Cyan snaps her out of her thoughts. Ishkal is very unenthusiastically catching up. Trailing behind Cyan with his hands shoved in his pockets. Cyan’s asking her about her conversation with Blythe. Precautioning her to stay away. Sicarius classes are dangerous. It’s hard to figure out their activation condition and once it goes off, it’s almost always deadly. She shakes her head, correcting him,

“It’s not that. I wasn’t trying to provoke her.” he asks,

“Then what?” they’re going back into the hall, morse coding Bob to meet them at the restaurant two floors up. It’s almost dinner time and there’s an hour of tea break before the next game starts. She simply says,

“I’ll tell you later.” if she remembers. She probably just misunderstood something on her part, so it doesn’t seem that important anymore. Then, she turns her head over her shoulders when she reaches the hall entrance, inviting Ishkal who’s three paces behind them. He isn’t exactly comfortable being a part of them yet,

“We're going to get something to eat. Wanna tag along?” she laughs, “my treat.” but he immediately snarks her,

“With my money, you mean.” yeah, yeah. It’s in her inventory, so it’s hers now.

The corridor is a lot more crowded than yesterday. It reeks even heavier of cigarette smoke. She spots Mr Business amongst them. He’s getting cornered by his investors beside the bin. Demanding an explanation and he’s really trying to solicit his way out of this. Feeding them false promises and high hopes. It’s not difficult to imagine what his role was in the whole organ trading black market. But unlike his unsuspecting victims, the prisoners are a lot harder to convince. He’s completely lost their trust after his cowardly display and from the looks of it, the only thing that’s stopping him from getting beaten up is the Felmane adventurers stationed all around.

Just as they’re about to head up the stairs. A Felmane adventurer halts them,

“Where do you think you’re going?” right. They’re still in prisoner’s uniform.

Cyan digs out a glass map from his pocket to show him,

“We’re actually, you know.” He’s cautiously avoiding the word examinees. But, if there’s anything to prove from the stage event they just did. Most people in the hall have probably figured so there’s no point trying to conceal their identities anymore. They’re obviously not commoners. Perhaps they should’ve gone in brown uniforms instead.

“You still can’t be walking around guest areas in that. Go get changed and you can pass.” With that, they’ve got no other choice but to turn around and make their way backstage again. It’s awfully empty now because the other tournament contestants have cleared out. They left their clothes in Bob’s room and he’s nowhere to be found. She doesn’t have his number to contact him either. Whereas Ishkal misplaced his clothes after he’s changed into the uniform. So, they’re going to the dressing rooms where they’ve last seen theatre costumes.

It’s an incredibly dusty place. Racks line half the room, headless brass mannequins the other. The florescent bulbs circling the mirror no longer work. And the single changing room has a curtain that’s popped off some hinges so it’s just loosely hanging about. How is this part of the casino so undermaintained. Does Alyss not organize plays anymore?

But after going through the clothes, Lilith realizes, she probably does. Because the outfits are all pristine. There are wheel marks where the racks are being carted in. So, Alyss just doesn’t bother to hire workers to clean up huh. Guests wouldn’t be back here normally. Or maybe this is just the storage.

Then, she turns around and looks the two boys up and down, they’re unenthusiastically trying to select something that seems the easiest to fit in and out of. Cracking into a gleeful smile. Cyan, beside the coat hanger instantly shivers. Locking eyes with her and muttering,

“Oh no. Not again.” it’s gotten Ishkal to wearily look up,

“What? What’s going to happen?” then he matches where Cyan’s glancing. Meeting her face, she excitedly requests,

“Let me dress you up!” She has two exceptionally pretty subjects, and she won’t want to waste this opportunity. There are already tons of combinations running through her mind. Ishkal isn’t averse to it, instead, he looks rather amused,

“Are all girls like that?” he laughs warmly, and it’s almost as if it’s unintentional when he comments,

“Meena did that too when we were younger, only she’s forced me into her dresses.” but Cyan instantly warns him,

“Don’t get baited.” oh, why is he on Ishkal’s side all of the sudden, “she’s going to make you look like a stripper or a paper boy.”

“A hot stripper, and a hot paper boy.” she corrects, then pleads, “come on. Please, please, please, please! It’s not like you’re losing anything. It’s just clothes.”

“My dignity! That’s what I’m losing.” but Ishkal’s shrugging,

“Why not? Sounds fun.”

“Then you do it alone.” no way!

