Tang of blood, I smelt.

Plink of dripping blood, I heard.

Clutter of wretched guts, I watched.

Two blood-soaked runes, I read.

Familiar pale handsome face, I glimpsed.

Dishevelled moist hair, I caught.

Guerdon of bloodfest, I shrieked.

And in a sudden fright, I fell.

Oh, Gidden, how was it that, after witnessing countless deaths amidst wars and quests, was I able to see and flinch from the worst wake of tormenting ceremony? His eyes bulged with a frozen terror. His breath was stolen. The ropes that bound his wrists danced a morbid melody as his lifeless weight hung heavy.

The man named Liu Sheng now became nothing, but a broken, gutted husk.

A rathe clutter of footsteps boomed from behind, gasps filled my ears. A glimpse behind revealed a woman helping behind my back, or rather a fellow woman who I was meant to help behind hers. Ayako Kinbara finally arrived, frowning. However, as her gaze fell on his ghastly corpse, a huge scowl etched over her lips, carved with utter terror and disgust.

“What… in the world… is happening?”

A mere two ticks of locked eyes were all it took. A stream of vomit spat out of her mouth, followed by ragged gasps and gnarled coughs. Her fists clenched, reflecting her desperate need to shut out the sight before her. As an agent, she had seen death in all its horrific forms, perhaps. Yet, this scene, with its unspeakable horror, brought about an unease that went beyond even the bleak finality of death.

“Bloody…”

Truly, it was utterly bloody. Yet, an even deeper horror festered beneath the surface, a chilling enigma that gnawed at my insides. Elusive questions swarmed my mind, ‘nothing’ slowly morphing to something. No matter how fiercely I screamed in silent protest, my eyes remained locked on this unfolding nightmare, a frightening reprise etched into reality. From Leanne's desperate struggle to Sheng's brutal demise, the world offered no respite, no glimmer of joy. Its doer, shrouded in the shadows of the unknown, awaited some semblance of justice coming to play. Only darkness bade their fortune a favour.

Ayako drew herself back, her eyes never again falling to his hapless fate.

“Attention, all units,” she cried. “Liu Sheng is found in the garden greenhouse… already dead. I repeat, Liu Sheing is found dead inside the greenhouse at the palace garden.”

And here I was, once hailed an Empress of Sileland and Hallow of Grit, now fell to her own knees before the Banekin’s show inside the Solheim palace. Slowly accustomed to watching every inch of his bloody guts, a pang in my stomach slowly faded. Was it because I cast a Cure spell unwillingly? Or an angel behind my back fondling it with gentle care?

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“Hey you! Get up,” Ayako hemmed, then pulled me up and pushed me back. “Quit staring over that bloody menace.”

Her strong push walked me out of the clear house, never again turning our eyes at that gruesome display. After our complete leave, she flung the door and shut with a resounding thud. Her head bowed, she gasped for air, her breaths ragged with terror. As for me, my mind was a desolate wasteland, my gaze fixed on a void from afar.

Soon after, two men in black suits arrived before us and cried, “Where’s Sir Liu?”

“Gutted inside,” replied Ayako. “Word of advice, I dare you to watch many cat videos before you sleep.”

They opened the door and set their foot into the house. Soon after a dozen ticks, they rushed out of the house and barked a rough cough, an ugliest terror now stuck into the eye of their mind.

“Holy fucking shit,” one of them cried.

“You’re right… you’re right,” gasped the other. “I won’t really have a good night's sleep.”

Time stretched into an agonising eternity. A steady stream of figures entered the house, some pale and scared, others resolute, their eyes filled with grim determination. Ayako, ever vigilant, ushered me to a nearby bench. We slumped down together, both desperately gasping for air. Then, in a gesture of silent comfort, she draped her arm around my shoulders. Her gaze, however, hinted at a deeper concern, as if she were on the verge of a question too heavy to voice.

“How… did you find him there?” she asked.

“I… do not know, truth be told,” I said. “This place seems to be far more different than at my own time’s”

“Yeah, I know, but did you sense something in there beforehand? Have you smelled something from outside?”

