Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

A Fated Dawn

Edelgard Von Hresvelg wore a neutral expression as she walked down the palace hall, her uncle Volkhard right next to her.

It had been three years since she and her uncle had to flee the Adrestian Empire for the Kingdom. Back then, she was just a little girl, but now she isn't!

She was twelve now, old enough to help her father. She won't run again. She would do whatever it took to get the life she lost back.

Especially those days of playing with her siblings, of watching her mom and dad smile…

"Prepare yourself, Edelgard," Uncle Volkhard told her as they reached a set of large doors guarded by two elite knights.

Edelgard smiled briefly before hiding it.

Stop it, Edelgard! Royalty shouldn't show their emotions! Edelgard scolded herself as the knights opened the giant doors.

On the other side was the imperial throne room, the center of the greatest empire in the world.

Decisions that shape the continent are made here, and the room's grandeur reflects that. Its walls were made of the highest quality stone in the known world. On the far end of the room was a great throne illuminated by the red-stained glass window behind it.

But Edelgard didn't care about the throne. No, she cared about who was upon it.

Sitting on the throne was her father, King Ionius IX.

Edelgard's neutral expression was broken by a rush of worry as she looked at her father.

It had been three years since she'd any of her immediate family, and that time clearly hadn't been kind to him.

When she last saw him, Ionius had brown hair like here, with a built body. He looked like a true ruler.

Now though, his hair had whitened and became unkempt. His body had withered, leaving him looking malnourished, like a peasant who hadn't eaten in weeks.

"Father!" Edelgard yelled as she ran towards her father and jumped on him.

"Ed- Edelgard?!" Ionius asked in shock as he looked down at his daughter. "What are you doing here?"

Edelgard suddenly stopped hugging her father and got off of him. "Sorry, Father. I've just missed you. Are you alright?"

"Yes, of course. Now, what are you doing here?"

"Didn't you call us back? Saying you need my help?" Edelgard asked nervously.

If her father didn't call her here, then who did?

"It was my decision to return," Uncle Volkhard said as he walked towards the throne. "Her presence would greatly help the project your other children are working on."

"Yo- you!" Ionius growled, but any fight he had quickly faded into despair.

"Father?" Edelgard asked slowly as she noticed said despair.

She'd never seen her father make such an expression. He was always perfectly stoic when in the throne room, yet now he looked like he was on the edge of tears.

"Edelgard, my daughter, I'm sorry," the king apologized to his daughter after a moment.

"There's no need to grow so depressed, your majesty," Volkhard said while placing a hand on Edelgard's shoulder. "After all, you'll get to see your daughter more now."

"Father, where is everyone?" Edelgard asked as she finally realized the throne room was empty.

Not only that, but none of her siblings greeted her either. Did the political fighting force them to run to?

"The throne room doesn't see much use these days," Volkhard said as he tightened his grip on Edelgard's shoulder, causing Ionius to flinch. "But it has been a while since you've seen your siblings, hasn't it?"

"Yes," Edelgard answered as a sense of dread built up inside her.

"Lord Arundel," Ionius called to him with a pleading voice.

"Don't worry, my king," Volkgard bowed. "She's in good hands."

Edelgard felt chills run down her spine.

Edelgard followed her uncle to a part of the palace she'd never been to before.

She grew more and more worried the longer they walked.

The palace almost felt empty and lifeless. They had only passed soldiers so far, none of whom she recognized. It was almost as if all the soldiers had been replaced, which didn't make sense.

Palace guards weren't just random mercenaries; they were an elite force meant to protect the emperor and his bloodline. Replacing them all would be nearly impossible.

The imperial princess looked up at her uncle with suspicion.

Why had he brought her back home when her father hadn't called for them?

He had been acting strange lately, but Edelgard simply thought it was because of her mother's disappearance. Could it be something more?

"Isn't something the matter, my dear niece?" Volkhard asked without even bothering to look down at her.

"Nothing, Uncle," Edelgard lied through her teeth.

"Good, we won't want anything interrupting your reunion with your siblings. One of them should be in the room up ahead."

"What?" Edelgard asked while they turned into a hallway that led to a set of doors.

"That's right, I never did tell you, did I? All well, you'll see soon enough. After all, one of them should be helping with one of our experiments. We might miss it if we don't hurry," Volkhard said with a sadistic smile that almost made Edelgard's legs give out from under her.

Her instincts were telling her to run, but she clenched her fist.

One of her brothers or sisters could be on the other side, in pain. She couldn't run knowing that.

Edelgard wasn't someone who could run when her family was in danger. Such cowardice went against the very core of her being.

The Imperial Princess ran towards the door. With each step, she felt her legs growing stronger, her resolve strengthening.

She pushed open the door and ran to the other side.

Instead of seeing one of her siblings, Edelgard found herself in a room occupied by a man she recognized.

She would never forget that man's repugnant appearance. He had bright hair that was almost orange, or at least part of his balding head did. He had a small mustache of the same color that paled in comparison to her father's beard. The man was also completely unfit, having chosen not to train but a feast.

Edelgard especially hated the man's clothing. He looked so silly in him that Edelgard would've thought him a jester instead of the prime minister. She like the current fashion in the alliance way more.

That's right, Prime Minister Ludwig. Also known as Duke Aegir, or as she liked to call him, Duke Bugwig. He was someone she had always been taught not to trust due to being power-hungry despite being second only to her father. e

The man stopped looking through a giant wall window on the far side of the room.

Edelgard noticed his smile grow larger when he saw her.

She ignored him, though, and ran towards the window before losing all the strength in her legs yet again.

On the other side of the window was a room filled with instruments. Some of them looked like the ones Edelgard had seen used by court physicians, while others looked like tools a mage would use.

Inside the room were three more people she'd never seen before. Two of them were dressed in doctor's robes, while the other was dressed like a mage.

In the middle of the room were two chairs, one of which was empty.

The other had one of Edelgard's younger siblings, her smallest brother.

His complex was pale, only a few shades off from a corpse. His hair was starting to lose its brown hue in places. He looked so small for a nine-year-old.

But what struck Edelgard the most was his dead eyes. He looked like he didn't even know where he was or what was going on. It was as if his soul had left his body. He was wearing clothing one would wear during an operation.

"Hmm, it seems we got here just in time," Volkhard said as he slowly caught up to Edelgard.

"That's right, Lord Arundel," the prime minister said with a disgustingly cheerful voice. "I wasn't expecting you to get here so soon."

"It never hurts to be early," Volkhard replied as he walked towards the window.

A door in the other room opened, letting in another boy wearing similar clothing to Edelgard's brother. Behind him was a second-mage-looking person.

"What is this? Just what is going on!?" Edelgard demanded answers with a look of disgust on her face.

"It is just a routine experiment," Volkhard answered while gesturing towards the boy who'd just entered the room. "You see that boy?"

Edelgard slowly looked over the boy who was being forced into the second seat next to her brother.

He had bright red hair and strange auburn eyes. He looked like he was around Edelgard's age and was much healthier than her brother.

Edelgard's attention fell back upon the boy's strange eyes. Even as the doctors poked nettles into his skin, the boy barely reacted. His eyes looked tired and dead yet somehow unbroken. It was like he accepted whatever was about to happen to him but still clung to something.

"He's just a random crestless commoner we found for today's test. He will receive a special blood transfusion from your brother, with the intent to see how his body reacts to an attempted crest transfer," Volkhard told Edelgard, in the same way one would report on the weather.

"That's impossible; you can't transfer crest! It's like you've always said, the goddess gives certain people crest; trying to transfer them to another would go against her will!" Edelgard shouted at Volkhard.

Her uncle also made sure she followed the teachings of the goddess. He was a firm believer in the church and would tolerate something that so clearly broke its tenets.

Volkhard snickered.

"What?" Edelgard asked, not understanding what was so funny.

"It doesn't matter right now; you'll understand in due time. You should be watching the experiment instead."

"Even if it doesn't yield any results?" Duke Ludwig asked despite seeming to take pleasure in Edelgard's suffering. "Most of these useless peasants die rather quickly, don't they? But what could we expect from such inferior beings."

The daughter of the emperor felt repulsed by the Duke's words. She didn't care particularly care about commoners, but they didn't deserve to die.

Edelgard cliched her fist and instinctively activated the power of her crest. Even if her crest was a minor crest of Seiros, it was still the crest belonging to the Adrestian Empire's royal family. It would aid her, no matter what.

What she would do after, she truly didn't know. All she knew at that moment was that her brother was suffering, and she needed to help him.

Her small fist hit the glass window!

"Augh!" She yelled as her fist failed to break the glass.

Impossible! What could that glass be made of?! She thought before hearing an amused laugh come from Volkhard and Duke Aegir.

Edelgard looked up to see him look amused at her outburst. Like he was looking at an ant trying to break out of its farm.

"What's happened to you?" Edelgard asked with a snarl.

"What kind of question is that? Nothing happened," Volkhard answered with a cruel smile. She only now realized how wrong his mannerisms were. "Now, let's get you ready; we wouldn't want to leave your other siblings waiting, now would we?"

Fire. Fire. Fire. Fire.

It burned in his veins. Shirou could feel it trying to burn him away from the inside. His breaths labored. The air itself felt like it was boiling as it moved toward his molten lungs. His legs didn't work. Were they still there, or had they melted?

The tight grip on both his arms hurt so bad like he was being crushed. The two dragging him through the dungeon were unfocused blobs. His surroundings were a blur.

They tossed him in a cell. His impact on the cold stone floor barely registered. He was too delirious.

Was he in the cell he'd first been in after being kidnapped? Kidnapped while walking down the street of this horrific world, he suddenly found himself in.

The red-haired boy convulsed on the floor. His mind sent out scattered prayers – pleas – for help. For an end to the pain. It was too much. There was no one to help him. He was utterly alone.

He clenched his chest, his heart feeling like it was about to explode. He couldn't even scream in agony. The only sounds he could make were whimpers between horrid breaths.

Shirou could feel it get worse. The pain. It was consuming him. His consciousness. The world was getting so dark. His eyes so very heavy. He couldn't resist.

The screams of others around him – just as helpless as he was – were his only lullaby as agony tore him away from the waking world.

Shirou Emiya didn't dream because that would imply sleep led him to anything but nightmares.

He lay on the ground, surrounded by terrible debris. The ruins of his home town in flames. He had this nightmare so many times. Every night he dreamt of the Fuyuki Fire. Him running as countless screamed for their lives. Pleading to be saved as he selfishly ran away.

Tonight, the screams were so much louder. So much more numerous. The flames were so much stronger.

And Shirou couldn't run tonight. He was trapped. His body broken as it lay on top of an unnatural hill of wreckage. The pain ran through him worse than when he was awake. Continuing to grow stronger as the unnatural flames consumed the world around him.

The young boy could only stare helplessly and hopelessly as the flames grew closer. They were consuming his soul, and there was nothing he could do.

Was this his punishment for living when everyone else died?

Skyscrapers melted and fell, the crash shaking the world. The flames were filled with hate as they moved toward him. The screams somehow grew even louder.

50. 40. 30. 20. 10 meters.

The heat of the flames got closer to his hill of wreckage. It was getting so hard for him to breathe as the air was filled with ashes and smoke. The unmistakable smell of burning flesh assaulted the boy's nose.

Shirou couldn't do anything but turn on his side and fold in on himself.

The flames reached the hill. Their heat was greater than any Shirou's felt before. His mind told him they were going to consume him. End him. His heart couldn't muster a rebuttal.