“It’ll feel like we’re leaving you out.” she’s already selected the outfits, piling them in Ishkal’s arm and approaching Cyan to drag his wrist forward despite he’s protesting,

“I want you to leave me out!” shoving them into the changing room.

“But I don’t want to.” she jokingly tells Ishkal,

“As your team leader, your first duty is to make sure he abides.” he’s playing along,

“Yes mdm.” with a salute before drawing the curtains shut. Leaving a very irritated Cyan to curse, get your greasy claws off me inside and questioning who made her team leader. But Ishkal’s already carrying out her orders. They sound like they’re fighting. The curtains are rattling. Seems like fun. Satisfied with herself, she proceeds to pick out her own clothes. She needs to finish the theme. The blue and white dress is perfect for it. She quickly changes out of her crusty uniform. Securing the leather corset, fluffing up the sleeves. She puts on striped stockings. Hanging a pocket watch around her waist. She had just finished braiding her hair into two fishtails when the boys came out.

Despite she didn’t tell Ishkal which accessories belonged to which outfit; he’s figured it out perfectly. Although, he’s gotten their roles swapped. So now, Cyan’s in a burgundy suit, red and black checkered pants. Goggles around the neck and rings with poker sigils on each finger. Forced to hold the prop cane designed like a skinny bayonet. He’s refused the monocle, so now Ishkal’s wearing it. Ishkal isn't given a shirt. Just a loop sided cape with a metal shoulder cap. Black leather jeans with hanging straps and military boots lined with steel. He’s missing the badass scar down the side of his eye. But the bandages he already has on are pretty in character too. This way is fine. They look good regardless.

Cyan’s really irritated,

“What did you put me in this time.” running in front of the vanity mirror to examine himself, immediately snapping at her,

“I look ridiculous!” she doesn’t think so,

“Haven’t you read the story as a child?” Ishkal knows what she’s on about,

“The King of Spade’s Wonderland?”

“Yeah!” it’s her favorite story.

“The moment you picked out the suit, I immediately knew!” but Cyan doesn’t,

“The fuck’s that?”

“Sheesh, do you not have any childhood?” she says as she casually walks towards the door, trying to distract him out of protesting,

“It’s the story about an orphaned girl following a rabbit down a hole to an alternate universe, called the King of Spade’s Wonderland.” it’s working, they’re departing the dressing room. Ishkal’s adding onto the conversation,

“At first, it’s all fun and dandy. She travelled with Mr Rabbit, drank tea with some crazy guy in a hat, smoked some flowers with a fat caterpillar. But, after spending the night in the first town she reaches, she wakes up to a grisly realization that all the elderly and sickly townsfolk mysteriously died. Even Mr Rabbit didn’t survive! And there was this haunting lullaby that wouldn’t stop sounding the entire night.” He’s read the story too. She enthusiastically continues as they exit the hall, the Felmane adventurer doesn’t stop them this time,

“After some investigation, she finds out that it’s caused by the Witch of Eternal Slumber. Wanting to avenge Mr Rabbit, she heads to the capital and joins the Spades King’s rally to slay the Witch.” They’re idly making their way up to the restaurant.

“So, the Spades King is supposed to be me?”

“Yup! He is described to be extremely charismatic and handsome! And kind. Too kind, to the point of naivety.”

“Then who’s Ishkal? Another character in the book too?”

“I’m the King’s head knight! Wockjab! But my character just wants to be free of monarchal duties.” it immediately makes Cyan scoff,

“That’s a stupid name.” but he’s slightly intrigued, “so why did Wockjab join the rally then?”

“Out of obligation, he’s the head knight, he must. And he hopes that if they slay the Witch who’s plaguing their land, he can finally be released from his duties and go back to his family.” she continues,

“So, they went on an epic quest, destroying the Witch’s minions, survived a withered forest full of carnivorous fauna and giant centipedes. Slept under the stars and sang songs around the campfire. They lost a bunch of comrades along the way but finally, they reached the Witch’s lair! The Castle of Frozen Time, on the very top of Mount Deserted. After a long and arduous battle, they’ve finally slayed the witch!”

“Pfft. That just sounds cliché.” but Ishkal corrects him,

“No, no. You see, the plot twist only comes afterwards!”

“Let me guess. The Witch is the orphan girl’s mom?” that surprises her,

“How did you know? Did you actually read the book?”

“It’s just easy to predict.”

