"It seems you were too slow, Alexander Lane. Too weak," the meddlesome Titan said, the portal whirling around him as it began to shut. With the shield of shadow, it disappeared, leaving nothing other than a ripple of darkness and the remnants of his energy.

Alexander was still on his knees as he stared out at that specific spot. The last dredge of magic energy still floating in the air. His eyes widened as he finally dropped his arms, leaving them to impact onto the forest ground.

'They have the crystal,' he thought to himself. 'We lost.' That was the only thing he could tell himself.

And that was all. The only sound to leave his lips was a frustrated shriek into the forest.

'We lost.'

"Dammit..." Alexander mumbled, finally letting out a breath.

His gaze finally fell towards his bloodied hands. He clenched his fist, only to slam it into the ground.

"Dammit," he repeated, louder this time, pounding his hand into the dirt. "We lost!" he cried, still repeating those motions, still crashing his clenched fist onto the forest floor. "Dammit, dammit, dammit!"

And with that, the ground shook.

"We lost," he repeated to himself, his voice now softening. Still on his knees, Alexander spat out a sigh before forcing himself to stand up.

He looked up at the golden sunlight that cascaded down the treetops and onto him. "Well, what the hell am I supposed to do now?" he asked himself.

A moment of silence to himself was all he had before a voice pierced through to him.

"Alexander?" that voice asked.

Alexander spun to its source. And standing shielded by a tree to the side, Morgana stared at him as he stood at the epicenter of the cracked ground. Confusion stained her face.

"How did you get here?" he asked her, rushing towards the tree where she stood.

She had no response for him. Because she didn't know the answer either.

'Right. Spatial magic,' Alexander reminded himself. Just like what she used against Eve, just like how she arrived on this realm in the first place, her erratic spatial magic teleportation was the root cause.

Her entire presence, entire magic, entire existence was out of her own hands. And because of that... it made her a prank of fate.

Even from the distance between them, she noticed the blood that practically leaked from Alexander. "Are you okay?" she asked, still standing beside the tree.

He had already lost a bit of blood, but he was fine. Fine, he told himself. Not necessarily good, but a tolerable level of bad. Alexander was already minimizing his blood loss by controlling his own magic energy.

Ever since he used White Light, his capacity for energy control increased. By now, he was barely bleeding. And as much as he wanted to stop and think about how the hell he had just subconsciously used White Light against Hector, he couldn't. He had problems to deal with.

And as Alexander rushed towards Morgana, he noticed the white cloak hidden in the bushes. His eyes widened.

Alexander thrust out his hand. 'Stay back,' he motioned. He took in a sharp breath and slowly began turning to the fallen enemy. He wasn't moving. He wasn't hiding or waiting to attack. Among the chaos and combat, he was forgotten. Barely conscious and left behind. Alexander swallowed his dry saliva as he reached out to him.

His hood had fallen off so Alexander could see his face. He had pale skin, as pale as Atlas, as if he hadn't been under the sun in months. He had dark and dirty blond hair, almost grey-like in color. And his ears... were pointy. This boy was an elf, just like Hjálmarr, Alexander realized.

Maybe it was because of the cloaks but... 'I've never seen an elf in the Golden Dawn,' he thought to himself.

The boy was already waking up, groggily blinking and mumbling incoherently. His eyes were silver and glossy. By then Alexander had noticed who it was. The one with the glass magic. Tauren, was it?

Alexander towered over his fallen opponent and spoke. "Get up."

"...W-What?"

"C'mon, get up," Alexander commanded. "You're a prisoner of war now, I guess."

His eyes widened as he scurried backward. Well, he tried to. Alexander's foot was already pressed against his ankle. "Don't kill yourself or whatever you're planning," Alexander told him. "I've already seen one of your guys do that before. I don't wanna see it again."

Tauren grit his teeth and stared back at Alexander, forcing his eyes to hide any glimmer of fear. "My name is Tauren Brek. I am a First Class Private of the New Genesis Vanguard, assigned to Squad J. I will not-"

"Don't care. Can you stand?" Alexander said, removing his foot and extending a hand at him.

