Alexander's knees buckled under the weight of his relief, leaving his already dirtied clothes to crash into the steel platform beneath him. Noise itself emanated from his shackles, whirs and twists, the clicking of gears all rang out, before a pop and a hiss was heard, before his chains and cuffs slipped off his hands and wrists and fell to the floor, clattering onto the metal.

He was free.

Free from those shackles, and free from fear.

The jury as a whole continued to spew out jeers and sneers at the Demon-Born, at the prosecutor, the judge, at the court itself, just as the public did. Still, in between the rows and rows of civilians and their shouting, Alexander's family and friends cheered and hollered in joy.

Well, some of them. Liam only smiled and pumped his fist, while the scattered Paladins already made their way to leave the courtroom.

Alexander spun around to meet the public, his lips still spread apart with his wide smile. His eyes met those of Emilia and Carmen and Anastasia and Gabriel and each of the Virtues, each of his friends and loved ones.

Just a second later, a flash of grey light burst into his light. Magic.

Spatial magic, at that. It transported him out of the room and into the sun. He landed outside, knee first onto the brick pavement and clear sky. His thoughts didn't linger on the magic, turning his focus over to his surroundings in an instant.

What Alexander breathed in was his first breath of fresh air in five days. All he could do was scream, shout out into the empty, cloudless sky from the bottom to the top of his lungs. His fists were clenched, his dirty nails digging into his skin.

He understood how putrid his own smell was, how raggedy his own clothes were. His breath, his skin, his hair- All of Alexander was dirtied and rotten. Still... He was a boy overjoyed.

"Congratulations, Demon-Born," Julius Richter called out. He waved with a steel transporter in his hands, before shoving it into his pocket. "It seemed it all worked out for you."

Alexander spun and faced Julius, pushing his foot against the ground and forcing himself back up to stand. The man stood just a dozen feet away from him, still onto the steps to the courthouse.

He began to step down, buttoning his suit jacket. Richter didn't have time to complete such a menial action inside, turning all his focus and transporting himself and the Demon-Born.

The boy was freed, and so, his actions didn't matter. Or rather, his location didn't. Ichter simply took the liberties upon himself.

"Charles Archibald is the man responsible for this," Richter spat out, a sigh leaving his lisp all the while as he faced Alexander and the golden sun behind him. "You understand that, don't you?" he asked.

Alexander nodded.

"Listen..." he said.

"...I wanted you to die, Demon-Born. I did what I could to make it happen. It was simply a matter of influence." He paused to himself, silently scratching his chin. "Rather, a matter of fate. Just as I did everything to ensure you were found guilty, Charles Archibald did everything to ensure you were found innocent. Fate pitted me against Charles Archibald. He won, and with him, you were allowed to live. That was all."

Alexander smiled. He nodded. It didn't matter to him that Richter had just declared his wish for Alexander's death. All he focused on was Archibald. All he thought about was the next time he could see his old friend, shake his hand and hug him in pure gratitude and awe, a man who could overcome the devil's curse.

At Alexander's silence, Richter continued to speak. "Lane... Can I ask you for a favor?"

"Huh?" Alexander spat out on instinct, finally bringing his thoughts back down to reality. "Uh... Yeah, sure."

"I'm just an onlooker here. My actions aligned with the desires of the Council, but I'm not associated with them," he explained. "Nevertheless, this whole thing... I had a hunch it would be interesting. I was right. So just do me a favor," he said, letting out a sigh all the while.

"Become a toy of fate; a clown. And then die."

That was all he asked for. And without giving time for Alexander to respond, the prosecutor turned away and headed back into the building.

Alexander was left with his mouth open, prepared to speak but with nothing worth saying. He shut his jaw and was left alone with that bad taste in his mouth, even while staring at the intricately stunning building of a federal courthouse.

Just seconds later, a cinnamon-skinned girl burst through the spinning doors of the exit. Her brown hair and eyes were practically glimmering as she stepped in the sunlight. As soon as her gaze met that of the Demon-Born's, she froze.

Her face lit up with a wide smile, before she continued her burst of pace. She practically jumped off the steps and wrapped her arms around her brother. And all Alexander could do was pour his face into her hair. All he could do was hold her head.

"I really... really thought you would be killed at some point," Emilia told him, tears beginning to well up in her eyes.

"So did I," he uttered. That was all he said. But that was nothing of what he had to say. For now, all he could do was hold her in his love. For now, he was alive. And that meant everything.

Emilia pulled herself back and away, still smiling and already blinking away her tears. "How did it... How did it all work for you?" Emilia asked him, her mind still confused and her thoughts still lingering on the impossibility that had just occurred before her.

Anyone could see the great disparity and injustice that stood as Alexander's trial.

"Archibald handled everything," he told her. That explanation always sufficed. He took in a deep breath and looked up, his eyes fixing themselves onto the blank and cloudless sky. Lost in the grand blue, Alexander couldn't help but mutter to himself.

"I'm literally blessed," the cursed boy said, his lips still arched in a smile.

Emilia regained his attention, his focus by jabbing at his ribs with her elbow. "Anastasia was with us too," Emilia pointed out. "She seemed worried about you, y'know."