Ishkal is describing, “But that isn’t all to it. After the Witch dies, the entire world begins shaking. Tumultuous cracks start creeping through the land. Dormant volcanoes erupting. luscious greenery shriveling to rot. And in the ocean, something massive surfaces. A bestial snake, towering over the skies. Its entire body large enough to wrap around the thundering heavens. Completely covering the sun. With a terrifying screech, Jormungand has awakened.” They’re taking turns telling the story,

“Without the Witch’s singing to keep it asleep, now the ancient beast is going to devour the world. And there’s only one way to stop it. The orphan girl is the Witch’s daughter. If she takes on the role of the Witch, she can put Jormungand back to sleep.”

“But that also means, she can no longer return to her own world. She’s damned to eternity, in an empty castle, singing forever until her voice goes hoarse and even then, her life won’t come to an end. Because you see, time doesn’t flow on Deserted Mount. That’s why her mother sent her to another world. She didn’t want her daughter to be condemned to the same fate as herself. The Spades King tells her,”

Lilith dramatically reenacts, “Wendy. Please, go home... Go back to where you came and live a happy life.” clasping Ishkal’s hand,

“You have already done more than I can ever ask. It is my foolishness and ignorance that this has all happened. My short sightedness and cynicism, I did not believe the prophecy my ancestors foretold. I deeply apologize. I do not have the audacity to demand any further of your sacrifice.” he’s playing along, theatrically pushing her away,

“No Issac, my King dearest. You have only tried to do what you believed was best. You have done no wrong. We have made a terrible mistake, but I cannot watch the people I grew to love, suffer and die for it.” he clutches before his chest, at a nonexistent dress,

“I will stay. I will fulfil the duties of the Witch. There is plenty of life left for you to live, for everyone to live.”

She shakes her head,

“Then my fairest lady, I shall not let you make this sacrifice alone.” reaching for her pretend crown to lift it off her head, she turns towards Cyan, passing it to him,

“I must forsake my kinghood to you, my most trusted knight. I will stay here with Miss Wendy. As repentance, I will protect her with the rest of my life.” Cyan snaps,

“I don’t want your shitty kingdom!” oh! That’s actually what Wockjab said in the story! Despite Cyan isn’t trying to role play with them, she wipes an imagery tear from her eyes,

“But you must. So please, on account of our old friendship, I can only humbly request of you to adorn this mantle.” he rolls his eyes,

“You look like a fool.” yeah, as she thought, he definitely suits the role of Wockjab more. He’s cluelessly nailing all the lines. She zealously declares,

“Then a fool I must be!” then she’s interrupted,

“You got the roles wrong. Those lines are what the Spades King was supposed to say to Wockjab, not Wendy to the Spades King.” They turned their attention towards the speaker. It’s Bob. They’ve reached the restaurant. He’s in the prisoner’s outfit still. Standing in front of the entrance and receiving odd glances from the passersby. He wasn’t forced to change, he’s probably gotten here by portal.

“We’re just telling Cyan the story since he hasn’t read it.”

“What, you read this shitty story too?” Cyan’s thoughtlessly requesting four seats by the port windows. It’s overlooking a garden in the residential areas below. She defends,

“It isn’t shitty. For a kid’s novel. It’s really poetic.” she spends a few moments getting distracted by a machine snail drink out of man-made fountain beneath them. It’s sprouted with some metal lotuses, gushing black oil instead of water. Little children are running around the creature. Trying to climb on top. Bob’s enthusiastically taking over in explaining the story,

“Yeah! The Heroine who just wants to do good has to become the Witch who kills the elderly and the weak with her potent lullabies. The King who is adamant on slaying the Witch became her greatest guardian and protector. And the Knight who wishes for freedom is now shackled to the throne.” whilst Ishkal orders one of everything on the menu. Cyan is cynical,

“It just sounds like a bad time for everyone.”

“No. It’s not like this.” Ishkal waves a finger at him after the waitress leaves, “Don’t you get it? The story is about pure intentions doesn’t always result in happy endings. Sometimes, you must give up something important for the greater good. Making sacrifices without expecting gratitude. Becoming the tragic villain if you must.”

Lilith finally returns her attention back to the table, “yeah! I even teared up when I reached the ending. It’s so bittersweet!” They spend moments longer discussing different novels written by the same author. Apparently, she’s popular enough that Bob had to do school plays with her stories, whereas Ishkal’s sister used to read him to sleep. So, Lilith asks for their favorite ones.