Tauren stared in confusion, before grabbing Alexander's hand to pull himself up.

"So let me explain," Alexander told Tauren as he stood up. "You'll probably end up as a prisoner of war. Sounds bad, but you get to live. You get food and shelter and all that stuff. So just don't fight back, and we're good to go. Understand?"

Tauren furrowed his eyebrows. This boy... This Demon-Born... He was probably a year or two younger than him and yet... His energy, his power, everything about him was a testament to his level of strength. Even if Tauren had the strength to put up a fight, he wouldn't be able to do anything to Alexander.

And so... He nodded.

"Perfect," Alexander said. Once again, he extended his hand. But it wasn't for contact. With a deep breath, a ring of darkness appeared around Tauren and wrapped itself onto his arms.

"Sorry," Alexander apologized. "It's not like I have handcuffs or anything, but I still have to restrain you somehow, y'know?" The band of darkness tightened until Tauren's hands were pushed forward, coming together at his wrists and pressed with the magic.

"Is that good? Or too tight?"

Tauren simply nodded in silence.

"...Okay." Alexander turned to Morgana and called her over once again.

She hurriedly walked over to them.

Tauren stared at Morgana. "H-Hi," he softly muttered, waving with his tied hands.

She stared back, but gave no greeting. "He looks like the elf," she pointed out.

Alexander smiled and nodded. "Hjálmarr? Yeah, they're both elves," he said with a chuckle. "Don't stand too close to him, though."

Tauren spat out a sigh. "I know we may be ideologically different, but it's not like I'm going to hurt a child."

Morgana shook her head with a smile. "You wouldn't be able to hurt me, anyway. You're too skinny, too weak."

"That's just cruel," he muttered.

A bronze glimmer struck Alexander's eyes. The cascading sunlight was shining onto a bronze blade, half a foot into the trunk of a tree.

Thin cracks and crevices were spread throughout the bronze blade along with permanent marks of impact, echoes of previous battles. What’s more… It wasn’t a good sword. Just by its weight, it’s length and width, Alexander already knew it was weak. But a sword was a sword.

Tauren's belt didn't have a sheath, to begin with, so it wasn't his. But that didn't matter to Alexander, either way. He walked over and yanked it from the tree, running it into the sheath that still hung at his belt.

It could've been dangerous if he had left a weapon there, he told himself.

Besides, the feeling of an empty sheath bouncing on his leg as he walked wasn't something he was used to. As strange as it was, the weight of a sword was far more comforting.

"Alright," he said aloud. "Let's get going."

Tauren walked ahead of them, his hands still tied together as he led the way out of the forest and towards the island. North.

"Are we going to Midgard soon?" Morgana asked as they trekked.

Alexander looked down at her. "Uh... Yeah. Yeah, actually. We'll get to Midgard in a matter of hours, actually."

And with that, she smiled.

That was all it took. Just a bit of hope to change her perspective. That was all Alexander had to give. And that was enough.

Still, her smile quickly faded as her stomach grumbled aloud.

The three of them froze in their tracks. Alexander stared at her. "Are you hungry?"

"No."

That was a lie.

Alexander spat out a sigh. "What do you want to eat?" he asked, despite her lie.

"...Bread," Morgana muttered, another thin smile growing on her lips.

That slight smile was all Alexander needed to see. He immediately smiled back. "Bread, huh?" he asked. "Well, I can't blame you. Bread is pretty damn amazing."

He cleared his throat. "Bread it is, then," Alexander told her. "When we get to Midgard, I'm gonna take you to the best bread store in the nine realms. Deal?"

"Deal!" she said, her smile growing. And just like that, Morgana reached and grabbed Alexander's hand as he walked.

"Wait, bread store? Do you mean bakery?"

Alexander paused. "...Wait, why have I been calling it a bread store this whole time?"

- - - - -

It was only a few minutes of walking North until Morgana spoke again.

"It's cold," she noted.

