time I headed home. I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for, Vergilius.”

…And then, the Chained Zealot’s hands grasped Philip, without a single hint of their typical corrosive liquid.

“Receive a Prescript…and carry it out. Return to the horizon with a friend, where the sun may rise on a new day.”

With a sinking feeling in his gut, he was pulled beneath the ground alongside the Chained Zealot, accompanied only by the baleful glare of the Red Gaze.

Slowly, Philip and the Chained Zealot emerged from the ground, directly in front of the Dawn Office. It wasn’t the dead of night, not quite the time for the Night in the Backstreets, but it was still just late enough for there to be nobody around. Perfect- he’d prefer to avoid someone trying to headhunt the Chained Zealot at the moment.

He was released gently. The worst part of traveling so far was always the feeling it left behind in his gut. He had felt the same when he had gone on a Warp train once in the past, before becoming a Color. After a short moment of thinking, Philip’s halo went to the distortion, restoring it back to full before he allowed his E.G.O to fade in its entirety.

“The Prescript has been carried out. I must return an ally to the Dawn Office in District 22's Nest.”

Philip was quiet for a long moment, staring up at the distortion. “What will you do from here?”

The typewriter-like noises continued as the distortion spoke. “I will follow the will of the City. I will carry out the will of the Prescripts. I cannot return home until Yan Vismok finds yellow from a sea of red.”

“Yan Vismok…do you want my help finding that person, whoever they are?” Helping the Chained Zealot might lead to it returning back to where it was, but in the process of it, Philip was certain that he could come to understand what led this person to distort in the first place.

The distortion was silent for a long, long few moments.

“Yan Vismok was the name of the person I used to be.”

…I see.

“Would you like me to call you Yan, then?”

“My name is irrelevant. Such a thing does not have a purpose to me.”

“Then why did the Prescript call you Yan?”

“I do not know. I merely move according to the will of the City.”

Philip went into his pockets, fishing out his keys. Without saying a word, he opened the door, standing aside as it swung out into an empty Office.

“You’ve got all the time in the world to fulfill that Prescript, right? In that case, why don’t you stay with my Office for a time? I’m willing to help you, at least for the moment.”

“...I have not received a Prescript ordering me to do such a thing.”

“...Even if that’s the case, the way you go about fulfilling those Prescripts…no matter how much it may seem like destiny, and no matter how closely it follows your every action…that’s still up to you, isn’t it?”

“All things are as the City wills it. I have no will of my own, and I cannot escape the will of the City.”

“Then do you think the City wills you to stand out in the street and get attacked by every Fixer within a thousand-mile radius, or do you think the City wills you to fulfill your Prescript safely?”

“...”

In the end, the Chained Zealot did not respond to his inquiry.

“...Yan. I want to help you be free again, despite what happened at the Library. Your thoughts, your actions, your decisions…they are all your own, regardless of what the City tells you…regardless of what Carmen tells you. If there’s anything within you that wants to be free, if there’s anything within you that wants to find happiness…then please, come with me. We’ll help you find a path that leads you home.”

“...I cannot return home…”

“...Until you find yellow from a sea of red, right? I think I know the meaning of that Prescript. It’s not something you can solve on your own, Yan. I swear, I earnestly want to help you. If you, and only you, want to accept that help…then come with me.”

The door still lay open. Philip walked through it, not looking behind him.

I had a dream, back then, when I was still resting in the Light. A dream where I was engulfed by the red of that woman’s eyes, smothered by it, unable to see, hear, or speak for myself. I was tormented by that dream for what felt like an eternity…until a warm, yellow light washed over me. That man…he watched over me within the Light. I don’t know for how long, but he was there, and he saved me from being drowned in her colors when I had no idea if my sacrifice ended up meaning anything. I chose to die not knowing if it would even amount to anything aside from a scoff from Angela, and that anxiety...within the Light, it almost broke me. Without him...

Yan Vismok…you cannot return home until you manifest E.G.O from your distortion. It doesn’t matter how long it takes you; I’ll shield you until you’re ready. I don’t know why the Index benefits from that, and I don’t particularly care, but…I’ll help you through it, even if it ends up hurting me. Because…if it’s only pain, then I’ll bear it for the sake of another, endlessly, until they can save themselves from that pain and walk on their own two feet.

That’s…what it means to be selfless.

The door softly closed as Yan entered the Office, and Philip smiled.

Let’s walk towards tomorrow together, Yan.