Bob’s is The Wooden Boy. It surprises her, because this one is a tragedy. She would’ve thought for sure Bob seemed like the kind that prefers happy endings. Who would’ve guessed. He’s retelling them for the sake of Cyan who hasn’t read it.

It’s one about a scientist who created a living puppet out of magic wood. But no matter how hard the scientist tries, he can’t get the wooden boy to understand emotions. But the scientist never gives up, day after day, night after night, he researches tirelessly hoping to one day perfect his creation. To make a living being that can feel, play, love and laugh just like a real boy could.

The wood boy never understands why the scientist tries so hard, why the scientist looks at him with such mournful eyes. He can do everything a real boy could, so what’s the difference if he can’t feel? The scientist tries to explain, emotions are what is necessary for someone to comprehend love. And love is the happiest feeling anyone can feel.

Time passes like that, day by day, year by year, and the scientist eventually ages. His black hair whitens, skin wrinkles, the spark in his eyes dulls whereas the wood boy, pristine as the day he was made. And even until the scientist’s dying breath, he only looks at the wood boy with sad mournful eyes, apologizing to him that he wasn’t able to perfect him in the end.

Convinced that it must be something great, the wood boy goes on a journey to seek the rumored Fairy of Dreams to grant him the wish. The scientist’s wish. To let him understand, what feelings are, to let him feel, what feelings are. But the journey isn’t a simple one. To reach the Fairy of Dreams, he’ll need to traverse through the Land of Mirages where great peril awaits. Dangerous wildlife, hazardous landscapes, where even a forest will try to kill you by trapping you in its illusions.

On his way, he’s met plenty of people who covert the same Fairy. Lost plenty of people to the terrain and its residents. Towards the end, the wood boy has only one ally left. The most useless one he deems. An imbecile, with simple thoughts. Jake. A magical, talking dog whom he accidentally rescued from a smuggler’s ship enroute to the Land of Mirages.

And finally, they reach the entrance to the Fairy’s Dream Realm. It’s past the wooden oak door embedded in a huge glowing tree in the middle of a tentacle ridden swamp. But no matter how much the wood boy pushes. It won’t barge. Until words begin inscribing into the bark. To open the door, a pure heart must be offered to the soil. The wood boy looks at Jake coldly. Jake is cluelessly wagging his tail. Tilting his little head at him. He simply can’t comprehend the words. The wood boy pulls out his dagger. Stab. The door creaks open.

The Land of Dreams is a beautiful place. Bright as the rumors described, with rainbow bubbles floating in the air. He’s walking on purple water; it bounces like gelatin. But things feel off at closer examination. The wood boy squishes something beneath his feet. Eyeballs, brains, sticking out of the jelly lake like Halloween candies. There are bones in the coral reefed seabed. The sky is a hazy pink. It looks frozen in time. Everything is still. Nothing moves, the clouds do not drift. Except the wood boy, and the pulsating silhouette he’s walking towards in the distance. A corpse flower, beating like a heart. Sparkling with misty pollen. Someone speaks,

“No one has entered here for more than a millennium.” it sounds like a woman’s voice, gentle and angelic,

“What is your wish?” It’s the flower. The flower is the Fairy of Dreams itself. And without hesitation, the wood boy tells her,

“I want to be able to feel.”

“Granted.” the moment he did. He’s enveloped in memories. Of the days he spent with the scientist, the meals they shared on the dining table where the scientist tries to make him smile with badly cracked jokes. It hadn’t succeeded then, but it did now. The wood boy laughs. His jokes were rather humorous, in a dry, missing the mark kind of way.

Then he remembers the way the scientist endearingly tucks him into bed before he dims the lamp on his study desk to continue his research. It’s so warm, his chest feels fuzzy, like a soft embrace of summer grass. The sighs the scientist made when he’s buried his face into his hand, but the moment he realizes the wood boy is watching, he always turns around with a bright cheerful smile. He looks so silly! His hair is uncombed, stubble growing on his face, bags beneath his eyes.

On the weekends, the scientist would bring him to the park to watch the butterflies and play catch. The scientist is so bad at the game! He misses every shot he’s thrown and is completely out of breath after just two rounds! The wood boy had always assumed those were the scientist’s hobbies.