"I- I'm sorry, Kiritsugu," Shirou barely croaked out. He just promised the man who saved him he'd become a hero of justice in his place. It was the last thing he could tell his adopted father before his sudden death. And now he wouldn't be able to keep it. He's going to die just a few days after.

The bottom of the hill was consumed by the flames that now made up this nightmare reality. Would it even take a minute before they consumed him?

Shirou couldn't bring himself to cry. Not when no one would hear him, nor did he deserve to be heard.

The boy coughed as more smoke entered his lungs. It tasted like ashed.

The flames were halfway up the small hill of wreckage. He could only close his eyes and wait for what was to come.

A second. A minute. An hour. A day. An eternity. It was impossible to tell how long Shirou sat there with his eyes closed. Waiting. The pain never subsiding.

Slowly, he opened his amber eyes, pain filling them like water in a vase. The flames. They stopped. Mere meters away from him.

The agony was so horrid. The inferno still tore into him, but it didn't advance anymore. Small motes of golden light seemed to meet the blaze, growing ever so slightly stronger as they danced through the flames. Holding it back.

Shirou began to shake in pain as he lost his sense of time again. His eyes never left the light that felt so warm yet seemed to cool him when it floated near him. Slowly the flames were punished back.

He could feel the pain fading ever so slightly, but it was but a drop in an infinite ocean. The light took so long to move the blaze back even a meter. It healed so much slower than the flames consumed, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was why.

Why did he survive again?

Shirou let out a whimper as he woke up. His lips felt so dry, and his clothing so damp. The cold dungeon floor almost felt good against the blistering heat of his skin. He smelt like a corpse and felt like he was about to be one. The pain hadn't lessened in the least from his dream. The screams of the other victims being quieter than the ones in his dream were no consolation.

Two guards dressed in medieval armor walked in front of his cell, peering in. Shirou tried to meet their eyes but faltered in the face of how cold they were.

"Looks like you win," one of them said as they pulled out a coin and gave it to the other guy. "Didn't think he'd survive a single night. Gutter trash never makes it past the first night."

The other guard laughed and took the coin before they continued walking away. "I didn't think I'd win either!"

Shirou would've grounded his teeth together at how jolly those two sounded if he didn't feel like the slightest breeze would kill him.

He sat there in agony alone. It was impossible to see anything with how dark his cell was. There was no one to talk to. Nothing to distract him from the pain or sorrow all around him.

The red-haired boy didn't know how long he waited in the darkness. Eventually, a different set of guards came to a stop on the other side of his prison's bars. They opened the cell and roughly picked him up without an explanation or an ounce of sympathy. Shirou had no energy to say anything, much less resist.

They dragged him through the dungeon. The light of the torch one of them carried let Shirou peer into cells as they passed them. Each one was filled with a variety of people with no rhyme or reason. Children far younger than Shirou were huddled in corners with fright-filled eyes. Other cells had elderly that Shirou couldn't tell if they were alive or not. The worst were the ones occupied by those who had already been experimented on. So many looked like they'd rather be dead.

It took them almost ten minutes to reach their destination. A separate laboratory from the one he'd been in the day before. It looked so clean and pristine; you'd never know the horrors that happened here if you just saw this room.

"Lay him on the table," a man in a plague doctor mask ordered to guards, getting a grunt in return. They placed Shirou on an examination table. The boy could only cough in pain as they tied down his arms. "Coughing, hmm. Unusual for attempted crest transplants."

The scientist or mage or crazy person ordered the guards out of the room as he began to look at his medical instruments. Shirou barely had the energy to lift his head up to see them.

The boy barely managed a glare as the doctor walked back toward him with a syringe in his hand. He didn't bother asking for Shirou's permission as he walked over and stabbed the boy with the syringe, taking a blood sample. The redhead didn't feel the pain of the needle being forced into one of his veins.

The masked man looked displeased as he pulled the blood-filled syringe away from Shirou's skin. "Did they not feed you or give you drink? Those fools… test subjects need to be kept in pristine condition unless otherwise specified! When will those beasts learn to listen to basic instructions?!"

Shirou didn't say anything in response, only barely managing to pick up half of what the guy was saying. His amber eyes watched as the scientist ejected his blood from the syringe and into a lab tube. The man wearing the mask of a plague doctor formed what looked like a magic circle around the tube.

He cast some spell that Shirou wouldn't be able to begin to understand when he was at his best, much less when he could barely think.

The magic circle disappeared after it ran its course, only to reappear again. The mage reran the same spell.

"Interesting," he muttered before turning to Shirou. The boy couldn't stop his body from flinching, nor could he stop the chill that ran down his spine. "Boy, what is your name?"

Shirou couldn't respond, even if he wanted to – which he didn't. His throat hurt way too much to say anything. All he could do was stare or maybe glare at the man.

"Useless," the mage growled before walking over to Shirou and casting some spell on Shirou with but a flick of his wrist. It made the boy's throat suddenly feel better. In fact, the pain throughout his body seemed to become duller. "I've done away with the pain. Now answer my questions."

Shirou considered not answering. He didn't want to tell these people anything, but what would they do if he didn't answer the questions? Just their experiments caused him more pain than he could imagine. What could they do when they wanted to inflict pain?

He… he didn't want to find out over some basic information.

"Shirou," he barely managed. For some reason, it was still so hard to talk despite the man healing him. Pain filled his mouth with each syllable.

"No noble house or bloodline?" the man pressed. He towered over Shirou like a giant. One hand held the tube with Shirou's blood while the other was impatiently tapping on the experimentation table.

He only nodded a yes this time. He was a normal person with nothing special about him.

"I see. Hmm, yes, this will need more tests," the mage sounded disturbingly pleased. "Try not to die, beast. Working on a corpse is so much harder. Especially for something as unique as this."

The mage turned away from him for only a second before looking back at him. "Oh yes, and to undo the pain-dampener spell. We wouldn't want it messing with the results."

Shirou's eyes widened a second before he was hit by an avalanche of pain. The agony returned in full force all across his body, except for his throat, which felt so much worse.

All the boy from another world could do was whimper.

Lord Volkhard sat at his new desk. In the eyes of the surface beast, it was probably a fine thing. In his, it was serviceable. Those on the surface couldn't ever build something worth his appreciation.

He signed one of the many papers on his desk. He had much work to do to cement his position of power in the Empire.

Volkhard was about to grab another paper but stopped when he felt the presence of someone warping into his office. The feeling was that of one of his fellow Agarthans.

"My lord," a dark mage appeared, instantly bowing to his superior. Volkhard didn't recognize the dark mage, so he must have been someone unimportant. The research going on below the palace is a large project with a similarly sized crew. Most of those researchers and scientists were unimportant in his eyes. "I have something to report."

"Out with it," Volkhard ordered. He didn't have time any time to waste with pleasantries. Unfortunately, his disguise forced him to engage in them with the beast.

"One of the test subjects showed a unique reaction to the crest transplant project," the dark mage explained with a formal tone. It was almost refreshing to see someone know their betters and treat them as such. "I recommend the subject for more intensive study and experimentation."

Volkhard frowned. Why was this being brought to him instead of Solon or Myson?

"Unique reaction," he promoted the dark mage to elaborate.

"Yes. It was a result of the attempt to copy the crest of Serios from one of the members of the imperial family to a crestless subject. All subjects except one have died," he began to explain. "The remaining subject shows the symptoms of a rejected crest, but his body is managing to purify itself of the Nabatean blood. I've observed the reaction for the last three days, and at the current rate, his body will be free of the transfused blood in five days."

"Could this be used against the beasts?" Volkhard leaned forward. He felt a genuine interest in this unexpected discovery. How he wished they could create a mindless weapon that could outright kill those lizards instead of having to take years to create another Nemesis. Biological weapons didn't affect them in the past, but maybe they could work if they could replicate and weaponize this anti-Nabatean reaction.

"Unclear, sir, when haven't had enough time to monitor and study the test subject," the dark mage answered. "But that is why I would like to request a team to study him and the right to test him against different crests."

Volkhard considered it for a moment before agreeing. "Solon will be in charge of selecting the team and conducting the experiments."

They would have their ultimate weapon in the form of their second Nemesis, but it was always wise to have backup plans, especially against the beast in control of the surface.

Shirou lay on the dungeon ground that had been his bed for the last six months.

Six months. Six months locked away underground without a single person to talk with. The warmth of the sun seemed so far away now. The smell of anything but the blood and corpses that filled this prison was but a dream. People screaming out had become normalized to him, even if the voices changed while he alone remained.

The redhead's body ached so much, but today was one of the better days. At least he didn't feel like he was being burned alive, and it had been over a week since the last time they injected blood in him.

Shirou tensed as he heard the sound of someone – no two or maybe three people – walking down the hallway outside his cell.

The young boy stared at the three people as they came into sight. Two of them were guards that Shirou had met before. The third was someone new. He was tall, towering over Shirou like a giant. He had black hair and a small beard. The man's expression made him look angry or annoyed. His clothing looked really nice, way better than the near rags Shirou had been wearing for the last six months.

The man stopped in front of Shirou's cell, the two guards stopping right behind him. He looked Shirou up and down as if he was studying him. It creeped the redhead out. He'd experienced that look too many times since being kidnapped to not.

"What are we going to do with you?" the man asked himself, earning a glare from Shirou.

He knew he was at the mercy of these monsters. But that didn't mean he liked it.

"We've put too many resources into you not to receive something in return," the evil-looking man glared down at him. His voice didn't match his appearance or what he was saying. It was like he was trying to sound kind. "Even if it isn't what we originally wished for."

What did they want from him? Why were they doing such horrible things? He didn't know anything about the strange place he was he, so he was at a complete loss.

"And I have the perfect idea," the man said before motioning to the guards. They opened his cage, and Shirou found himself moving back away from the now-open door. His action caused the man to let out a wicked laugh. "Is something the matter? You act like I'm going to hurt you."

Shirou wished this man never came down to his cell.

"I'm not going to hurt you unless you make me," the man told him as he took another step toward Shirou. "No, I'm going to make you into something useful. Do try not to fail; that would make me so very disappointed."

"Useful," Shirou barely whispered. He wanted to be useful to somebody. He needed to be. But not to a monster like this.

"You're quite a… tenacious cockroach, Shirou," the man used his name despite the young boy never giving it to him. Hearing someone call him by his name for the first time in so long left Shirou with a feeling of wrongness. Why did his name have to come out of the mouth of one of his tormenters? "We will be reshaping you so that no one can crush you like a bug."

He always survived when everyone else around him died. What could they do to make him harder to kill? He was already cursed, after all.

"So, get some rest. You'll be starting a new set of experiments tomorrow… its liable to last far longer than your last one and be far more painful," the man almost seemed to take pleasure in saying how horrible what they were going to do to him was. He smirked as he turned and walked out of Shirou's cell. "Oh, and my name is Lord Arundel. Do be sure to ask if you need anything."

Shirou felt a little bit of anger at how Lord Arundel was mocking him. Hurting him and then offering help he'd never give. That anger couldn't hold for long in Shirou's tired heart.

The boy made sure not to move a muscle as Lord Arundel walked away, the guards closing the door to the cell behind him. The black-haired man began to move further into the dungeon without glancing back at Shirou once.

Shirou let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He did the only thing he could do in the dark dungeon, lay down on the ground. It may have been cold and hard, but it reminded him he was in his cell. And that meant he wasn't being experimented on.