"Well, that makes sense," he responded plainly, looking back down and meeting her with a smile. "She's a good friend."

Emilia continued to stare at her brother, her smile fading. "God, you're dull. I'm trying to embarrass you, dude."

He chuckled, as more and more people exited the courthouse. The flow of the crowd was slow, but they all diverged, separating themselves and walking meters away from Alexander. That crowd of hundreds and dozens all moved out as they left, eyeing and glaring at him as if he still was a filthy beast who had to be put down.

But as Alexander stood with Emilia, as their mother came out and embraced them both, as the Virtues began their exit, Alexander didn't care. All he had to know was that it was all alright.

As filthy as he was, it didn't matter to him.

And at the same time, Julius Richter continued his walk in the Union Captial. The city of Pendragon.

He rubbed his chin. He now knew what to do. Julius had to have a few words with the Paladin. The man pulling the strings, present in both the trial and the Association. The Strongest Paladin, the man with the universe in his palm, one Charles Archibald.

Richter entered the room without a pause or a second thought, simply forcing the door open and joining the paladin and the literal Chairman of the Association's High Council.

The unexpected sight was what brought him to a pause. He pulled himself back, locking eyes with the chairman as he lit a cigarette, glaring at Richter through his spectacles.

"May we help you?" Archibald asked, his eyebrows furrowed as he, too, stared at the prosecutor.

Richter swallowed his dry saliva. It was never easy for him to become nervous or anxious at something, much less the sight of a person or the start of an event, including a trial, but...

These past few days have wrought some wracked nerves in his head.

"I would like to speak with you, Sir. About what your actions during the trial."

Archibald smirked. "Well, I'm not sure what you mean. I did nothing during the trial. I've been inactive on all missions since last week," he said with a chuckle. He raised his hand to his lips, but shook away his grip as he realized he didn't have a cup or anything to drink.

Richter allowed himself and walked towards the two sitting officials and sat himself down near them, right across from the Paladin. He rested himself and stared at Archibald. "You..." he said to the Paladin. "You're planning something, aren't you?"

"I'm not sure if we're acquainted or not." Archibald turned to Xerxes, only for him to shake his head.

"We're not," Richter told him. "I was the prosecutor for the case of Alexander Lane."

Archibald shot up from his seat. "You're Julius Richter?! I've heard a lot about you! Just haven't seen you in a single picture so..." He extended his hand at him and smiled. "It's nice to finally meet you, young man."

Richter shook his hand and exchanged a grin. "I'm not that young, sir. I'm 24."

A second of silence echoed in the room, before Charles Archibald and Xerxes Agnes burst out laughing.

"We really are getting old, aren't we?" Xerxes spat out between his laughs.

"Speak for yourself," Archibald told him, still chuckling. "I've got a good number of decades left in these bones. You're older than me, anyway."

With that moment of laughter and heartfulness, the Paladin now appeared to be less of a dangerous magician and more of a normal, elderly man dressed in Archibald colors. He couldn't help but feel at ease now. "Well, as I said," he uttered out. "I'd like to know more about your interference with the case. This is all off-record so you have no reason to lie. It's just us."

"...That's exactly what someone would say if it wasn't just us."

"Ah. Well-"

Archibald laughed at Richter's quick stammers, finding amusement in the confusion of a man who had no reason to be confused. His smile remained as he spoke. "So, put simply... Nothing of this trial was right, much less just. So I violated the justice that you had already desecrated."

Xerxes let out another puff of smoke, yet remained quiet, simply eyeing to the side and pretending to be unfocused on the matters at hand.

"What did you do to convince the judge? Or rather, just to change the verdict?"

"No, no, no," Archibald interrupted once again. "The verdict was the product of a compromise. It wasn't a matter of any judge or jury, just the Council. The Union didn't give him a fair trial, to begin with. I did what I had to do, and you did what you had to do. I just ended up winning."

"Well... Those are my thoughts exactly, Mister Archibald," Xerxes muttered, letting out more smoke from his lips.

The Paladin turned to Xerxes. "Dude, why are you still here? You seriously don't have anything better to do?"

"...Wait, I think I have a meeting." He stood up and headed for the door, the stench of cigarettes following him out.

Still, Richter continued with his questioning. "I must ask you..." he said, pulling his head back and running his fingers through his hair. He dropped his head once again, his amber eyes gleaming in the light of the sun that peered through the windows. "Are you ready to shoulder the burden of Alexander's actions?"

Archibald couldn't help but smile at that, the skin around his eyes and lips wrinkling all the while. "You say that like I'm supposed to get executed in his place. Lighten up, man," he spat out.

He was still met with the same straight face from Julius, a blank expression accompanied by stale eyes. "You're going to bear it all? The hate and distrust from not just the Association, but the people? That's difficult, even for you."

The Paladin's smile remained plastered on his face. "Of course it's tough. I'm only human, after all. But it's all worth it. It wasn't Alexander's fault. Letting him live will benefit us all, and through his actions, he'll cancel out the stigma of not just the results of his trial, but of his lineage too."