Then the feelings turn bitter, heavy, it’s like he’s being dragged down, down, down to somewhere dark and muddy. The scientist is on his death bed, looking at him with such sad, mournful eyes. Everything the scientist did, the scientist did for him. He loved him, but he also understands, the wood boy can never receive these feelings because he’s incomplete. And now there’s regret, even until the very end, the wood boy could not comprehend the scientist’s love.

The abyss gets darker, thorny, it hurts. He sees his friends whom he shared time with on this journey. They joked under the stars, cried before corpses. He finally understands it now. The pain of losing someone. The pain of knowing they can never walk alongside him again.

And the pain doesn’t stop. It hurts, it feels like he’s bleeding, and he can’t breathe. He’s drowning, beneath the waves, beneath the purple water, and he’s looking at the bright pink skies. He sees Jake. The happy, loving pup that’s always there for moral support, that tries his best to help and even when he can’t, he wants to cheer everyone up by enthusiastically wagging his tail. And he remembers his last moments, he sees his last moments, the sharp glint of a knife, against the trusting black beady eyes. Never anticipating it to ever be turned on him.

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

He’s back on the surface again. Staring at the corpse flower. Something wet is streaming down his face that he can’t stop from flowing. It’s tears. He’s crying, and he’s demanding the Fairy,

“This thing called feelings; I don’t want it. Take it back!” everything hurts. His heart feels like it’s being ripped apart. Like claws tearing out his flesh. He feels disgusted, disgusted in his own skin that he wants to peel it off. But it’s too late. A wish that has been granted, can never be undone. The wood boy must live with it. The burden of his own sins, the regret of his own actions, and the sentiment that the happiest days have long slipped past his fingers and he’s never able to return the trust and love that he was given.

There’s a moment of silence after he’s finished the story. Before Cyan raises a questioning eyebrow at him,

“And... this story is your favorite?” with a look that’s wondering if Bob is the true masochist at heart. He’s cluelessly agreeing with a big, goofy smile,

“Yup! I like what it’s trying to convey.”

“What? Ignorance is bliss?”

“Of course not,” Bob huffs a breathy laugh, “It’s to cherish every living moment because one day it may be too late to regret.”

“But the way it’s told is even more depressing than the previous one. No one is happy in the end. Does this author only write tragedies?”

Ishkal went next, “not really. She also writes happy endings.” His favorite story is White Snow. Bob is surprised,

“You think White Snow has a happy ending? It’s the author’s most controversial work. We had to do an entire discussion for literature class.” Oh, she knows this one too! And she agrees with Bob, she won’t exactly call it happy unless Ishkal’s definition of happiness is pain, suffering and mummy issues.

It’s more of a revenge fantasy where the protagonist gets what she wants by becoming the ultimate jackass. Now Ishkal’s retelling it for the sake of Cyan who doesn’t know the context.

It all begins when the protagonist, Giselle, turns twelve. She’s developing a sinister beauty capable of bewitching any man who lays eyes on her to fall deeply in love to the point of insanity and incompetence. By the time she’s thirteen, she’s unwittingly creating chaos in her mother’s court as all her subjects become lovelorn imbeciles that are unable to perform their duties. Fourteen, it escalates to the extent that the Queen’s council begin murdering and scheming against each other out of jealous spites despite they’re currently amidst a war.

Fearing that Giselle may one day bring the ruination of her kingdom, her own Queen mother condemns her into a dungeon somewhere deep in a lightless cavern. But even then, it doesn’t stop the nobles from trying to get her. They’ll try to slip into her cell. Fearful at first. The guards do not care. Sometimes, they even enable. Then they got bold, creeping through the bars with outstretched shadowy hands, a different faceless monster every night. Her mother had turned her eyes away. Anything, to keep her court placated. Hoping that if they can have her, they will stop yearning for her.

Initially, Giselle can't understand why. Why is she locked up. Why did mother leave her? Who are these strangers, why are they approaching her with that disgusting look in their eyes. No... Don’t come any closer. Don’t touch her. Stop! She doesn’t like this. She’ll scream for her mother in terror, plead with blood in her lungs to deaf ears of her assailants. Please stop. Stop it. It hurts. But the nightmare never ends. It hurts. Years passed like this, and her voice has long gone hoarse. She’s out of tears to shed. And now, she’s only able to repeat it in her mind, her one prayer, Mother, please come back, please save me.