It was the closest thing he had to space where he could be safe.

Lord Volkhard von Arundel walked deeper into the dungeon to look at the other test subjects he needed to survey. Two unnecessary guards followed behind him in case there was any trouble.

The boy he just looked at was an interesting diversion. Sadly, it seemed they wouldn't be able to make a biological weapon from him, but there was still some use for him. His ability to seemingly heal from damage and recover from fatal injuries could be of great use to the Agarthan's cause if properly cultivated. If it could be copied or learned from, then all the better. As it is now, it still needs to be researched and improved. The fact that his hair was starting to turn white from the experiments proved it was currently fallible.

Still, he was but a sideshow to the more important project. The implantation of the Crest of Flames on a member of the Empire's royal family.

Arundel almost found his lips raised every so slightly in sadistic glee as he turned the last corner before the long hallway full of cells. Each one was filled with a prince or princess of the Adrestian Empire.

He couldn't wait for the day Serios fell to one of the descendants of her closest friend and ally. There was no end more fitting for the worst beast of them all.

The first of Wilhelm's descendants Arundel got a look at was the oldest male. He was in his early twenties, and his brown hair was starting to go white in places. He didn't have the crest of Serios, so Volkhard wasn't as interested in him as he was in some of the others. The insect won't make it through if his current condition is any indication.

The same could be said for many of them he passed. One of the older females had enough capacity to glare at him and hiss at him. The amount of killing intent in her eyes was admirable, but it wouldn't do anything.

When he reached the last set of cells, he made a mental note to have someone take the carcass of the youngest Hresvelg male. It's disappointing he died since he had the Crest of Serios, but not altogether unexpected given his age. His corpse and blood could still be of use if preserved fast enough, and it doesn't look like he's been dead that long.

He turned from the cell on his left and toward the one on his right. Lying in the corner of her cell was the niece of Lord Arundel. Edelgard von Hresvelg.

She had the Crest of Serios as well, so she was one of the more optimal test subjects. Her long unkempt hair was starting to turn white in places, and she looked horrid in her rags. The way she was lying and curled out had her facing away from her cell bars, which was far more common than those who slept facing their cell's exit.

Edelgard looked to be the healthiest out of all her siblings. The reports Volkhard had received did state that she had the highest chance of survival at the moment. Unfortunately, he would prefer one of the Hresvelg with actual training and not a soft princess who never picked up a weapon in her life, but he would make due if it came to that.

"My dear niece," Arundel called out to her with a smile. He watched as she slowly stirred, her movements slow and unsteady. Her eyes were full of fear; how wonderful. She knew her place. "It's good to see you in good health."

"Go away," she tried to order him with an unsteady voice. She was certainly a princess with that attitude, but she didn't project a royal dignity covered in filth.

"Now, is that any way to talk to your beloved uncle, El?" He taunted her before walking closer to her cell. He pointed to the cell across from hers; the corpse should be in her view. "And I was being honest. You are doing far better than your little brother."

"Torsten," she barely whispered. Edelgard began moving closer to the bars to get a closer look but stopped when she seemed to remember he was there. She looked up at him with teary eyes. "He is ok? Right?"

"No, it looks like he probably died within the last few hours," Arundel simply explained. He turned and looked toward the cell, ignoring the young princess's sobs. "Don't worry. We'll remove his body soon. It still has uses, after all."

Arundel stopped for a moment and considered the boy he looked over on the way here.

The boy was to be made into a weapon to support and reinforce their ultimate weapon. It would be best to endear him to the one he will serve. And from what Volkhard knew of human psychology, they had a tendency to cling to whatever they could when they were too weak. That's why they follow the church of Serios.

Putting the cockroach in the empty cell across from Edelgard wouldn't cost him anything, but it had many benefits. If Edelgard is the one who survives, then their weapon will have the complete support of a powerful second. And one could be used as leverage on the other if they get truly close.

If they get truly close, then that would make it easier to try breeding them if they decide to wait for a generation for a better weapon. The Crest of Flames on a regenerating puppet was a tempting backup plan. Especially since that crest relies on life force, and the cockroach's healing is caused by a flood of life force through his body. The two could work hand in hand to make the other exponentially stronger.

"And you'll be having a new neighbor in a day or two. I expect you to treat them properly. Remember your manners and dignity as a princess," he told the sobbing girl as he turned and walked away. He gave the other Hresvelg children one more look while walking passed them.

Yes, everything was going according to his plan. Soon, the surface would be his.

Edelgard cried into her hands. Her baby brother's corpse was barely visible in the darkness. If she hadn't been told, she would've thought he was just sleeping.

She didn't have the presence of mind to say anything to her so-called uncle as he walked away. The horror of what was before her was too much. He had been babbling nonsense before she went to sleep; now, he was gone. He would never get the chance to grow up. They'd never have any more happy memories together.

"El," her older sister Gloria called out from the cell next to her. Her voice was so hoarse and strained. "Was what your uncle said true? Is Torsten dead?"

Her lack of an answer was her answer. It was beyond her to vocalize the response.

How did things come to this? One moment she was enjoying life with Dee, and now she was tortured within her own home. Her sibling was dead in front of her. Her body was torn into and defiled to fulfill the desire of these creatures. It hurt. Hurt. Hurt.

"Damn it!" Eedelgard heard another one of her older sisters, Helena, scream while loudly pulling against her metal chains. The sound was unmistakable since they had all tried to struggle against their chains in the past. Helena's voice was unhinged and full of hate and desperation. "Damn it! This is your fault, El! You and your horrid uncle!"

Edelgard began to sob harder as her sister blamed her. The accusation engraved itself in her mind. It became truth. There might have been others involved in their torture, but her uncle clearly had a part in it. If she had seen the truth about him before coming back, she could've brought help. She could've saved her siblings. Torsten would still be alive.

"Helena!" Tobias barely manages to yell from his cell. "Our sister isn't responsible for this! It's those bastards that rose up against us! Now isn't the time to bicker among ourselves while they're living in luxury at our expense!"

Edelgard did her best to ignore the sounds of her siblings fighting each other. She couldn't handle it. Not while the corpse of their littlest brother was mere yards away from her.

The young princess cried and sent out a prayer to the goddess. Begging for her to save them. To save her from this hell.

The young princess heard the sound of people walking toward her family's cell. The sound of metal boots against the stone ground had been a death wail in the months since these experiments started.

She tensed and turned toward her cell bars. Would it be her being taken away or one of her siblings? She hoped it would be her and not them.

Time seemed to elongate as the guards' footsteps walked down the dungeon hallway. Each step increased the chance they were coming for her and not her siblings.

Edelgard froze when her eyes briefly turned to her brother's cell to see his body gone. When had they come and taken it? Was she really that out of it that she missed them stealing his remains?

Guilt filled her being. There was nothing she could do for him now.

She let out a breath as the guards stopped in front of her cell, but they weren't looking at her. In front of them was a boy around her age. Edelgard did her best to not make a sound. If they weren't going for her siblings, then she wasn't going to draw attention to herself. Even if it made her feel bad.

The boy was dressed in rags, arguably worse than her own. His hair was a mix of red and white, favoring the former for now. It was long and dirty. El's inner princess chafed at seeing so many knots in someone's hair. He was thin, his height probably slightly above hers.

Most striking was his amber eyes, filled with horrid emotions she knew all too well.

She recognized him from a few months prior. He was the one who had her younger brother's blood injected into him or something. A small part of her was angry that this stranger managed to survive when her brother did not, but her disgust at that thought instantly buried it.

The boy was led into the cell and locked inside. He looked so hesitant and fearful as he did so, but he wasn't letting it affect him.

"Welcome to your new home," one of the two guards told him. "Quite the upgrade, isn't it?"

"It's the same as my last cell," the boy answered, quickly moving further away from the bars as he did so.

"But now your neighbors are the highest nobility. How many gutter brats can say that" The other guard laughed before the two of them walked away.

The redhead looked relieved as they walked away, something she could relate to. He took a seat where he could lean his back against the cell walls, only a small distance from a blood stain born of one of her brother's injuries. And he looked completely unconcerned about it.

The boy turned the gaze of his amber eyes toward her. A look of suspicion, terror, concern, and understanding adorned his face one after the other. He looked drained of everything.

"Hello," he awkwardly managed after a moment. "I'm Shirou."

Edelgard's eyes narrowed. A part of her was suspicious of the boy. She couldn't help but be after her uncle did this to her. But he was the first person she had to talk to outside of her siblings in so long. And most of the conversations with them ended in screaming or crying.

He would at least know her name if he was a spy or something, so it shouldn't be too bad if she gave it.

"Edelgard von Hresvelg," she curtly answered, crossing her arms in front of her chest. The action caused her to flench back slightly in pain.

He just nodded and looked away from her. The fact that she was a member of the royal family didn't seem to faze him at all. Weird. She always gets a reaction when she mentions her family name. Did he already know her name? Or did he just not know their position?

Well, Edelgard didn't have the energy within herself to lecture him on those matters or the proper etiquette. All those things seemed so unimportant in this hell where none of that is important, and everyone suffers equally.

"We've been locked down here for months. Do you know what's going on outside?" Gloria asked Shirou. There was a little bit of hope in her voice. It didn't need to be said that she was hoping for help or anything to latch onto.

"No, I've been here for a really long time," he answered, sounding regretful that he couldn't give her a happier answer. He pulled his knees up to his chest. Slowly his sorrowful expression gained an inquisitive edge. "Have all of you been down here for months?"

"Yes," her older brother Achim answered from the cell next to Shirou. Edelgard couldn't see him, but he sounded horrible.

"Why are you curious?" Edelgard questioned the boy across from her on his sudden interest in their time spent in this dungeon.

"It's just that no one last that long," he responded sadly. His eyes made their way to the blood stain left by her brother. "No one but me."

"And how would you know that?"

"My cell was far away from the labs. I had to walk passed the other cells and see people disappear every time," Shirou explained. He looked sullen.

They lasted better than others. She could only hear the screams of the others, but she never imagined they could be suffering even worse experiments than them.

Edelgard looked up at the cell ceiling she knew better than the sun and shook. Everything seemed so hopeless.

Myson picked up a scalpel, feeling just right in his gloved hands. His hat lay on a nearby table, and a black surgeon's mask covered his face. A flash of magical energy was all he needed to check his lab for any abnormalities that could affect his latest test.

The man in black turned his head toward his test subject, tied down to an examination table just to his side. He had been working on this test subject longer than any other he had done before. Now, he would get to put his observations into practice.

The results were sure to be satisfying.

He looked over the subject one last time. He was pale, but that was most likely due to a lack of sun rather than any medical issues. The subject was adequately cleaned before being brought in, and it looked like his physique was optimal for now. It seems those savages were able to follow his instructions and give him the exact meals he instructed them.

Satisfied, Myson placed his free hand on the subject's bare arm. The rat made no attempts to resist, something the dark mage could appreciate. If only more of these savages would retreat into their minds and let him do his work instead of wasting his time struggling pointlessly.

The dark mage brought his scalpel down into the subject's arm. He was careful to make sure the cut was deep enough for his purpose but not too deep. It would be unfortunate if the subject died of blood loss due to carelessness.

The Agarthan mage turned from the rat and placed his scalpel back down, using a quick spell to disinfect it. Next, he turned to where he had several syringes of blood, or at least that was the best word to describe them.