She was right. In the past few minutes, the entire landscape, entire region and climate had changed. The forest was no longer evergreen, but a dense mass of white and pale trees, some with bare branches and some with grey leaves. The ground was no longer soft dirt, but a mix of crushed rocks and crunched leaves. All grey, with gravel and lifeless plants beneath them.

After all, the trees blocked out the sun. Leaves under leaves and branches under branches, stacked densely and packed together to disallow even rays of light from passing through.

Wintry wind brushed against them, trailing with the soft energy of magic.

But where... 'Where's the energy coming from?' he asked himself.

From what all Alexander could tell, there was a person there, just a dozen and a half meters away. The air only carried thin remnants of the energy, so Alexander couldn't judge who it was or how strong they were. But...

Tauren swallowed his dry saliva. "Don't tell me..." he muttered, clenching his jaw as he realized who it was.

Alexander stared at him. "What is it?"

Tauren's eyes were beginning to tremble, as he spoke with a grave voice. "You would do well to get us out of here."

There was a stone wall to their left, just a couple dozen meters away. It was a cave, the one they had ignored when they passed by it. That route was shut.

They couldn't turn around and run; they would only be chased. But... 'I have a feeling whoever's there won't just let us run.'

Alexander turned to his right. Was that even a safe option? he asked himself. But his next thought was cut off as the magic energy suddenly disappeared.

His eyes widened. This time, another of Alexander's senses came to use. The snapping of dead twigs echoed under the trees as the figure took a step forward.

He took another step, and another fallen branch snapped under his feet. And his magic energy flared into the cover of darkness. "Alexander Lane, I presume," the voice said.

Alexander shuddered as he slowly turned his head. Time felt as if it began to slow. Alexander had never seen this man, or felt his presence before. There was no more feeling in Alexander's body other than his instincts screaming out at him. The same feeling he felt with Belphegor. The same pressure that squeezes your brain, that tightens your throat. That feeling was drowning out all his other senses. But Alexander knew... This was no demon.

That was Arnold Norr.

Morgana gripped his hand even tighter. He looked down at her. Sweat was dripping down her forehead just as tears cascaded down from her already-stained eyes. The gargantuan amount of dense energy coming from this unknown person was disgusting. But for Morgana to shed tears...

Alexander wanted to hold her. He wanted to tell her it would be alright, that there was no need to cry, no need for fear.

But even now, he wouldn't be sure of his own words.

All he could do was stare at the slowly approaching figure shrouded in the cover of darkness. With each step, the figure became more and more clear. He was already a silhouette. Just a few more meters and he would already be under the sunlight.

"Stay back!" Alexander shouted at the figure.

He quickly unsheathed his sword and gripped it, pressing the cold steel against Tauren's throat. "You're with the Golden Dawn, right? That makes this guy your ally."

The figure halted. "Correct."

"Then stay the fuck back!" Alexander ordered, pointing his bronze blade at him. "Or I'll kill him! I swear I'll do it!" He quickly turned his head at Morgana, his eyes widened as if to say, Please. Run. Now.

Even so, Morgana didn't let go of his hand. She couldn't. If she so much as took a step forward or back, the fear that gripped her would force her to the ground. All she could do... All she did... was grasp Alexander's hand, holding onto him.

'I need to get her out of here. I need to. I need to.' These thoughts filled Alexander's head as he struggled to focus and drown out all feelings of fear.

He turned back at the man. "Stay back," he repeated. "I'll kill him."

That was never Alexander's intention. But if that was a threat he had to make to get this man away from them, to keep them safe, he would gladly make it.

And with that, the shadow-covered figure spat out a heavy sigh. He raised his hands.

He was... 'Surrendering? Good.' Again, Alexander swallowed his dry saliva. "I'm going to release him," Alexander said. "As soon as we're out here. Just let us go first."

The figure didn't respond.

But his hands were still raised. That's better than nothing, Alexander thought.

He turned to Morgana, forcing a smile onto his face. "See?" he tried to reassure her. "Told you it would be fine."