Five years later when she is finally freed, before she can even enjoy the sunlight basking down on her skin, she is dolled up and wedded off as a gift to a neighboring kingdom in exchange for war supplies. But her fate hasn’t changed. She is assaulted, abused and almost killed and taxidermized by her new princely husband who is so captivated by her to the point of madness. There’s so much greed in his eyes. He speaks of wanting to preserve her forever in a glass case, only for him to admire.

That night, as his wretched paws closed around her neck, air crushed out of her. She hears something breaking in her mind. It sounds like glass shattering, the things it had repressed, spilling out and boiling over with immensity of a supernova. Devouring her entirely. Jet black hatred. Rage. Fury. Anger. She had enough of praying, enough of waiting for salvation. She finally understands, as her vision darkens around the corners, a ringing deafening her ears, her life is coming to an end. No one is going to rescue her. Mother has abandoned her thoroughly and completely.

If she wants to be saved, if she wants to be free, then she’ll need to carve the path herself.

With whatever dying force she’s able to muster, she stretches for the bedside vase. Tightening her fingers over it. She slingshots her arm. Smashing against the stranger, her supposed husband, thrashing on top of her. Perhaps God has finally decided to show her mercy. Or perhaps the devil has given her strength. But she’s struck him straight on the head. Critical hit.

But this doesn’t feel nearly enough. These new thoughts are getting louder. What has she done that was so vicious, to deserve this suffering? What sin has she committed to spend her entire life repenting, for mother to abhor her to this extent?

She takes the glass shard. Climbing over his shaken frame, still stupefied from the impact. She digs it into his jugular, slides his throat raw and open. Again and again, until she no longer hears the gargle of him choking on his own blood.

Then, she goes before the mirror, looking at her reflection. She's nude. Her skin glows like snow. Her eyes sparkle like stars. Her lips, redder than roses. Her hair, finer than gossamer silk. Her body is lithe as a doll’s, curves like a vase. She touches her face, finally realizing. Ah. So, this is what has cursed her all along. This is why mother has turned her back. Why her prayers fall unheard. She laughs at the irony. The beauty that others so desperately covet, has done nothing but twist her inside out.

And yet, even when she’s repeatedly defiled to the core, the rot is still unable to seep past. Her shallow wrappings remain pretty like old paintings of goddesses hanging on the castle walls for eyes to revere, lust to ensnare. Claws to trap. Greed to own.

It’s disgusting.

With that same bloodied shard of glass. She tears it all apart. Ripping away everything that retches her gut like a festering wound. Gorges her flesh and slices her cheeks. She disfigures herself beyond recognition. Still, the rage in her heart won’t quell. The good in her mind won’t dwell. She can’t fix this creature she’s become. The nightmare has wrapped itself around her ankles, dragging her away somewhere dark, dark, darker, and oh. How sweetly it coos.

Escaping into the night afterwards. She vows vengeance against the people that wronged her, the nobles that corrupted her and most of all, her mother that forsaken her.

Allying herself with the dwarven kingdom whom her mother is warring against, she offers them her allegiance and knowledge. Despite being trapped in a dungeon for a good five years, she still grew up in the castle. She knows the structure of her land, her forces, her rulers and politics. Better than anyone else, she knows her mother, and how she fights. And now, with that very knowledge, she will use it to destroy her.

Wielding a sword forged from the fiery depths of Hell’s Bane, she lays waste to her once home. Together with the dwarven army, they pillaged and murdered her own people to get back at her wretched nation that had discarded her in the cold. She wanted them to feel every bit of pain she had felt. No mercy. No pity. No salvation. Only blood and steel. No one is spared, not even the elderly, weak and the young.

She burns her entire kingdom to the ground.

In the grand finale, she sits on a charred throne in a crumbling castle surrounded by a wasteland, she’s desolated with her own two hands. Her mother’s beloved kingdom in ashes. The noble’s mangled corpses beneath her feet. Outside, bodies piled high as mountains. The sky thundering black rain.

Giselle maniacally laughs to herself. She finally got her revenge that she yearned for. She finally paid back all the suffering she was put through. Lifting her mother’s severed head from her lap, she crookedly smiles at mother’s empty soulless eyes, uttering her final lines with her siren sweet voice, Ishkal imitates,

“Oh, Mother dearest. Can you finally hear my prayers now?” She’s at long last, free from her curse.

“What the heck! How is this a happy ending?” Cyan commentates after he’s done, “this story’s fucked up too.” oh. That’s surprising. She thought for sure Cyan would’ve liked this one considering how much of an edge lord he is.