Nabatean blood was fundamentally different from human blood, beyond those caused by being different species. The blood of humans is made up of plasma, white blood cells, platelets, and red blood cells. There were only trace amounts of Quintessence – life force – in each person. In most humans, it was completely undetectable with the technology currently available to the diminished Agarthans. Only the truly exceptional had enough to be detected, and even then, only when they were in their primes.

The blood of Nabateans was full of Quintessence. In the weakest of their kind, it was a thousand times stronger than even the greatest human. Entire cities – true cities from before the flood, not the surface dwellers' hamlets – could theoretically combine their Quintessence, and it still wouldn't equal a Nabateans.

It was theorized in the time of the Fell Star that her ability to create life came from her unexcusable life force and her being capable of manipulating it. A feat only talked about in the few remaining records of the great Epimenides. His control over Quintessence reached the point that he could manipulate his own to grant himself the ability to use Heroes' Relics, even without the correct crest. A brilliant ability that was sadly lost with his death. The implications behind it were critical to many of the Agarthans' current programs.

The currently accepted theory is that the immense Quintessence in Nabatean blood is what allows for the manifestation of crest when ingested. It is a manifestation of their life force in the bodies of others, as an almost sentient parasite.

'Almost sentient' was the key to Myson's current work.

The Crests of the Four False Saints – Cethleann, Cichol, Indech, and Macuil – were given willingly to their blind sheep, unlike the Crests of the Ten Elites, which were gained from the Nabateans' corpses.

There was a difference in the crest given willingly and those taken. The former tended to appear more often in their minor form but at the cost of major crests being far rarer. They were easier to use and control. The blind fools who used them almost seem to feel an almost soothing feeling while using them, strength flowing through them.

Crests of the Ten Elites, on the other hand, were rarer but more likely to appear as major crests. They were hard to control, more wild and unrefined. Using them boosted the user's aggression and anger. Reports make it seem like the strength of these crests surges through the body like rapids.

It was like the will of the original Nabatean lived on through the crest.

A fact that was proven by the reaction of Nabatean's power after being transported to a new body not meant to receive it. A reaction shared by all crest, both those who were originally freely given and those who were won.

The Nabatean's Quintessence attacks the new host both physically and spiritually. It tried to consume and overwhelm the recipients' own Quintessence and destroy the body, killing them both rather than surviving by attaching itself to the person. Only those who could absorb the Nabatean's life force survived and gained a crest, which was why it would be foolish to restrict themselves to those with strong Quintessence. A human is simply weaker and wouldn't win the battle with brute strength. Fortunately, their previous experiments on those Ordelia and their current ones have helped them learn how to increase the likelihood of the host absorbing the power.

The key point was that Quintessence reacts in response to its environment, displaying some level of reaction to its environment.

Over the months he's spent studying the boy and his reactions to the various crest, Myson has come to determine his body is responding to the Quintessence. It was not the blood itself, though, that might play a part.

When presented with the foreign Quintessence, his body is slowly filled with a different Quintessence that heals him and cleanses his body of the alien elements.

There were so many questions from that single realization that Myson had already filled two notebooks full of hypotheses and potential experiments weeks before today.

For now, Myson would have to focus on keeping this unusual Quintessence flowing through the test subject. Just as the crests responded when forced into a new host, this life force comes in relation to the Quintessence. How fast it reacts and how much it does varies depending on the crest it interacts with. Even the speed at which the rat healed varied from one sample to the next and sometimes within the same injection.

Myson kept close records of this data and created some unique blood samples with varying properties to them. He would use them to try and get the subject's body to react as quickly as possible and keep the Quintessence flowing. Fortunately, Myson was able to look over some of Epimenides's past work and found a theoretical experiment to try and keep a Nabatean's life force flowing even after it was separated from the body via the crest stone. The final goal was to be able to integrate the foreign Quintessence not as a crest but as a second source of energy for spells.

There was no documentation Myson could find on whether this experiment remained theoretical, and if it did not, nor the results. But it was still more than enough for someone as brilliant as him to build on. Especially since, unlike that of the Nabateans, this second Quintessence didn't react hostilely to the subject. In fact, the subject's life force was close to the energy released, but there is still a conversion happening.

At least, Myson theorized the second energy was the subject's life force after being exponentially increased. The subject had nowhere near enough Quintessence to be measured in his normal state, so he had to make an unfortunate educated guess.

Still, he couldn't wait to see the results of eliminating that conversion time. He already had plans to try and make the subject's Quintessence identical to the secondary one, among many others.

Given the fact that Myson hadn't discovered a limit to the amount of life force that could be produced, he could only theorize what would happen when the floodgates were opened, and the water never stopped rushing through.

It may make the rat truly immortal. Oh, what could be gained from studying something like that?

Myson picked up the smallest syringe. The quicker he finishes this part, the faster he will get the result. And he still has a long way to go. Today's set of samples numbered around twenty, and Myson was interested in testing how different placements affected the reaction. So, he still had several more incisions he needed to make into the subject.

It was time-consuming, but anything was worth it in the pursuit of knowledge and the defeat of those Nabateans.

Solon stared down at his test subject.

It was one of that beast's descendants. The one who sided with the damn Seiros and became the emperor of the nation that cut down their champion. If it wasn't for him, the world would've been theirs, and the fake saint wouldn't have been able to do anything to stop them. She would've been but another dead Nabatean.

Now, they were turning his descendants into the next Nemesis. A weapon to cut down the last person who stood in the way of the salvation of this beast-filled world.

Foolishness.

It was just as idiotic as Myson's fixation with that pet project of his.

He would follow orders, but Thales's plan to use these beasts to kill Seiros and her ilk was unnecessary. All they needed was themselves and him. He was the savior of this world. Him. It would be his magic and research that cleansed the world of its blight.

The Agarthan scowled and turned toward his instruments.

This girl was taking to the blood of Fell Star, the best among all those who've received it. Thus, she would be the first one to receive the improvement surgeries to increase her chances of survival. He had to personally oversee each one; Thales thought this was too important to leave to anyone else.

Solon was interested in seeing the effects of the Fell Star's blood in one of these beasts. It might give him insights that will help him create magic to use against the Nabateans.

The Fell Star was the origin of the Nabateans. She was far more powerful than any other being of her era. Only Nemisis tasted her blood, and Solon didn't get a chance to study him until after his death. This was uncharted territory for him.

Of course, this meant he would have to work slowly. He might not support this plan, but his pride would let it fail because of his mistake. That was why he was slowly building the crest in them through many small doses rather than two or three large transfusions.

Solon began the magical surgery by creating a magical circle around the test subject's examination table, causing the fool to struggle against her restraints. This process may hurt quite a bit, but it wouldn't kill her. There was no reason for such dramatics.

"Why are you doing this?" the beast asked with a voice full of fright.

"To save the world," Solon spat back. This insect was not only asking him a question without permission, but she was ignorant of even basic things. Solon hated ignorance more than anything else. "To free the world of them."

"What?" She repeated with a lower voice. The princess tried to lean away from him, but her restraints kept her from moving.

"The monsters in charge of the church," He growled at the mere thought of them. "The children of the goddess… the Nabateans."

"I – I don't know what you're talking about. But the church is good and will stop you! The goddess would stop you," She said, trying to sound brave but failing so completely. Did the insect really think that would scare him when even she didn't sound convinced by what she said?

Solon couldn't help but laugh. "We struck the goddess down long ago. There is no deity that can stop us."

"That – that isn't true," the insect sound desperate. Unbelieving. She looked at him like he was a madman and not the hero he was.

"Then why isn't she saving you – the descendent of her chosen emperor and favored saint?" Solon asked mockingly, satisfied by how the beast looked like she'd been slapped.

It was always excellent to begin an operation in a good mood.

Edelgard was dropped into her cell by the guards, who then chained her to the wall. Her body was burning like usual. Instead, it felt like someone had torn every muscle in her body, leaving her in constant agony.

The worst part was that she didn't know what they did to her today, only that it would happen many more times in the future. At least thinking about that kept her from thinking about what that man said. There was no way the goddess was dead. It couldn't be true. She would save them.

The young princess barely managed to sit up and lean herself against a wall. She looked through her cell bars to see Shirou lying in the darkness of his own prison. He had just been placed in her younger brother's cell, only to be taken a little later. She was taken shortly afterward, and it seems the others were taken after since their cells were empty. It could be moments or hours before they're all back.

She did her best to ignore the voice in the back of her head that said 'if' they came back.

The Hresvelg looked over the boy across from her once again. He had slowly sat up and looked back at her. She could see the bandages on multiple parts of his visible body, blood sept through some of them. Somehow, he was physically more tired, but his eyes looked rested.

"I see. You're alright," He spoke first. A small smile formed on his face. "I'm glad."

"Alright?! Are you blind!" She managed to find the energy to shout at him. Edelgard couldn't see what part of her – of any of this – was alright. She wanted to break down in tears again. How could he be smiling?

"No, but I've seen much worse," Shirou looked away as his smile fell from his face. His head dipped, looking at the ground. "Most people in the cell across from mind didn't last long enough for even a single conversation, much less two."

Edelgard felt her anger fade in the face of Shirou's earnestness and raw emotions. The deep sadness in every word resonated within her at a primal level. Despite the smile he put on, it looked like he was suffering just as much as she was.

The imperial princess brought her knees to her chest and laid her arms and head on them. Her miscolored hair blocked out everything around her.

"What did they do to you?" Edelgard found herself asking him. It wasn't like there was anything else to talk about, and she had gotten so used to thinking about this hell that it was the first thing that came to mind.

"They cut into me and injected me all over," Shirou looked up and pointed toward one of the bandaged parts of his body. "Don't worry about me. I've been through much worse."

Edelgard looked at where he pointed and found herself absentmindedly rubbing her wrist. Her entire body hurt so bad, but she could already see the bruises forming on her wrists from struggling against the restraints.

"You tried to struggle?" Shirou questioned, somehow guessing what happened from that single action. He looked into her eyes from across the room with a neutral expression. The darkness of the dungeon seemed to grow around him. "You shouldn't have."

"How can you say that? Should I just let them hurt me?" Edelgard responded as quietly as she could while still being loud enough to be heard. She didn't understand how someone, who was going through the same thing she was, could tell her to give up.

Edelgard felt an uptick of mistrust toward the mysterious boy.

"Struggling wouldn't free you; it'll just hurt you," Shirou sounded genuinely sad as his amber eyes looked toward her wrist. "It's stupid to waste strength on something that isn't gonna work. You should save it for when you have something that could work."

Edelgard got what he was saying logically, but she couldn't imagine just lying there as they tortured her. And she knew that the experiments wouldn't stop hurting if she just let them happen. The fact that Shirou looked just as bad as she was proof of that.

She ended up not saying anything in return, letting the conversation fade into nothingness. The short conversation had already exhausted the princess.

It seemed the same was true for Shirou, who laid down and went to sleep.

Shirou slowly opened his eyes. It was so tough too. They just felt so heavy, and it would be so much easier to just close them and go back to sleep. Pain radiated throughout him with each movement; the cuts were in a wide enough variety of places to do that. The burning feeling of the injections filled his body but to different degrees depending on the area.

The boy sat up and looked around the dark dungeon. Keeping time within it was impossible, so he had no clue how long he slept. And he has long since lost track of morning and night.

