Everything hurt so much, Franz could barely keep himself conscious. What was going on? At first, he only felt that his thoughts were connected with Chelsea's, but as time passed, even sensations and pain were shared. Every time she was injured he felt an echo of the pain, he imagined the same was true for her. That last attack he received must have been the last straw, because she had fainted. In a way, that was slightly positive, since the burden of pain diminished on him. Although he still had his own injuries and pain to reckon with.

Lia had left in pursuit of Frederick and Marine. Franz didn't think that was a good idea, but he didn't have the strength to warn, let alone stop her. He hoped that she wouldn't fall into some kind of trap. With a lot of struggle, Franz managed to stand up, using a pillar as support. Then, he almost fell down again from shock.

Delilah had entered the Throne Room. Forget about simply holding the line, it seemed like she had slaughtered every single person that approached the Throne Room. She was completely covered in blood, from head to toe, Franz didn't even want to imagine what the entrance to the Throne Room looked like. She looked like a raging animal. Frederick had made the right choice in retreating after he heard her roar. As important as she had been to whatever success they had in this place, Franz suddenly realized that perhaps bringing her along might have been a very bad idea. Why did Lia choose that?

“Where's the princess?” Delilah asked while looking directly at Franz. He fell down on his ass. Never before in his life feeling so intimidated, Franz fumbled for words to try and respond, but couldn't. “I asked, where is she? Where did she go?”

Wait. Did he really never experience a similar situation? It didn't matter. He took a deep breath and calmed down somewhat. She was supposed to be an ally, no harm in answering right? Even if she was utterly terrifying.

“She was pursuing Prince Frederick that way.”

He pointed to the direction he last saw Lia going. Without saying another word, Delilah set off in that direction. Did he do the right thing though? Why did he have to be plagued with these doubts? It was so annoying. He had done all he could, perhaps he should rest for a bit. It was all up to Lia and Delilah to finish it. He was just so tired. Franz dozed off. Chelsea was smiling at him. They both had done their best. She extended a hand to caress his face, but that suddenly turned into a slap. The short dream, or had it actually been long? Was cut by a loud bang produced by someone hitting against a metal door. It was accompanied by a desperate voice, Delilah's voice.

“No, no, no, no! No! Don't you dare! Please, Please! Don't do this... I promise I will just kill that prince, I will stop that dog. If I just kill the prince it's all over, isn't it? Please! I don't want to lose my freedom like... No! Noooo!”

The bangs stopped, but Delilah's wail continued, until it turned into a screech and suddenly stopped. Not good. Franz wasn't sure what was going on, but he had a bad feeling, he forced himself to stand up again and limped towards the unconscious Chelsea. Before he had reached her, Delilah had come back.

“Uh, hey, are you okay?”

That was the only thing he could say to Delilah, who now looked completely different. It was like she had completely calmed down, no, it was like she had become someone else. For some reason, she felt even more frightening, because she reminded him of someone else, someone so terrifying that he couldn't bear to remember the truth. She smiled. That smile!

“Having trouble remembering? Of course you do, I took just enough of you to be able to alter your memory, how about I give it back to you?”

Then, everything started to come back. No. He and Chelsea had not fought the Matriarch as equals. Far from that, they were nothing, less than nothing. Not only that, he remembered the terror he felt as she nibbled and licked his neck, then did the same to an already fainted Chelsea. They were Infected, they already had their bodies taken away, the Matriarch only let them keep their will on a whim. And now, he knew that the one who was in control of Delilah's body at that moment wasn't Delilah, but the greatest terror. Not only that, he now knew more than he did before.

“Lia... Was under your thumb?”

He asked weakly. Why? Why did he have to know that? This wasn't something he needed to know. Lia had sold everything, sold the Empire, essentially, for extending her own freedom, when Franz's and Chelsea's had already been lost. How could she?

“Yes. She was willing to give me anything for even a moment more of freedom, and now she has refused to fulfill her end of the bargain. She gave her life away to escape me. Not a bad choice for her, but it's not something that makes me particularly happy, you know?”

Lia, was dead? It wasn't possible. How could she be? She was going to win! They, all of them had triumphed through so much danger! How could she be dead? Delilah approached Chelsea. Forget about Lia!

“What are you doing?”

Franz asked, half in a panic. Whatever she wanted, couldn't be good. Don't you dare touch her!

