The early morning sun painted the quiet street with hues of orange and pink as a young woman stood in front of a bar, overseeing the workers diligently changing the name sign. Another young woman who looked like a younger version of Sophie approached her.

"So you've really decided to go with that Albionian man?" Sophie raised an eyebrow, her tone tinged with both amusement and annoyance.

Amelie turned to face her, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Oh, come on, are you still mad at me? Don't shoot the messenger! If you want Angie's attention, maybe try a different strategy other than seduction. Maybe the one that's not labeled 'rejected' in her book."

Sophie pouted, Amelie had hit the mark with her words. As they continued their banter, another young woman wo looked like a younger version Angelina, joined them, concern evident in her voice.

"Alright, you two, save the bickering for a less crucial moment. Now," Angelina turned to Amelie, "are you really going through with this?"

Amelie nodded solemnly, and the realization of her departure hit Sophie and Angelina. Their expressions mirrored the sadness they felt at the prospect of Amy leaving.

"Oh, come on, stop sulking now, will you? And it's not like I am leaving forever. I am just a pilgrim; I will return with Lyzzie when we are tired of the life of intrigue," Amelie reassured them with a wry smile.

"Yeah, and by that time, we all will be old women," Sophie retorted, her frustration apparent.

"I will keep visiting," Amelie promised, trying to lighten the mood.

A brief pause hung in the air before Sophie spoke again, her tone softened. "Alright, but if you don't visit every month, I will... call an angry Angie on your lying ass, and you will be sorry when I am done." She pouted and Angelina looked at Sophie with a 'WTF!' look.

Amelie chuckled, "Sure, I will visit every month."

"Take care of yourself, ok." Angelina said as she turned and smiled at Amelie.

"I will. You take care of my home, will you?" she looked at the bar's new sign - 'The Pilgrim.' The sign sparkled in the morning light, symbolizing the beginning of a new chapter for Amelie.

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Rain beat relentlessly on the cobblestone street. A silhouette of a man wearing a hat, drenched and haggard approached the door of a well lit building.

He pushed open the door and the warmth inside the bar embraced him, a stark contrast form the cold rain outside. The muted murmur of patrons, clinking glasses, and muffled laughter filled the room. Lysander scanned the faces, searching for two figures amid the crowd.

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His heart ached as he spotted them – Angelina and Sophie Muller. Friends of his late wife, Amelie. Lysander, with a determined stride, approached the duo seated at a corner table, his hat dripping raindrops onto the polished floor.

"Lysander, what a surprise, I saw your message, what on earth brought you here at this ungodly hour? And where's Amelie?" Angelina's eyes scanned the room, realizing that Lysander was alone.

Sophie chimed in, her tone lighthearted, "Ah, the slave without its master, not something you see everyday. Amelie not with you tonight?"

Lysander looked at Sophie, tears welling up in his eyes though they were masked as he was drenched and by the shadow the hat was casting on his face "Amelie... She's not with me anymore."

"What do you mean she's not with you. *gasp* Did she leave you?" Sophie asked.

Angelina on the other hand sensed the gravity of the situation. Lysander's silence spoke volumes. She looked at his haggard appearance, concern etched on her face, "Lysander, what's wrong? You look like you've been through hell. What happened to Amy?"

He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself before replying, "We must talk." The weight of his words hung heavily in the air as he motioned for them to move to a more private area. Sophie and Angelina looked at each other nodded and followed Lysander to the backroom.

Sophie raised an eyebrow, "Alright, spill it. What's going on?"

He stayed silent for a moment, tears welling up but held back, before finally breaking the news. "Amelie... The Chamber got hold of her. She bore witness to one of their operations. They... they eliminated her."

Both Angelina and Sophie were shocked. They denied it at first, "There's no way they killed her. Amelie was stronger than all of us. You are saying they killed a Elite Viable who was on the verge of becoming a Master?"

Sophie too wanted to ask more questions but her playful demeanor shifted as she saw the pain in Lysander's eyes.

Lysander continued "Upon discovering the truth, I embarked on a vengeful rampage, but I couldn't reach the one responsible for her demise. They pursued me relentlessly, forcing me to escape Albion. I was lost, unsure of where to turn. I arrived here directly. I failed. I couldn't protect her. My beloved Amy, they snatched her away from me." Lysander's voice cracked.

The news settled slowly. Angelina suppressed her sorrow with a fiery anger, her aura flared up she fists clenched in silent fury, the table they were sitting at cracked due the weight of her fist. Meanwhile Sophie started to cry bitterly. "You said you would protect her! That's why we sent her with you! Look what happened now! Go! Go and bring her back!" she shouted at Lysander, crying.

Lysander just looked at them, barely controlling his tears, as Angie hugged a crying Sophie to her bosom. "He said he'd protect her Angie. She's gone now. Amy's gone Angie!" she said shuddering.

Minutes turned into hours as things clamed down in the backroom. Sophie was the first to break the silence. Her voice hoarse because of the crying, she asked Angelina, "What are we going to do now, Angie?"

Lysander heard Sophie's words. What was he going to do now? He - "I've lost everything. My love was torn away from me. I shall not rest until every last one of them pays the price for their transgressions. Every agent, every puppet master manipulating the strings—I will track them down, one by one, until nothing remains. Here, amidst the façade of a bar, her dream, I shall rebuild my life. Yet beneath this veneer of normalcy, a storm shall brew. I will gather information, patiently awaiting the opportune moment to unleash chaos upon those who dared to snatch her from my arms. They shall not discern my approach until it is too late. 'The Pilgrim' shall stand as their harbinger of retribution."

A moment of silence followed, only the distant rumble of thunder punctuating Lysander's words. "I swear by the love we shared, by the life they unjustly seized from us, that I shall mete out justice. Should I falter in this endeavor, let my name be erased from memory, lost in the annals of time. May the world never again utter the names Lysander St. Clair and Amelie von Rommel in the same breath."