Ishkal argues,

“Beats the endings where everyone is depressed or dead. At least someone’s happy in this. And even though I summarized that part, the dwarves are really cool. They’re the good guys in this story that are oppressed and enslaved by her mother’s xenophobic kingdom. It’s a win-win situation. The dwarves get their freedom, she gets her revenge. It’s a satisfying conclusion.”

“What do you mean satisfying?” Cyan’s more moralistic than he lets on, “the protagonist literally committed genocide against a whole kingdom because her mother couldn’t love her.”

Ishkal brushes him off with a wave, “She’s in her right to. Imagine being mistreated and defiled your entire life over something you have no control over, it’s hard to remain as a virtuous person afterwards. Anyone would’ve done the same.”

“I probably wouldn’t.” Bob contradicts, “if I were her, I would just go somewhere far away and live the rest of my life peacefully after I killed my husband. The commoners in the story did her no wrong. When she took her wrath out on them, her heart is black as her mother’s.” but Ishkal disagrees,

“Pfft. That just sounds like weakness. Who likes to be trampled on and be okay with it afterwards. If someone fucks you over, it’s only appropriate that you fuck them over.”

“Yeah, but fuck over the right people. Not an entire kingdom.” Cyan retorts.

“You can’t be selective in a war.”

Bob maintains his stance, “I think sometimes, the peaceful solution is to just move on.” but if the protagonist moved on, then the Dwarves would eventually be wiped out by the protagonist’s mother. Her intentions were rotten, but the outcome helped the actual good guys in the story. So, she’s with Ishkal on this one.

But before Lilith’s able to add her input, Bob changes the topic, “hold up.” he finally realizes, questioning Ishkal, “why are you even here?” right! She hasn’t introduced them yet! So, she instead says,

“Bob, Ishkal, Ishkal, Bob. Bob’s the one who made us the truth bullets and everything. And Ishkal guilt tripped us into letting him in the party. We’ll be teaming up for now.”

“You.” Cyan corrects, “guilt tripped you.” Unlike Cyan, Bob is quick to receive him with a warm welcome after a moment of contemplation,

“I see... Well, your abilities are pretty sick so I would rather have you has an ally than an enemy.” before offering him a hand to shake.

“We can all agree to disagree. Friends?” Looks like the only one he was skeptical about was her. Did she really come off as that useless?

“Temporary teammates.” Ishkal takes it regardless.

At this moment their food starts to arrive, so they wrapped up the conversation to focus on the feast before them instead. There’s an entire stuffed octopus on a plate. The tentacles wrapping around sausages, sitting above a meat pie. Then, there’s something baked in a copper pan layered with cheese and herbs garnish. Are those snails swimming in the tomato stew? She thinks she sees shells in there.

The burgers are something she recognizes. Killian makes it a lot in his Tavern. Except the buns are shaped into cogs, and the vegetables are artistically placed instead of being tossed to a corner like a sad side dish that people skip. There is also a large basket of fries drenched in mysterious green sauce. Only when she takes a bite out of it, she realizes, it’s spinach cream. In fact, all the flavors are rather familiar to her. Greasy, cheesy, meaty, fishy at times, but fancier.

They’ve ordered too much food. Or perhaps not. Because it’s here she finds out, Ishkal eats like a beast. Even when they’ve all tapped out on bloated stomachs, he keeps going. How the hell is he still in shape with the obscene calories he’s inhaling. That and Bob is probably addicted to caffeine. He’s chugged every caffeinated beverage on the menu.

When the desserts come, Bob is finally defeated by the coffee cake, so he starts to make small talk again. Abruptly asking about Ishkal’s sister with the most clueless expression on his face. Lilith and Cyan stiffen. He’s blunt. He’s very blunt. Even Lilith knows better to not bring it up. At his remark, Ishkal chokes on his ice cream. Coughing with the long silver spoon still in his mouth. After he’s taken it out, he simply frowns, he doesn’t want to talk about it. It’s none of their concern and they have no business prying. Unlike the novel he was enthusiastic to share, looks like it won’t be easy trying to get his personal story. Why are people so complicated. Before the mood can sour, Bob quickly salvages by changing the topic, rambling on about a popular shooter game that everyone’s playing. At least he’s good at reading the room. But only Cyan seems to know what he’s talking about so now they’re measuring dick sizes on who has higher rank points.