“No, I smell nothing in there… until I step inside the house.”

“What made you get inside the greenhouse?”

“Greenhouse?”

“The house we were at. That… you know what I mean.”

“Right, so I… uhh… I try to feel something… something familiar. Hence, I walk through there… surely. You know, the escape hall?”

“Oh, right. So you’ve tried to reminisce about yourself in this place, eh? Have you gone in there before?”

“Yes, I could remember a time, a terrible time. Ever since the time of my birth.”

“What? What is it? Was there some sort of insurrection?”

A throbbing agony erupted within my head, a sluggish ache that pulsed with the rhythm of forgotten anguish. Perhaps the memory itself was the tormentor, compelling me to revisit a past I so wanted to forget. But her name, that would never again sully my lips. No, her soul, unworthy of the divine light it once held, deserved only oblivion. The abyss awaited.

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“No, it was more of a… curse. A curse fitting for a favour towards those… those bloody whoresons.”

“And who are these ‘whoresons’ you say?”

“I do not want to speak their name, for their mere existences deserve to be perished to utter oblivion.”

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“Hmmm.”

Ayako fell silent, her gaze lost in the night sky above. Her breaths echoed mine, ragged and heavy. Silence, once a soothing fellow, now became a suffocating foe. The memory that haunted me, a wellspring of both pain and perverse longing, threatened to pull me under once more. My hand thirsted to reach up, as if to brush away the crushing weight of the past.

“To tell you, honestly, I kinda feel the same way, too,” said Ayako.

“What do you mean?”

“I also want to forget something in the past, something that I’d done from a little me. I thought it could’ve been better, but in reality, it was worse,” she then slowly giggled, her head shaking with a grim smile. “Even now, I’m longing for him to be right before my eyes… fine and well. But still, his traces were left unknown.”

“So you miss your lover?”

“My younger brother, you bloody wag.”

“Younger brother…,” silence fell once more. This time, it was my lips sealing from my bewilderment, unable to put words into the depth of my... envy. It gnawed at me, urging me to plead for an answer. Love, I saw in her eyes, but beneath it lay a darkness, a genuine burden we now shared. “What did your younger brother look like?”

“I don’t know… kinda look like me, I guess,” she giggled.

“Most enlightening, indeed.”

“Yeah, he is,” Ayako reached into her pocket, a tiny grin on her lips, and pulled her smartphone. With a few taps, she turned the screen towards me, revealing a portrait of three figures. A woman, with an uncanny likeness to Ayako, stood proudly between two children: a girl and a boy. But as my gaze lingered, the woman's smile faltered, replaced by a frown and a haunting emptiness in her eyes. There was no joy, no ease in her posture, just a hollowness that mirrored the void in the air around them. “At first, I thought you had two children.”

“Silly, these two kids are me and my younger brother… Kenji.”

“Ken… gee?”

“Kenji… Kenji Kinbara.”

“I see, so what were his qualities back then?”

“Basically, the opposite. ‘Worthless’, as… my mother had said.”

“So, a child unworthy of your family’s cause?”

Suddenly, a searing glare lanced at me. Her hand clenched into a tight fist, a stark contrast to the gentle smile she wore moments before. Deep furrows etched across her brow and lips needed no further explanation. My words, it seemed, had sparked a fire within her, a blaze of real and genuine wrath.

“Ummm… did I rub you up the wrong way?” I asked.

Her frown eventually faded, becoming a ghostly grin. Perhaps forbearing from her outburst? But then she shook her head, rejecting the fleeting passion and the potential ramifications of her fury. Her eyes rolled, and a weary sigh escaped her lips.

“If you could’ve been born at this very age, I’d unironically pull out every strand of your hair until you’re bloody bald,” she grunted.

“But alas, I am nothing like those petty wenches clawing each other’s hair like a wild puss, for you would fear a blade casting into—”

Her gaze met mine again, and a flicker of crimson-black within her eyes shot a jolt of terror coursing through every fibre of my being. Seizing upon my numbness, she darted a hand towards my head, tugging out a clump of hair with a swift, brutal motion. A sharp sting flared at the braid before fading away.