“You know, I just wanted to fiddle with your minds enough to make sure the official story didn't fall apart, but taking a better look at things, this girl makes quite the nice material for an Heir Maiden. I suppose I will have to take her as compensation. Maybe this whole business will have been worth it?”

Then she lifted Chelsea up effortlessly. No. Franz instinctively knew that he couldn't let that happen. He and Chelsea were Infected now, but in a different manner, somehow he knew that as long as they never approached the Matriarch, they could be relatively normal people. He had lost his weapons, but he might still be able to hit her, his fists, with his fists he would protect Chelsea.

“I won't let you take her away!”

He stood resolutely in front of her. He would not let her.

“Stand down, I don't feel like dealing with you right now and I don't need another walking slab of meat.”

Immediately Franz's body knelt. It wasn't exactly a force, he just did it. It felt like when he did something while distracted by something else, except it took a great amount of will for him to move from that position. He wasn't about to be stopped. With all of his strength, he grabbed Delilah's leg as she walked past.

“I've already said... I am not letting you take her away.”

Delilah glared at him and kicked him away. Franz hit a pillar with an audible thud, pain flaring up in his whole body. Now that he thought about it, that woman, Marine, she probably had some kind of poison in that knife. He was in no shape to fight against Delilah, but still, he wouldn't let Chelsea be taken, no, anything but that. Before he could say something else, Delilah put one of her feet on his throat.

“Those eyes.” A malevolent smile appeared on Delilah's face. “Such defiant eyes, even though you know how powerful I am. So delicious.” She put Chelsea on the ground briefly and approached her face to Franz's ear while she used a hand to keep his jaw closed. She whispered, with such poison in her voice. “Let me tell you a secret. I am going to take this girl back to my real body as compensation and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it. Nothing. You can cry, you can whine, you can struggle, but she will be mine. Now, you might fantasize about being this courageous knight that rescues her afterwards, but the moment you step into the same room as I, your very soul will be mine forever, the same applies to any children you might have, by the way. Oh, you might not want to have children with other women, right? But you will, I think. For her, I think you might just try anything, won't you? Have fun, this is the curse I leave you with.”

She stood up, broke Franz's legs, picked Chelsea up again, and left. Franz's broken body remained, but his spirit still survived, even as it raged against the world, against Lia. He had never thought that he would be betrayed in such a way. Maybe, it would have been better if they never met. He cursed having met Lia, he cursed having met Chelsea. She did not deserve it. He would sacrifice anything, everything, to save her. He wished Lia had rotted in that stupid place for the children of Emperors. What a farce. All those promises. And in the end this is the result. He hated Lia, he hated himself, he hated the Infected, he hated Delilah, he hated the entire world. There was only one person he did not hate. The person he loved, who was now being taken to a destiny worse than death. Why didn't Lia just accept it? What a coward she was. As he lost himself in these thoughts, for what seemed a second, or perhaps an eternity, two sets of footsteps could be heard.

“Argh, the smell! How many corpses were pilled near the entrance to this place? Clean up is going to be awful!”

A voice that Franz did not recognize. Who was it? Maybe the third prince Lia and Frederick suspected was working in the shadows? What about the other person?

“And you wonder why I call you Garbage. Have you no consideration for your fellow countrymen? You only ever consider your words carefully in public or when trying to manipulate someone.”

Another voice Franz did not know.

“Please, they are not my countrymen anymore, just corpses now. I didn't think you would be so sensitive. Oh, I know, you must like the dead, that's why you make so many of them!”

The second person was irritated at that.

“I just respect those who fall in battle, not like garbage like you would ever understand that. Wait, there's someone still alive here!”

A huge, wolf-like man stood in front of Franz, pointing a sword at his throat. Behind was probably Justinian, did he beat Frederick in the end then?

“Wait, don't kill him. Isn't that Lia's Sword? It seems he has something to say. Let him.”

An opportunity was there. Franz would not let it pass by. He summoned all of his strength and spoke in a hoarse voice.

“I will do anything for you. Just give me the power to create a force just for hunting Infected, please.”

It was all he wanted. Nothing else. He wanted vengeance and an opportunity to save her.

“Now that's new. I thought I'd just be getting some more abuse, as usual. You're asking me for favors? Do you really understand that I've killed your liege, Lia? I've won, she, and by extension, you, lost. Are you really going to betray her memory that easily, for... the opportunity to hunt Infected?”