Lilith isn’t interested anymore. Now that Bob’s brought up Ishkal’s sister. She was curious too, what exactly was it that got her into that situation. Why did she do the things she did? But Lilith is trying to be subtle by beating around the bush and Ishkal is more than happy to let her dance in circles getting nowhere.

By the end of lunch, the only thing she manages to dig up is that he isn’t from Kusma. Even got called a racist because of her assumption just because he’s tanned. To which she defended, she just can’t name places under Golden Eagle’s territory off the top of her head. Then he changes his insult to ignorant. Yet he still refused to tell her where he’s actually from. Prick.

After the satisfying meal, Bob portals them back into the hall with five minutes to spare. Ishkal offers to join them later. He’s going for a smoke break. Just hearing it makes her crinkle her nose and grimace at the imagined smell. Surely those burning sticks of crusty grass can’t be that good, right? How old is he even. Shops don’t usually sell them to minors to begin with. And when she asks, he sarcastically tells her,

“I’m a 5000-year-old desert king trapped in the body of a child.” Cyan doesn’t miss a beat to retort,

“Too bad your brain’s stuck as a child too.” so Ishkal’s flips him off before they separated.

By the time they reconvened, the lights gone off again in the hall. The final match of bracket one’s starting and all the prisoners around them have their holograms up. Betting on the last two contestants. They managed to squeeze themselves as close to the stage as possible.

It’s here Cyan suggests perhaps they should try their luck too. They have the money to gamble now. Might as well try it. Lilith can still play in the tournament even if she only has $1.

Waving her hologram open, she realizes the betting system is more convoluted than she thought. It’s currently 70% to 30% heavily favored towards Spider, so if they bet on spider and she wins, they’ll get 0.3x the payout whereas if they bet on Snake, they’ll get 0.7x the amount. That means, even if she drops a million on Snake and ends up winning, she’ll only receive 700k in return.

However, she can also choose to bet on more specific things with higher multipliers. Like, how many rounds will it take for the game to conclude. If she hits the precise number and gets it right, then the payout is 10x. If she hits a range of numbers, like less than five, or above five, then the payout is only 0.5x. She’s also able to bet on who she thinks is the winner of each round with a 1x pay out. And if she gets 3 consecutive guesses correct, she gets 3x on top of the 1x reward. But if the game ends before the rounds she bets on are up, then she forfeits her bets for the rounds that aren’t played. Basically, the more unlikely the chances, the better the multipliers.

Cyan suggests they should just go with a simple bet. Who’s going to win the first round. The multiplier looks the most decent, and it’s guaranteed that they’ll either get 1mil extra or they’ll lose 1mil. Whereas Ishkal points out that if they’re betting, then they should go bigger. Why risk 1mil for 1mil return when they can potentially hit the 10x payout. Snake only has $1 in his inventory. So, it’s very likely that the game can possibly end in just one turn.

Bob on the other hand, is trying to convince them that they shouldn’t bet at all and just be observers. Having a larger inventory in the tournament is an advantage.

To Lilith, it looks more fun to be a gambler than the gambled upon. She wants to do it just for the sake of the adrenaline rush.

In the end, they settled with rock paper scissors which ended up in 5 draws before she finally won. Excitedly leaping up and down with her victory granting scissors. She gets to decide. Opening her hologram. It’s 90% to 10% now.

Cyan and Ishkal are right. If they are to gamble, then they should go with bigger multipliers. The overall victory bet isn’t worth it. Considering both their advice, she hits her selections on the screen, registering 500k for single round victory, and another 500k for snake wins first round and 500k for snake wins second round. This way, they mitigate their chances of losing money.

If snake loses first round, that means she’ll be right on the single round victory, which gives her 5mil instantly whilst she only forfeits 1mil. Whereas if she’s wrong about the single round victory, then that means snake must’ve won, he only has $1 so he can only play one turn no matter who starts first, she’ll forfeit 500k on the single round victory bet whilst she gains another 500k from the snake wins first round bet. So, she evens out with a net profit of nothing whilst still having a good chance of profiting 500k from the second bet.

Deciding this is the best bet placements. She locks in her selection. The moment she does, another blue sigil engraves into her wrist. It’s Alyss’s spell lock. Oh...! Is this a preventative measure to hinder betters from messing with the match themselves? Well, it isn’t like she has the Magia ability to do so anyways.

Regardless, they anticipatingly await the match to start.