There was the typical background noise, but the area around him was quiet. A quick glance told him Edelgard was sleeping. He didn't know if the others around them were as well, but he didn't want to risk waking them. Not even sleeping was a safe haven for Shirou, as he, more often than not, has horrific nightmares, but it feels nice when sleep is just a blank void. Like the sleep he just had. He would feel bad if he woke them from a sleep like that.

Without anything to do, Shirou just leaned against a wall and looked up and the ceiling. Some part of himself missing his old cell, which he at least felt slightly safe in. Being forced from without his input, just as he was forced into it, only served to remind him of how little power he had. How he could do nothing to help those around him.

He glanced at the girl in the cell across from his. She was lying on the ground asleep.

Edelgard was the first person he had any sort of conversation with in a long time, and it felt so awkward. The two of them don't seem to be on the same wavelength. Maybe they would be able to understand each other better in time, assuming they live long enough. Given how often everyone else dies, he isn't sure that is likely, but there is something different about Edelgard and her siblings.

Those guards said something about high nobility, so all of them must be important people. Assuming this world is as old fashion as it looks. But, despite that, they still all ended up being experimented on in a dungeon. There's also the fact that all of them are chained in their cells, while no one he's seen is. Were their captors trying to be extra careful about Edelgard and however many siblings she has?

Shirou considered his very limited – non-existent – knowledge of his fellow captives and this world but couldn't figure out what was special about them.

Maybe, it was because they kept resisting so much that they ended up being chained up.

Shirou sighed, knowing he probably wouldn't get any answers for a long time. All he can do is the only thing he can do: wait.

Though, maybe it wouldn't hurt to try asking some questions later.

Shirou and Edelgard were left alone in their respective cells again. All of Edelgard's siblings had been taken away for more testing while they were left. For Shirou, he guessed it was because they changed what they were doing to him or something yesterday and were letting him simmer before taking results in the lab.

"Edelgard," Shirou decided to call out the girl's name, getting his attention. Her head turned toward him, letting him get a better look at her face. The boy still found it odd seeing the two-tone hair he knew he gained on someone else. Then again, he doesn't know what it looks like on him since he hasn't seen his reflection in forever. Maybe their hair would end up fully going white before he got to see what it looks like right now, he would see. "A little while ago – when I was first brought here – the guards mentioned you were high nobility or something. What's that mean?"

"They said the highest nobility," she corrected him with a slightly sour look on her face. "My siblings and I are the prince and princess of the Empire."

That sounded a lot more important than what Shirou expected. He was sure how important or powerful this Empire was, but it sounded major. Edelgard and her siblings didn't give off the royal vibe he would have expected from someone like that. Not helped by her being dressed in rags and looking sickly while being locked away from the sun.

"Then why's a princess locked down here?"

Edelgard looked away from him before responding. "You're a commoner, so you wouldn't understand."

Shirou frowned. Yeah, he wasn't a noble, so he was a commoner by default, but that didn't mean he wouldn't understand. "I can understand a lot of things."

"Then understand it's none of your business," she ordered. She sounded really angry, causing Shirou to scratch the back of his head. It looks like he needs to wait to learn about her past.

"Do you know where we are?" Shirou changed the subject. He had absolutely no clue where this underground dungeon was or what was around it.

"You don't know?"

"I didn't have time to ask them where they were taking me when they kidnapped me off the street," Shirou let a little bit of his annoyance leak out. Which felt nice. He hadn't gotten to be snide with someone in so long.

Edelgard flinched. "We're under the Imperial Palace."

He didn't know what that was, but at least it was something. A little bit more that he knew.

"What were you doing before…" Edelgard asked him a question this time. She sounded kind of suspicious.

"I was lost," Shirou told her without meeting her eyes. He didn't want to bring up the fact that he'd gone to bed one night to find himself in some sort of fantasy land. At best, she thought he was crazy. At worst, it somehow ends with their experimenters running even more tests on him.

"And you ended up here."

"Not by choice," Shirou truly wished he never ended up in this nightmare.

"Who would choose to be here," Edelgard responded. Her voice sounded so tired and hurt. The worse part was that Shirou couldn't do anything to help her. He lacked the power to save her or anyone.

Edelgard lay down facing her prison's bars. She felt exhausted. The burning run through her was making it harder to sleep than normal. In the distance, she could vaguely hear two of her brothers trying to comfort each other in the far-away cells. One of her sisters was screaming in agony.

It was the same as the day before and the day before that.

Her eyes glanced at the cell across from her. Shirou was lying down, his shoulders trembling. Was he crying? He hadn't cried once in the two weeks he'd been across from her.

The Imperial princess tried to get a better look at him – only to be shocked.

He wasn't crying. He was laughing to himself.

What in the name of the goddess was there to be laughing about?!

The worst part was how genuine it seemed. It was the first laugh she'd heard in so long, but it made a chill run down her spine.

"What's so funny?" She asked loud enough for him – and those around them – to hear her. Her voice was laced with anger. The cries of her siblings had to be audible to him. Laughing despite that…

"I was just… thinking about my older sister," Shirou explained after suddenly sobering up. The light in his eyes was smothered into nothing. "She meant the world to me, and I'll never see her again."

That – that wasn't the answer Edelgard had been expecting. Now, she felt like a jerk. He was a random person that was dragged into this without knowing anything. A victim of circumstance. "You'll be able to see her again once we're free."

The goddess would set them free. Save them from this hell.

"Even if we got out, she isn't waiting for me," Shirou responded before rolling onto his other side, leaving him facing away from her. He curled in on himself.

"I'm sure someone is waiting for you," Edelgard offered. She had already put her foot in her mouth with her last statement, but she still felt the need to try and cheer Shirou up.

The lack of response told her how well that worked out.

Myson frowned as he dug into his test subject's stomach area. His magical energy ran through the scalpel, preventing it from catching on to anything. The value of being able to cleanly cut through flesh couldn't be overstated.

He had overlooked an obvious issue with his plans. His subject's increasing ability to heal would eventually get in the way of his test. At his current rate of regeneration, it wouldn't even be an inconvenience. But he needs to be cognitive of it in the future.

Using dark magic to keep the wounds from healing would be ill-advised.

There were already a few solutions that came to mind and a few that could be ruled out. Using dark magic to prevent regeneration would contaminate the experiment. That was always the issue with magic-based experiments. Any creditable dark mage wouldn't mix another spell into their test without careful consideration. Myson only used magic to improve his scalpel because he mastered the art to the point that it didn't leak magical energy into the subject.

Of course, he had to rely on more mundane scientific means for this particular issue. He'll try using something to forcibly keep the subject's wounds open if it reaches that point. A tool that keeps both sides of the incension apart would do fine.

He would need to prepare for that soon. It was always best to not procrastinate.

Shirou looked up at the sound of the guards stopping in front of his cell. One was facing him; a tray with today's first meal was on it. He couldn't say if it would be considered breakfast, lunch, or dinner timewise. Which was why he started to count his meals based on when he woke up.

There was another guard with a tray of food for Edelgard in front of her cell. The two of them were always the last to get their food due to being at the end of the hallway.

"This is better than you deserve," the guard said as he opened the cell and placed it on the ground before leaving. Shirou didn't move toward it until after the guard closed the door.

The guard must be new if he was throwing simple insults at him. There were acts of cruelty from the older guards, but most of them had gotten bored of weaker insults, becoming either more creative or physical.

Shirou wasn't bothered by the insult. He already felt like he was worthless and a pathetic waste of space, unable to help anyone. All he could do was not die like an insect. Surviving because of the sacrifices of others.

His hands shook as he picked up the tray and placed it on his lap. He watched the guard leave in his peripheral vision. One time a guard kicked Shirou's food after placing it on the ground, and he's been paranoid since.

Going hungry was merely a drop in the suffering radiating from this place, but it was one Shirou had grown used to. Even their meals weren't satisfying, and they could barely meals.

The first meal today was the same as the one he'd been receiving over the last few weeks. There was a horrid-looking gray soup whose smell made Shirou want to gag. Next to it were three pieces of bread and a small cup of water. There was a dirty-looking wooden spoon to eat with on the other side of the soup.

Shirou sighed and picked up his spoon. He had no way to try and clean it except by rubbing it against either the dungeon infrastructure or his even dirty clothing. Both those options wouldn't actually clean it and would probably just make it worse, so he forwent them.

He took his first spoon full of soup and put it into his mouth. It tasted more like medicine than food, almost as if someone was trying to make soup out of all their pills. Shirou was certain he couldn't make a worse slosh than this, even if he tried.

The taste that almost caused him to gag when he first tried it only caused him to flinch this time.

He ate spoon full after spoon full until he felt something lumpy in his mouth. Something that went against the texture and feel of the soup.

Shirou did his best not to swallow, as he had no idea what that could be. Given his current circumstance, he wasn't going to take any chances. He carefully spits the soup in his mouth out onto an empty part of the tray, fortunately, that had been a smaller bit, so there wasn't that much.

The boy looked at the corner of his tray, at the slug. He blinked and brought his finger to one lumpy spot that stuck to his finger when he poked it. Looking at what it was, he frowned.

Somehow, a seed had gotten into his soup. He had no idea how that happened since he didn't know where the food was made, much less by who. But, at least, it was harmless.

Shirou absentmindedly flicked the seed off of his finger and toward one of the corners of his cell. It fell into a small crack in the cell's cement floor. The red-haired boy returned to eating.

"Is everything alright?" Edelgard asked from across him. She probably saw what he just did and thought he was a weirdo.

"The food is awful," Shirou commented with a frown. He loved cooking, so bad food was something that really got under his skin. "I could cook way better than them."

"You know how to cook?" Edelgard questioned, her eyes turned foggy as she seemed to think about the past for a moment. Shirou understood the luxury of good meals wasn't something he appreciated until he didn't have them. Anyone in conditions like theirs probably thought about the wonderous meals they had in the past while eating this borderline garbage.

"He's a commoner, El. The lower classes have to make their own meals," one of Edelgard's siblings, Achim, interjected from a cell over. His voice sounded slightly better than the last time Shirou heard it. Something about the way he spoke bothered Shirou slightly. It was something in his tone.

Despite everyone being in cells right next to each other, they really didn't speak to each other that much. Shirou was placed in his current cell weeks, if not months, ago, but his only conversations had been with Edelgard every once in a while. Many days, it just took too much effort for any of them to speak.

He wasn't sure what to do now that one of them was adding in. He might have been used to that once, but it's been so long since he's interacted with multiple people at once that he was kind of lost.

"And we can't," Edelgard said as her face looked down at her own meal. It was different than his. The smells of their soups were nothing alike.

"I could make you something when we're free," Shirou offered without any hesitation. He wasn't able to help her or her siblings, so he owed it to her to try and make her life better. Offering to cook for her was the least he could do.

Edelgard looked between her food and him. A solemn expression formed on her face. Her unique colored eyes settled in a gaze into his. "I'd like that."

Shirou felt a rare bit of warmth. Of happiness.

Edelgard may not have been smiling right then, but he was sure he'd be able to make her smile in the future. And that was enough for him.

Solon looked down at his current lab rab. He hadn't bothered to remember the rodent's name. All he needed to know was the number assigned to him.

The older male may have the Crest of Serios, but he was a pathetic candidate for the Crest of Flames.

His body was in the late stages of crest rejection. The life force of the Fell Star was overwhelming him in both body and soul. Scales were sprouting in different parts of his body. The muscles in its arms and legs were shredded by the rampaging power coursing through them. His heart rate and temperature were at levels that the human body couldn't sustain for more than a night at best.