“Awwh,” I groaned after her eyes freed every thew. “What is that for?”

“Giving you a slight taste of my medicine.”

“Medicine? For what?”

“And wow,” she interrupted, ignoring my question. “You do have some grey hair.”

“Grey? What do you mean by ‘grey’?”

“What? You haven’t seen an old fellow before?”

“Yes, and their hair was likely white.”

“And you… probably become one soon.”

“Shut up, I am still young and sprightly.”

“How old are you again?”

“Thirty-one,” I said.

She laughed, “Same… same,” her arm placed over my shoulder and pushed my head towards hers. “We’re totally gals. Young gals, for real.”

“But we are thirty-one, right?”

Her grin faded, leaving behind a deeper frown. Her eyes, which had held a ray of hope mere braids before, widened in a wordless scream. Despair, raw and unwavering, arose from her very core.

“Don’t make my back ache again.”

“Your backache?”

Then a purple-haired man in a suit came towards me and cried, “Miss Aya, what’re you up to?”

“Oh, Evige,” said Ayako, then she stood up and groaned, her hand caressing the lower back. “Bloody hell… thank you for this, you blondie bitch.”

“It is due to your drooping posture, you dullard,” I mumbled.

My gaze lingered on the man known as Evige, a curious kinship pulling at the boundaries of my thoughts. His face had an uncanny likeness to someone from my past, but the name remained stubbornly out of grasp. Frustration gnawed at me as I sifted through the dense fog of my youth. A single, cleansing gust, I yearned, to sweep away the haze and grant me pellucid sight.

“Sorry for being quite lazy,” Ayako continued. “But what is it? Do you find something new and interesting?”

“No, I was only checking you… and probably your dear partner-in-crime,” replied Evige, casting a glance upon me. “That horrible sight totally ruins my night.”

“Thanks for nothing, I guess,” she sighed exasperatedly. “Do I have to go through that over again?”

“What do you mean? You’ve faced many deaths before in your entire career starting from your high school days, so clearly you’re already getting used to it. Right, young detective?”

“At least, they weren’t quite more hideous than that bloody abomination. Besides, I’m already thirty-one—Wait, no, I deserve to be entitled to that.”

“I was just joking around,” he chuckled. “Besides, your back pain speaks for itself.”

“Fuck off,” she jumped in unison, arms flung wide and legs kicking high,. “I’m still younger than those naive bitches in my class married to their cocky husbands.”

“At least, they got to spend their night together in bed.”

“Ha ha ha,” she scoffed, then gaped her glaring eyes. “Nice counter. But no, I'd rather have a good night sleep alone.”

“But you’ve got about… twenty-nine years before you’ll have your… midlife crisis.”

“So what? Do I need to give birth to a child? Besides, you sound like you’re quite desperate to find one, maybe you gotta keep your balls in check first before someone’s gonna make you dry and all-out smacked.”

“Relax, don’t think I’m trying to flatter you,” he chuckled. “Woman with unsuitable charm isn’t up to my taste.”

“And a man with drab humour can’t catch a lady’s heart, but merely her threepenny bits, whisker biscuit, north and south, and even the one where the sun doesn't shine.”

“Uh-huh,” he chuckled, everything sounding sham, then broadened his grin. “Least, I get a taste of it.”

“And yet, I’m a woman of unsuitable charm.”

“Eh…”

“Quit playing around, let’s just proceed—You know what, let’s just wait for that famous redhead poetaster or babbler, he is.”

“He’s a doctor.”

“I know, but calling him a poetaster suits him more.”

“If you say so,” he shrugged, and so she did, but briefly.

“In the meantime, snoop around—”

“No,” he interrupted, his finger pointing and tapping on his eye. “You snoop around the crime scene, young detective.”

She rolled her eyes and sighed, “Bloody hell,” then turned her eyes towards me and asked me. “Mind you sitting there for a while?”

“Or perhaps I could be a good help to find a hatch.”

“Hatch for what?”

“Hatch into the escape hall.”

“Oh, right,” she nodded. “Come along then.”