"Granting forgiveness means accepting responsibility..." Richter uttered. "It doesn't seem you really thought this through, Sir Archibald. What will you do when Alexander Lane rampages again?"

A sigh left Archibald's lips as he shook his drooping head. And just as he raised his head, his mouth curled upward into a smirk. "I didn't just forgive him. I left it all in his hands. This... None of this is about bearing responsibility or accepting consequences. It's all about trusting him. I'm sure someday the scales of justice will tip in his favor."

That was all. Julius Richter grabbed the arms of the chair and pushed himself up. "It seems you are the man they make you out to be, Charles Archibald. That's a relief."

He turned his back to the Paladin and made his way to the door. "The crises we are experiencing... These distortions are by no mean minor."

"Tell me something I don't know," Archibald said, leaning back against his desk.

"There'll be a day when judgment must be passed. If I must pass judgment on that boy... or even you... so be it."

- - - - -

Just as Alexander finished greeting the others, he pressed the palm of his hand against Anastasia's forehead with a smile. "Are you still sick?" he asked her. "How are you feeling?"

She stared at him with her storm black eyes. "Those are the first words you're gonna say to me after all that?"

"...I guess."

A sigh left her lips as he retracted his hand. She shook her head, her dark hair swaying from side to side as she opened her arms.

Now it was Alexander who stared in confusion. Their eyes met in their silence, just as Alexander scanned Anastasia to understand what the hell she was doing. Options ran through his brain but with no conclusion. Until...

Time Passed: 4 Seconds.

"...Wait, do you want me to hug you?"

"Yes, you idiot!" she said, raising her voice. She took a single step forward and wrapped her arms around him.

Alexander awkwardly raised his arms from beneath Anastasia's embrace and patted her back, holding her all the while. They stood together for a moment, once again one of silence where all that existed in the world was just them.

That is, of course, until Alexander blurted out in his quiet voice. "I know I smell like shit so... Sorry."

"It's alright," she muttered, her face still buried in Alexander's chest. A single second later, she pulled her head back and let go of him. "Anyway..."

Anastasia turned away and faced the large, approaching man. Her grandfather.

He rubbed his beard as he smiled at her, only turning to the side and staring at Alexander.

Met with a hushed gaze, Alexander placed it on himself to initiate. He extended his hand at Manuel Schwarz and spoke: "I wasn't able to say this to you before but... "I'm sorry for putting you through that kind of stress, Mister Schwarz."

He only laughed in response. "No, it's okay!" he chortled out, grabbing hold of Alexander's hand with a swing more than a shake. "I have a strong heart, so you shouldn't worry."

Mister Schwarz leaned in by Alexander and with a smile and a whisper spoke. "Although my wife does get awfully nervous at times. So she was hardly present during your trial," he joked. "She practically fainted when they took Anastasia away. Same thing when she came back."

"Now!" he said aloud, maybe too loud for Alexander, and clapped his hands together. "As interesting of a man that you are... It's not my place to bother, so I won't stay."

He turned to his granddaughter and fell meek. "'Stasia could you- Could you take me back home?"

Anastasia couldn't help but smile at the sight of the tall, muscular old man, the man who had raised her for the past decade, quieting himself down in need of a favor from her. It was nothing he hadn't asked before, or anything that required energy or time, but he still remained polite and gentle.

She swung her arm to the side and opened a Connection back to their house. It would usually be difficult whether it was from school or anywhere in the Western Hemisphere, but since the portal only connected Pendragon and Hamburg, it wasn't tough to hold it open if it was only a mere minute.

And with Manuel Schwarz's farewell, the Virtues were left to themselves. That is, of course, with Emilia and Carmen.

But as the group trekked out and off the premises, Alexander's phone began to ring.

It was a silent vibration, but one that Emilia could feel between the books and objects in her school bag that she still carried.

She ruffled her hand through everything until she found it. Emilia had held it for days and hours on end in her bag, ever since Alexander left the house to fight Mammon. She had planned on giving it to him immediately after his release, but caught within a storm of greeting and emotion, she had forgotten.

With a quick apology, she handed her the phone and told him who was calling.

Charles Archibald.

Alexander quickly picked up and responded, but with no time to waste, Archibald began to explain and reached the point.

"Alexander," the Paladin told him. "There's someone I want you to meet."

"Oh?" Alexander muttered into the phone, still walking alongside the others while focused on each word Archibald uttered. "Who is it?"

"A good friend of mine. His name is Adam."

That single name was enough to freeze Alexander. He paused his steps and stood still, his hand beginning to tremble even as he carried his phone. "Huh?" he asked.

Archibald knew how awkward it was to say out loud. Still, he spoke: "Y'know... He's your father."

"Huh?" Alexander repeated. His mind was going blank, only to be overturned with a whirl of crazed thoughts and feelings.

And with that, the entire group stopped moving and talking, all turning to Alexander and focusing on what they had just heard. Within the silence, the only sound to be heard was Alexander swallowing his dry saliva.

He spoke again into the phone, only uttering, "My father?..."

"I'm sure you understand how dire this is," Archibald told him. "So you must understand... Adam needs to see you."