The subject would be dead within the next few hours. Such a waste of resources for nothing in return.

Solon wasn't even going to bother sending the rat's body back to his cell. Hopefully, he could make some discoveries in the rodent's final moments. Get some use out of it before tossing it in the garbage with the other failures.

The Agarthan gave the rat's screams and cries the attention the wails of beasts deserve. None.

Edelgard looked up at the guard with a hint of fear that was held back by a stronger resolve.

He was standing outside her cell with today's meal. A neutral and uncaring expression on his face. To him, she was nothing. Not a princess. Not a person. Not worth noticing.

"One of my brothers didn't come back," the princess started as the guard opened the cell door. It was all she could say. She didn't even know which one it was. All she heard from one of her sisters down the hall was that 'he' hadn't come back.

"One of you royal brats bit it last night," the man coldly told her. He placed her meal on the floor and left, closing the cell bars behind him.

Another one of her brothers was gone. Dead.

Tears ran down the princess's face. Her empty eyes simply stared into the soup left in front of her.

Why? Why? Why?

Edelgard kept asking herself that, completely ignoring the reactions of those around her. The infinite feeling of hopelessness seemed to grow stronger in their hearts.

What had she and her siblings done to deserve this? Why wasn't the goddess saving them?!

A heretical thought entered her mind as she wept. The idea was that the goddess was dead, and they were on their own.

Yet, some part of her still resisted. She knew the goddess was alive. That she would save them.

But why, then, did her brothers die? What was the goddess's plan?

Myson smiled as he looked over the result of the day's experiments. His notes were in his left hand, while the subject was strapped down to the table on his right.

The testing was exceeding his expectations at this stage – thanks to his brilliant efforts, no doubt. He'd managed to complete the flow of Quintessence in the subject's body. Now, instead of only reacting in response to the presence of Nabatean blood, it would always be active. Constantly. More Quintessence moved through his veins every moment than any other human.

How he couldn't wait to study the effects of this. He already had tests planned to study the subject's regeneration and it's limits. Plans for how to improve it rolled through his brilliant mind. All of this was to be done in the interim while Myson prepared for the next stage of the experiments.

Aligning the subject's Quintessence with the second's source and possibly even uniting them. Tying them together and making them inseparable.

If he could do that, then his work would be on par with Epimenides's. It would be a huge stride in Agarthan knowledge as they took steps into learning the secrets of Quintessence.

Myson was filled with a glee of discovery he hadn't known for hundreds of years. All of which was directed at the boy with a body full of countless cuts and incisions. Blood covered every inch of him. The only obvious sign he was still alive – and conscious – was his blinking eyes.

The scent of blood filled his nose. The source was his own blood-covered body and clothing. It had dried since the scalpel passed through his body, leaving a sticky and crusty feeling all over him.

Shirou's stomach turned, just looking at the blood covering him. He didn't realize the human body could hold so much blood and how far it could spread. Even the floor the guards placed him on was now drenched in his blood. The corner was dyed in its color.

His amber eyes stared at the small crack in his cell, the only imperfection in his cell. He could see the stains where his blood fell into it.

The pain – both real and phantom – hadn't faded at all since he was thrown back in his cell. The worse thing was the creepy feelings that moved through his body. It felt like his body was stitching itself together. Almost like something under his skin moving within him. Other areas felt like they had something growing out of them. Filling the empty spaces in his body.

The feelings made Shirou want to tear at his own skin, but he barely managed to restrain himself. Still, his nails dug into his body, causing him to bleed, and they were just waiting for permission.

Shirou swallowed, making him once again cognizant of the taste of blood. Among everything that was happening to him, the one good thing was that no rats were trying to eat him like he had seen them try before.

The boy turned on his side and looked through his cell bars, hoping to find some distraction from his suffering that wasn't his own blood stains.

His eyes fell on Edelgard. They hadn't talked much since her older brother died, followed by the death of several of her other older siblings. No matter what he tried to say to her, she wouldn't stop being catatonic.

Yet, when his eyes met hers this time, she looked away. Flinching before looking back over him. He could see her eyes looking over him and the environment around him.

"I'm sorry," she told him before pausing. Shirou wanted to tell her she had nothing to apologize for and that he should be the one apologizing, but he didn't. There was a light in her eyes that hadn't been there before, flickering. And it stopped him in his tracks. "I'm royalty. A princess… but I'm useless. I failed to protect my own siblings and countless citizens. My strength is insufficient to stop this atrocity."

"This isn't your fault," Shirou automatically offered on nothing but pure instinct. Saying those words before they even ran through his mind.

"It is… All I did was pray to the goddess for a miracle, but I failed to do anything myself," Edelgard bit her lip and seemed to be deeply considering something.

"You shouldn't wait for divine aid or a miracle," Shirou told her while sitting up despite the pain it caused him. "Even if there is a diety that could fix everything… we should still stand on our own, not rely on them. I – I wouldn't want their help if it was offered. People should make the future…. But sometimes, there's nothing we can do."

Shirou told her his true opinions.

He hated himself for failing to save anyone. He hated himself for running when they called out for help. He hated himself for being alive.

But he didn't want any of that to be taken away from him. If it was, then he'd never make it up to them with his own hands. He'd never be able to look himself in the mirror and feel like he made amends with the dead.

It would leave him feeling hollower and emptier than ever before.

It was selfish, but he didn't want that. He needed to make things right with his own two hands.

Edelgard nodded after a moment. The expression on her face grew more resolute as if she was just waiting for someone to say what he did. She looked like something within her fundamentally shifted in changes. "I agree. If the goddess wouldn't help us… then we need to stand on our own. We need to make our own future… cut our own path."

The girl with mostly white hair's left hand squeezed as she said that last part. As if she was thinking about gripping something she no longer had.

Shirou didn't know where this came from, but he nodded in agreement. There wasn't anything in her words that he disagreed with.

A shiver ran down Shirou's eyes at the resolve in the girl across from him. For some reason, he felt his own resolve getting strong, almost as if it was being fueled by hers.

Solon glanced down at the only lab rat that was taken to the Crest of Flames well or as well as these beasts can manage. All the others would be dead within the month, while this one would awaken to the Fell Star's power within approximately two months.

Thales would have his weapon, and he would get to return to more important experiments.

The dark mage looked down at the girl with a frown. Her hair had turned the same white as the other crest experiments, both those with one crest and two. Only one rodent managed to survive the precursor experiments, and she possessed similar snow-white hair to the rat before him. It seems that is one fault they wouldn't be able to work out.

The rodent from before had several severe drawbacks to the rat before them.

Most prominently was the reduced lifespan of the rodent caused by two separated catalysts. The first was the damage done to her body during the time it took for her to absorb the Quintessence of the introduced Nabatean blood. Without the knowledge gained from tests before her, the rodent would have died from that alone. The previous experiments let them migrate and anticipate enough of the damage to keep the beast alive.

Her body and soul still suffered enough damage to cut decades of her life.

The second catalyst had been the rodent's Quintessence being spread too thin. Its life force was already barely enough to contain its original crest. The second Quintessence almost diluted the rodent's into nothing. Absorbing both of them and surviving was extremely unlikely – some would say it would be a miracle, but Solon didn't believe in such nonsense – but she did, at a cost.

Her total life force had been diminished to take the second crest in and would stay that way unless someone found a way to remove it from her body. That weakened life force would mean the rodent's death would come all the sooner.

A shortened lifespan wasn't something Thales would tolerate on his ultimate weapon. Not when the original war nearly a millennium ago lasted decades. In the foolish eyes of the Agarthan leader, that meant finding a way to make sure the weapon lived long enough to fulfill its purpose – instead of not wasting time on a disposable tool that could be destroyed with one lucky blow.

Solon rose to the challenge presented to him, as he always did. He managed to almost completely migrate the damage done to the rat's vital organs before they happened while also carefully measuring the amount of the Fell Star's power placed within her. Making sure it was never so much that it would impact her life span.

Furthermore, the Crest of Flames fed on Quintessence. Thus, Myson's project would provide for any deficits – as much as Solon would hate to have to rely on the work of others. He much preferred his work to stand on its own.

The other weaknesses of the original sample had been corrected as well, such as the inability to activate both crests at once or being physically weak. Fortunately, they had all the other rodents to prepare those on since Thales had infiltrated the Empire and acquired unrestricted access to its people from the beast that proclaimed itself a noble duke.

In the past, they always had to be careful to make sure the church didn't catch on to their existence, but now they could almost completely throw that to the wind. How fortunate for the Agarthans that their once greatest enemy was now a shield to do whatever they wanted. And if their plan fails, they can simply retreat, leaving the Empire to blame for the Agarthans' actions.

Solon looked at the princess – most likely one day emperor if all goes to plan and she doesn't do something foolish like stand against them – and frowned. He wasn't blind to the defiance in her eyes, but it would matter not.

"Tell me, as your goddess saved you yet?" Solon baited the rodent. To his disappointment, she didn't lash out in anger or shrink inwards in despair. Instead, she glared at him, but it was stronger than the other times he'd been glared at by her. Interesting. Did that extra anger have anything to do with his mention of the Fell Star?

"I haven't the need for the goddess," the rat told him without a single ounce of hesitation. And that was so very good for getting her to attack the church. It seems it will fall to him to guide her in the correct direction. Though, the fact he was effectively teaching a beast – even if it was only to set her against the Church of Seiros – filled him with disgust. "I'll make my own path forward."

"And how will you do that when the Nabateans control Fodlan through the Church?" He prompted her.

"Nabatean?" the rat repeated uncertainly. It seems she didn't remember the time he mentioned them in her presence. How unfortunate that she should possess such a pathetic memory.

"The children of the goddess. Immortals in control of Fodlan through the Church of Seiros," Solon explained bitterly. Even talking about those reptilian beasts fills him with such unending anger. "The current state of Fodlan was created by them. The current Archbishop Rhea is, in fact, none other than Seiros herself."

Some of said bitterness and hate were soothed by the idiotic expression on the rat's face. "That isn't possible…"

"And you are the arbiter of what is and isn't possible? Of course not. All you are is a beast wallowing in the pin made to contain you," Solon turned away from the strapped-down insect. "Your only value is the crests you bare. That is how Seiros created this world. Those with crest are placed above those without out. It's disgusting, celebrating who most has the power of the Nabateans."

Solon truly meant what he said. Among the surface-dwelling beasts, one of their worst traits is the way they worship the power of the Nabateans.

There's nothing sacred in crests. All they are is power meant to be wielded to full one's end.

Solon saw the way the rat was considering his words and knew that he'd successfully sowed the seeds for her to fight against the Church of Seiros. It would be up to Thales to nurture it into something that could burn away this world.

Edelgard stared up into the dark ceiling of her basement. The words of the conversation she had with Solon many sleeps ago rang through her mind. She hadn't shared them with anybody, but at this point, there was only one person she could share them with.

She looked over at Shirou, who had just killed a rat that had wandered into his cell. He emotionlessly tossed in just outside his cell. In the past, Edelgard would have been horrified at the display, but she understood why he did it. You only had to wake up once to them trying to nibble on you to hate them and support exterminating them.

Edelgard looked over the mysterious boy that was locked up across from her. His unruly long hair was now almost completely white, just like hers probably was. The red that seemed to match his amber eyes was gone, making them stand out all the more. His cell was covered in more blood than any of the others as a result of him being the one cut to pieces the most, sometimes literally.