Of course he would, why not? She betrayed them first. What did he care?

“Lia...” He spit on the ground to illustrate his contempt for her. “She betrayed and sold us out. I don't care. You know it will be easier to integrate her forces if you have my endorsement. I will even lie if you want. Frederick killed her, you avenged her and is taking on her will or some bullshit. Just give me what I want.”

Justinian nodded along. He seemed satisfied.

“I don't know your circumstances, or why you feel my little sister betrayed you, but you seem to be smart enough to have an idea of your political usefulness. Welcome aboard.”

In the Unbreakable, a strange mood dominated. There was a sense of relief, of course, every day casualties mounted and the end of that was a positive for all. At the same time, knowing that Lia was dead, and that they failed in the ultimate objective spawned a sense of disappointment that was difficult to shake off. However, it didn't stop there. To add confusion to the mix, it seemed that not only Lia, but also Frederick was dead. The one who would be the next Emperor was someone else, Justinian, someone who had not even participated in the Great Race. Even after almost everyone else had left the Command Car, Colonel Rommel, looking down, seemed particularly unable to comprehend or accept what was going on.

“Fuck! How did it end like this? How is such a result even imaginable? Damn it all! What... what was the meaning of all that we did? All that we went through?”

It was a rhetorical question. An attempt to make sense of the situation he found himself in, but someone answered. Jonah, Egregius of the Tal, somewhat of an outsider. He had cultivated somewhat of a relationship of respect with Rommel during the Race.

“I don't think anyone can give a precise account of how things turned out this way, but as for meaning, don't forget that just because the ultimate result didn't match with any of your expectations doesn't mean that the whole thing was meaningless.”

It sounded pretentious, but it was the only thing that he could think of saying. If he was completely honest, Jonah would have to admit that he was just as puzzled as anyone else, but perhaps not so disoriented since the Great Race as a tradition did not hold the same meaning to him as it did everyone else in the Unbreakable.

“What are you talking about?” Rommel retorted vociferously, barely holding back tears. “The princess, all that potential inside of her, it's gone! Not only that, it wasn't even substituted by something just as worthy! The one who is to sit on the Throne as Emperor is someone who made a mockery of the Great Race! You think I didn't pay attention during this fucking battle? Strange uprisings here and there, all holding back Frederick's forces but never enough that we could break through and assist at the Imperial Palace. It's a conspiracy! I'm telling you, that boy had a plan all along! I... I refuse to accept him as Emperor!”

Jonah certainly could understand that passion, that anger, but still, to let it boil over right at that moment would do nobody any good. He had to think of something to say that would calm Rommel down.

“And what do you intend to do about it? Continue the battle? For what purpose? Look around you! Everyone is exhausted, many are wounded! Even if you oppose this result, it doesn't even mean that everyone else thinks the same. You would just be throwing your own and many other people's lives away.”

But Rommel would not be so easily dissuaded.

“I don't care. Some things are more precious than anyone's lives.”

That wasn't wrong. At least Jonah thought so. Still, throwing their lives away at that juncture would achieve nothing, and that would be ultimate tragedy.

“Be patient. If you cooperate now, you might get to take a look and evaluate what that boy intends to build. If it's truly so abhorrent to you, then you can resist with all of your might and then, even if you fall, your opposition in full spirit will forever mark his rule. If you resist now and lose, you will just be a sore loser, even if you resist and win, I doubt that you'd have any idea of what to do afterwards. Don't get lost in passion.”

Finally, it looked like a semblance of calm crept into Rommel's expression.

“I... suppose you're right. I see. She was always patient after all. I will be patient.”

Lia was dead, she had failed. Huh. Jonah had to admit this was hard to grasp. When she emerged alive from the ruins of Trestia it was almost as if she was invincible, destined to prevail. But in reality things weren't so easy. It was strange, why was there a tear in his eye? He was a paragon of wisdom, he had even suggested leaving her behind when he was too scared. He didn't think he was that attached to that girl. But now he realized that he was. Her loss was a tragedy beyond belief. He needed to return to his country and consult with the Goddess. He had to make sense of what had just transpired.

Captain Lewis couldn't accept it. Not the result exactly. It wasn't that which bothered him. Delilah and Chelsea, the Shadow deceased, but no body to be found? Something was wrong, very wrong. And he would very much like to get to the bottom of it.