"I'm gonna protect you, Morgana," he said. "Not just now, but... But for as long as I need to. Now... You have to run now. Understand?" he asked, still glancing and shifting his gaze between her, Tauren, and Arnold.

Another step forward. Leaves crunched under Arnold's boot as he finally stepped out of the shadows.

It was finally then that Alexander could see his face. He was clearly and nearly a head taller than him, with stark white hair and brilliant yellow eyes. An Asgardian, with a grin as wide as it could be. Instead of the Golden Dawn's usual cloak, he wore a pale trench coat that flowed in the incoming wind.

But Alexander didn't focus on that. He was still fixated on the dense cloud of magic power surrounding Arnold. It wasn't like anything he had seen before. It wasn't a calming energy like Archibald. It wasn't Eldar's flame-like presence.

It was a storm. Dark and dense, like musty clouds of crackling lightning and ever-echoing thunder.

The sight of Arnold's smile was all it took. Tauren's eyes welled up with tears. "Please. Lord Arnold," he stammered, his lip quivering as he spoke. "Vice-Commander, please."

But Arnold didn't respond. He remained silent and smiling, just as his arms remained raised.

"I don't- I don't want to die!" Tauren shouted. "Please, milord!"

Alexander clenched his jaw. "Shut up, dammit," he commanded Tauren. "I'm gonna get you out of here alive. I won't hurt you so just shut-"

"No, you don't understand!" Tauren interrupted, still shouting. "You don't understand! It's not you! It's him! Arnold's-"

A blinding ray of light shot out.

Tauren's severed head dropped to the ground, rolling in the gravel and mud. Blood spewed out as his headless corpse fell to its knees, crashing to the ground.

'What-'

'Did he-'

Alexander's legs began to tremble.

"You see..." Arnold Norr said. "I don't care about them or their lives. They chose to devote their lives to our cause. So if they have to die... Well, that's just too bad, isn't it?"

Alexander staggered backward. Arnold's swirling eyes, his crooked smile, his fluid steps- Everything about him, down to the tone of his voice, was swathed in pure amusement.

"But it's not like he had to die in the first place," Arnold continued. "You... Yes. You threatened me. You put me in that predicament. His death... His blood is on your hands. Metaphorically..." he said, his eyes scanning over the splash of blood on Alexander. "...as well as a much more literal sense."

Alexander sharply inhaled. "Morgana," he uttered. "Please, run."

But Morgana couldn't move. Her knees were seconds away from buckling. Tears of fear were already streaming down her face. And her grip on Alexander's hand was getting tighter. "Please," she mumbled.

That was all she could say.

All Alexander could do was grit his teeth as he slowly raised his sword. He reaffirmed all he could think. He has to protect Morgana. He will protect Morgana.

She gripped his hand, looking up at him. Fear held her tight, constricting her breath and flowing her tears. Morgana swallowed her saliva. "Alexander-"

Arnold's hand crackled with thin, jagged streams of yellow electricity. And a shot of lightning burst out from his hand.

Thunder crackled and echoed through the forest. And Morgana's body burst with the impact of golden light, unleashing an aerosol mist of scarlet blood. Chunks of bone and viscera exploded throughout, leaving nothing except for a severed, broken hand that still held onto Alexander.

There were no longer any traces of Morgana's existence, other than the blood-stained trees that surround him and the crimson splatter on Alexander. No traces other than the bloody, dripping hand that Alexander still held.

Alexander took a single, lumbering step forward. His vision grew shaky and blurry as he turned to the side, to the splatter of crimson that had replaced Morgana, his eyes widening as he clenched his jaw.

Tears welled up in his eyes before Alexander dropped the severed hand. And as the empty clatter of its impact on the ground rang out into his pounding head, he took another staggered step forward. His breaths were still labored and his legs were already trembling. All he could see with his hazy vision was that translucent cloud of energy that surrounded Arnold.

His fear was now drowned out by his true emotions. Unbridled anger. And utterly transparent bloodlust.

The next words that spilled from his lips came from so deep within his gut, it nearly made everything he had said before seem like a lie.

"You..." he uttered.

"I'll fucking kill you."