He was staring at something inside his cell that she couldn't see.

He was the only person she could reliably talk to since Gloria and Achim died – since her siblings in the cells next to her own and Shirou's passed away. Now, there was a gap between Edelgard's cell and the rest of her remaining siblings.

She was barely in a good enough condition to talk with Shirou right across from each other. Her siblings were in no state to talk to the cells next to them or across from them, much less those further down the hall. Leaving only Shirou to talk to. Even now, he rarely initiates conversations with her, but he is always willing to talk with her, no matter his condition.

"Shirou," She called out to him, causing him to turn his eyes to him. His body was a bandaged mess, with blood leaking through the wrapping. "I want to discuss something with you…"

"Anything," Shirou acknowledged, coughing immediately afterward. Whatever he was thinking about or looking at was cast aside to give her his full attention.

Edelgard considered what he was going to tell him. She knew that he didn't care about the goddess from what he'd said to her, but that was only one concern. With how little she knew about him, it was impossible for her to predict how he'd react to what she said. But she needs to talk with someone, and who else but the one person that went through the same thing as her?

"Crests are to blame for our suffering," Edelgard told him. "They cut into our bodies for their own gain. To create weapons. But we're not the only ones suffering due to them, and as long as society places importance on them, we wouldn't be able to change anything. The paths of so many will be predetermined by their birth."

"You want to do something about that?" Shirou asked, his eyes looking away from hers and toward the blood-soaked ground of his cell. There was interest in his voice, but he also sounded hesitant.

"We change everything," Edelgard told him as she envisioned what that would entail. More things than she could possibly imagine, she knew that for sure. "Starting with the Church and then all of Fodlen. The Church of Seiros is responsible for the importance of Crest; without them, we can put something new in its place. Something that wouldn't cause suffering. Something that lets people choose."

She didn't bring up anything she didn't know for sure was true. Edelgard wasn't going to believe something as insane as the archbishop being Saint Seiros in disguise without any proof.

"I don't know a lot about politics… but if they're as important as you make them seen, then wouldn't tearing them down cause a lot of chaos and misfortune?" Shirou once again seemed so hesitant.

"Yes… but isn't it better to cause a little suffering if it will save many more from pain in the future?" Edelgard countered.

Shirou carefully considered what she said for a few minutes before sighing and seeming to come to a decision. His eyes turned back to Edelgard's, full of resigned conviction. "All I want to do is be a hero that saves people. I'll help you if it really lets me help others… besides… no, never mind."

Edelgard felt surprisingly relieved at Shirou's declaration to help. Having her thoughts confirmed by someone else affirmed her conviction and belief in her new ideals.

"Hey, Edelgard," Shirou said after a moment. His eyes turned from her toward something in his cell. His voice was soft. "Can you see what I'm looking at?"

"No," she answered truthfully. What could he be looking at that he felt the need to ask her if she could see it?

"There's a crack in the floor of my cell," Shirou explained. "A long time ago, there was a seed in my food that I flicked into there. I didn't think about it again for a long time. I tried using the corner with the crack as the place to stay when I bleeding a lot. My cell is already covered in enough blood, after all. And now – now the seeds somehow starting to sprout. It looks like it's going to be a red rose."

Edelgard blinked, not having expected that. How could a flower grow in the darkness of this dungeon? Shirou's body does heal from wounds far faster than it should have, and it has been covered in his blood. Could that be how?

"Do you think the rose will be as beautiful as any other… or do you think it is tainted by the blood it was fed to survive?" Shirou questioned as his gaze switched from the rose toward her eyes.

The Princess could tell from the look in his eyes that this was a question very important to Shirou, and she couldn't get this wrong.

"It will be far more beautiful than the others because it had to struggle to survive. It had to because its best self," Edelgard assured Shirou.

His body shook for a moment before stopping. He nodded at her and then looked back at the flower. "Yeah, you're right."

Myson prepared his tools for his final experiment on his subject. He had four other dark mages he had hand selected to aid him in this process. The lab was full of far more tools and objects than it normally was. Both to monitor the process and to aid in it.

The subject was strapped down on the examination table right in front of him. His amber eyes looked around at the things its feeble mind had no hope of understanding.

He pulled on his gloves and signaled to the others that it was time to begin.

Shirou shivered. Flames surround him on all sides. The heat filled the air around him. The skyscrapers that littered the world were half-melted. The sky couldn't be seen, but it wasn't blocked by the smoke like last time. An impossible wall that looked like his cell roof blocked off the sky as far as he could see, holding the smoke close to his hill.

How did he get here? He was being experimented on, and now he was here. Did he fall unconscious? They've never let him lose consciousness in the middle of an experiment before.

Shirou looked around and noticed the motes of light from the last time. They were far more numerous and were actively pulling themselves toward him. He flinched when his hand touched one of them.

Pained filled him, causing him to drop to the ground at the top of the hill of wreckage. He saw the motes of light come toward him. His eyes closed, and he shook.

He could feel the light being pulled into him and himself being pulled into them. It hurt, but not more than what he had experienced before.

The pain slowly subsided after what filled like years. The light felt like it was becoming a part of him. Comforting him. Or was he becoming a part of it? He couldn't tell.

Each movement – each breath – slowly made him feel better as something beyond him yet has been a part of him become one with him.

Shirou slowly opened his eyes. He looked around, instantly recognizing his second cell. He sat up faster than he had in a long time.

He blinked at the feelings in his body. Or lack thereof. He didn't feel any pain in his body. How long has it been since he hasn't felt pain in his body? He couldn't remember.

Shirou looked at his body and saw the bandages around his body. He reached out and felt his arms, only to find there were no wounds on his arm, either of them.

He looked over to see Edelgard sitting in her cell. She turned and looked over at him. He could see her eyes widen in surprise. "You're awake!"

"Yes, how long was I out?" Shirou asked. Honestly, he felt like he had the best nap of his life, but he had no long it had been since he'd been taken away for her last test.

"I don't know," Edelgard answered. She looked sullen. "They took you way for a long time. And you were asleep when they brought you back."

Shirou nodded, feeling bad that he had left Edelgard alone that long. He knew he would feel horrible if she disappeared for a long time, and he couldn't even figure out what was happening to her.

"Is something wrong?" Shirou wondered. Something could have happened while he was gone, and he wouldn't have been here to support her.

"This corridor houses only us now," Edelgard informed him after taking a moment to gather herself. Her hands were balled into fists.

Shirou flinched, instantly understanding what she meant. How could he be gone taking a nap while Edelgard lost the last of her siblings?

"I'm sorry –"

"Thank you, but it's fine," Edelgard interrupted him. A sad look in her eyes. "I've already done my mourning."

"You shouldn't have had to do that alone," Shirou lowered his head in shame. Another failure on his part. One that he'd never be able to make up for.

Edelgard yelled in pain as it felt like her arm was on fire. No, her entire being was on fire. It was worse than any of the times in the past. Those were a winter morning in Faerghus compared to this.

Tears filled her eyes a pattern formed on her arm – the power of a new crest more powerful than anything she had ever felt before flowed through her. It wasn't enough to break whatever the restraints holding her to the examination table, but she could feel them struggling against her attempts.

"Materialization of the Crest of Flames is complete," Solon said from above her. His eyes meet hers. "The power of the Fell Star is now ours."

It was eerily quiet in the dungeon; both Shirou and Edelgard noticed it. The screams they got used to were gone, leaving only silence. It was just the two of them now.

Each of them had finished their experiments, becoming what the mad mages wanted them to become.

Edelgard now had the Crest of Flames, a power great enough to rival Seiros, born of the goddess.

Shirou was now unkillable and could heal from any would, no matter how grievous.

The princess looked at her companion, the only other survivor of this atrocity. He had promised to stand by her side and help her change the world. He would be one of the few people she would trust.

"Shirou, you can call me El," She told him, breaking the silence between the two of them.

That was the name she only let those closest to her use. With the death of all her siblings, the only ones who called her by that name were Dee and her parents. But none of them knew what she had become, how she'd changed.

She would let Shirou call her El, as the one person who was close to who she was now. Who she would trust to stand by her side.

Shirou looked taken aback by her words. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, once I make a decision, I stick to it and wouldn't be convinced otherwise," she explained to him, unwaveringly looking into his eyes.

The boy with white hair gave her a small smile. "Understood… El."

It was then they heard the sounds of people walking toward them, marking the end of their imprisonment.

Shirou leaned back. The sound of someone walking down the hallway instinctively caused him to lean back. It was impossible to see who was coming down the hall from his spot.

The steps grew louder until their source appeared in front of his cell. It was someone Shirou had seen before. It was the scary man who entered his old cell. A shiver ran down Shirou's spine when the man's cold eyes looked at him before turning toward Edel- El.

He didn't know why she wanted him to call her that; it was the nickname her siblings used for her. And he wasn't nearly as close to her as they were. But he would use it since she asked him to.

"It seems you're finally complete," the man told El. His voice was almost mirthful, with a hint of excitement or maybe satisfaction. There was no way for Shirou to tell what the man was thinking or feeling. Even when he turned back and looked directly into his eyes. "As are you."

A chill ran down Shirou's eyes at the look sent his way. It felt like the man didn't even think he was a person. And saying they're now complete? Did he think that they were incomplete before these horrible experiments and that what had been done to them had made them better?

That idea left Shirou feeling disgusted, both at what was done to him and himself.

The man seemed to consider something before pulling a key out of the pocket of his expensive-looking clothing. "Why don't I let my dear niece out first."

Niece.

Shirou immediately looked over at El, who was now glaring at the man.

This man, one of the few who he could identify as being a part of the experiments, was El's uncle? That… left Shirou feeling unsure and filled him with a mash of emotions. He knew El was being experimented on too, and her uncle was a monster who didn't love her. Yet, some part of him was nervous. Or something at this reveal!

That feeling didn't disappear but was overcome but the revulsion at this man's actions. And he couldn't imagine how El felt about him. The anger that filled her expression did wonders to help his imagination.

The man opened El's cell. Shirou could only watch as his friend tried to look brave, even as her uncle towered over her. Under her anger and bravery were fear and hopelessness. For all the words she said before one of their tormenters came, they were both still so weak. Trapped by the whims of their evil captors.

The dark-haired adult leaned down and uncuffed El's arms and legs. The princess brought her now free hands up to her chest, one of them rubbing the other's wrist. She looked like she was stuck between trying to punch her uncle and moving away from him.

A single glance was all she was met with as the man then turned and walked out of her cell, leaving El to follow him.

Shirou almost flinched as the man stopped in front of his cell, completely unconcerned with the unchained El. He switched keys and opened Shirou's cell.

The boy swallowed as he looked at the open doorway. Hope that the end of the experiments was here and he would be freed was mixed with distrust and fright. The idea this was some kind of trap or test lodged itself in his head.

"What are the both of you waiting for?" the man sarcastically asked while walking away from Shirou's cell. "We still need to have you bathe and change into something more… suitable for the outside world."

Shirou hesitated; his amber eyes drifted to the crimson flower growing in the corner of his cell. It was in full bloom in the darkness, surrounded by blood stains.

The former redhead sighed and clenched his fist. He needed to leave this cell if he was going to make up for his sin of surviving. If he's going to keep his promise to be a hero, that can save everyone.

Shirou stood up, not glancing back at the rose once as he left his cell. Less than a second behind him was El, who had the same resolved look on her face as he probably had.

El stopped a step or two away from him. Her hair was a brilliant white, and her eyes a unique shade of purple that shined brightly against her pale skin. The clothing she wore was as ragged as his own, and she smelt just as terrible as he probably did, though he had grown used to horrible smells long ago.

It was the closest Shirou had been not only to her but to anyone that wasn't hostile to him in what felt like an eternity. How he wanted to reach out and comfort her like he wished he could have in the past – not just her but everyone who was suffering in these experiments. Yet, something in her eyes kept him from reaching out. Something inside of him was holding him back from even trying to touch her.

"Good, let's go," the man said before either he or El could speak. He began walking down the hall without even making sure the two were following him.

Shirou shared a look with El before both of them turned and started to follow the man from a distance.

"We're finally going to be liberated from this prison," El whispered to him as quietly as she could. Both of them looked to see if the man had heard them, but he didn't seem to react.

"Yeah, but we don't know what they're going to do next," Shirou reminded her in just as low a voice as hers. His amber eyes glanced back at the man in front of them. "And that man… he's your uncle? What's his deal?"

"I –," El stuttered before shaking her head. She bit her lower lip. "Arundel is his name… And he was my uncle, but he changed. Everything about him is wrong. Like he's someone else. Someone who led me into this hell."

Shirou considered what she said. "Do you think he was replaced or something… with magic?"

The young magi hesitated at the use of the word magic. He had always been taught to keep magic secret and hidden from sight. It was something he even kept hidden from his older sister. Yet, this wasn't his world. Magic seemed common, or at the very least, El knew about it. So, there shouldn't be any issue with him bringing it up.

"Possibly," El answered with a sullen expression. Her eyes grew cloudly for a moment, lost in thought of memories long past. She only allowed herself a single moment to linger on the past before shoving it to the back of her mind. "We can talk about it more when we're alone."

Shirou nodded. His attention switched from El to their surroundings as they walked through them.

It was impossible for him to identify any single area or space. Everything looked the same. What stood out the most was the silence and the empty cells they passed. Where there were once countless people being experimented on, writhing in agony, now there was nothing but clean cells. Not a single sign of the horrors was left except for the stench of rotting flesh and filth that filled the air.

The boy almost began to imagine the people of the past in their cells, screaming in agony and pain before being silenced in death. The only trace of them left being El and himself.

No matter how hard these people tried to hide what they did, Shirou would never forget. He would remember them for as long as he lived.

After what felt like an eternity, they ended up leaving the endless halls of cells. The stench of death was no less potent in spite of that.

They came to a stop outside of a solid door, not a door of bars like his cell's. There was a single pathway that had a small but steady incline leading up. Was it the last stretch before they left this dungeon?

"You will be meeting with Duke Aegir and several other important nobles once we leave," Arundel told them. He gestured to the door. "Everything you need to freshen up is inside. Do try to hurry, the meeting is scheduled for an hour from now, and there will be consequences if you're late. I would hate to have to discipline either of you, but I will for your sake."

"We'll be ready by then," El told him and walked to the door. It took a second, but Shirou followed behind her, entering the room after her. He made sure the door closed behind him completely.

The room was larger than any Shirou had been in since his imprisonment. The floors and walls were made of stone, and there were three doors leading into what were probably smaller rooms. In the center of the space was a table with several items atop it.

"I never imagined this would happen," El said as the both of them stopped in front of the table. On it were two sets of objects consisting of things like shampoo, soap, and even clothing. Each one was different from their counterpart in the other group.

One set had girl clothing in front of it, so it was probably El's. It was primarily black with red accents. The visible parts of the dress were a long sleeve overcoat and matching pants. They looked like they were better made than even the clothing Shirou had back home – not that he had particularly good clothing.

The other set was a very dark red and black outfit with a similar style to El's. It didn't look like it was nearly as well made as his counterpart's, but it was still so much better than what he grew used to wearing. Knowing it was his was almost unbelievable.

"What's happening?" Shirou asked, not understanding what was bothering El.

El let out a breath and turned to look at him. She looked so very sad. "Political prisoners were held in the dungeon, and this was where they cleaned themselves before being ransomed or traded. Now, we're using it to prepare ourselves to be presented to the nobles behind this atrocity."

Shirou frowned, understanding what El was getting to her. "Dragging our feet won't get us anywhere, so let's get this over with."

"Yes, you're right," El turned toward the table and reached out, grabbing her things. A cold expression on her face. "Do you need me to show you how to use the baths?"

Shirou nodded no. He didn't know how baths worked in this world, but he didn't need someone to show him how. It couldn't be that difficult or different from how it was in his original world.

"Just making sure," El said before turning toward the door on her left. "I'll use that one."

The boy silently acknowledged what she said and took the shower room on his right. All the things on the table barely fit in his arms.

After struggling to open the door, Shirou entered the small room. He was relieved to see a bath that looked exactly like the type of bath he knew of. There was a small table and a sink with a… mirror.

Shirou dropped his things on the table and gave the mirror his complete attention. Transfixing his gaze on the reflection of himself in the mirror. The first he's seen since he's been kidnapped.

In front of him was someone Shirou didn't recognize. Long white hair ran down past his shoulders, and a jumbled mess of knots filled the white mane. His amber eyes looked so much duller and washed out than he remembered them. He looked like he was almost bordering on being dangerously thin. A paleness had taken root in his skin from lack of sunlight.

He looked like he was a year or two older, but it was hard to tell.

This was what he looked like now. It was who he was. Nothing could ever take back what would happen, and Shirou wouldn't want anyone to… but he still found his reflection to be haunting.

Did El feel the same way?

Edelgard lay in the tub that was way bigger than needed for someone of her size. The hot water caused her skin to itch. It had been so long since she had a hot bath that her body wasn't used to it or the soaps.

She should have left the bathtub a minute or two ago, but she couldn't help but take a few moments to gather herself. This was the first time she had true privacy since she had been brought to the dungeon.

Still, it couldn't last. So, she got out of the bath and got dried off. She quickly put on her clothing while doing her best to ignore the mirror for now.

The clothing was befitting a princess or the heir to the Empire. She had no clue what the current fashion in her homeland was, but her new dress was more traditional. It was standard clothing for someone of her position. The red accents on it were deliberate in their placement to draw one's attention to certain parts of the body with symbolic value, like the heart. On her right sleeve was an emblazonment of the Crest of Seiros – something only members of the royal family with said crest were allowed to have.

Just like the bathwater, the nice clothing felt odd. What was once normal for her was now alien.

Alien.

Edelgard clenched her fist. She walked in front of the mirror, taking in the reflection she had avoided when she first entered the bath. She knew that she changed, both physically and as a person, since the experiments. But she was hesitant to look at who she'd become. To confirm the truth of her new self.

Her once beautiful chestnut hair was now an unnatural white. She had grown taller, older, and more mature. The look in the eyes that stared back at her was…

A tiny part of the princess wanted to break the mirror. To rage against who she had become. To deny reality.

But she wouldn't. The girl reflected in the mirror was who she was. This was her reality for now. Denying it would only hinder her from making her own future. Her past self was gone, and she would march forward to whatever was to come.

Edelgard turned and left the bathroom, leaving the rags she had worn on the ground.

Waiting in the larger room was Shirou, dressed in the clothing worn by the closest retainers of the imperial family during formal events. It looked like it fit him perfectly, just like hers did. The fact that they perfectly knew their measurements was something she didn't need to question. They had plenty of time to get them over the course of the experiments.

The only other survivor was messing around with his still-wet hair, trying to untangle it. His back was turned to her as he was sitting on the table facing the direction of the door out into the dungeon.

"Do you require assistance," Edelgard offered to him.

Shirou jumped slightly before turning to look at her, annoyance dripping from his expression. "You wouldn't happen to have any scissors?"

"No, but I know how to untangle hair," Edelgard told him. She walked right to his side but stopped when he flinched backward slightly. It was a reaction she understood and sympathized with. After all that they went through, reacting harshly to unsolicited physical contact wasn't surprising.

"What? Are you going to use magic?" Shirou sarcastically asked. He was looking at his hair like it was the enemy.

"Yes, if you will allow me," Edelgard responded, causing him to stare at her in surprise.

"You know magic?" Shirou questioned, way more confused by that idea than he should be. The aforementioned confusion quickly shifted to incredulousness. "And you use it to untangle your hair?"

"I'm a – the – princess of the Adrestian Empire, the most magically advanced nation in Fodlan. Of course, I know some utility magic," Edelgard informed him. She never really put much effort into learning magic in the past, not to a lack of opportunities but sheer laziness. Still, she picked up a small spell are two that made her life more convenient. "I'll repeat my offer. I can untangle your hair if you let me."

Shirou considered her offer for a moment and then nodded. Edelgard moved to a comfortable position behind him and began her work.

"How does it work?" Shirou asked right after she started.

"Extremely weak wind magic to carefully manipulate the hair until the knots were gone," She explained. Calling it extremely weak wind magic was a disservice to wind magic. The wind was so weak that it could barely ruffle a small part of a person's hair. There was a reason anyone who knew even the barest bit of magic could do this. "I became adept in doing this while in Faerghus."

Shirou hummed in acknowledgment.

"We need to talk about our upcoming… meeting," Edelgard said without slowing down her quest to remove all the knots in Shirou's hair. "I presume you don't know how to interact with nobles."

"I know how to behave," the white-haired boy responded. "And I understand what's at stake. These nobles are rich and powerful and can do whatever they want. Acting out now would be stupid."

"There's truth in what you say, but it's more than behaving," Edelgard told him. "The clothing you're wearing is that of a retainer to the imperial family. Your actions, posture, and presence will reflect on me. And these nobles are going to be looking for anything to attack us with."

"Don't worry, I'll protect you," Shirou instantly added the moment she finished speaking. There was unmistakable determination in his voice.

"I mean, they will attack us with words, not literally assault us," Edelgard explained in case he misunderstood. After experiencing the horrible experiments these nobles were willing to approve, it wouldn't surprise her if they were willing to physically hurt them. But nobles typically relied on political strength and maneuvering when insulted than getting physical.

"I know," Shirou's voice became a little lighter. A little more jovial.

"I can handle them on my own, Shirou. I just need you to stand up straight, stay silent, and follow my lead."

"I can do that, but I will have your back if I think you need it," Shirou didn't wait a moment to say he wasn't going to sit silently and leave things to her.

"Even if I say I don't need your help?"

"Especially then," Shirou seemed to be nodding to himself and had a small smile on his face. "Because if I don't help you, no one will."

Edelgard fought to keep herself from rolling her eyes. A feeling of exasperation filled her, but she did feel herself loosen up ever so slightly. The fact that she found herself exasperated was proof of that.

At this moment, they were away from all their worries.

Silence emerged after Shirou's declaration. Neither one of them seemed to be in a hurry to break it. Instead, they just enjoyed the moment of isolation. The only sounds were the ones made by Edelgard as she unknotted Shirou's hair.

Ten minutes.

That was how long they had before their peace was broken by the door opening. Her so-called uncle entered the room with a frown. "You're both done. Good, everyone is waiting for you."

Edelgard pulled her hands away from Shirou, having just finished his hair.

Her white-haired companion briefly looked back toward her before getting off the table and walking toward him. Edelgard quickly moved into step right beside him.

Arundel smiled and led them out of the room and down the hallway, which was the sole exit out of the dungeon.

Edelgard felt nothing, even as she was being led from this hell. She would've thought she would feel something, but she didn't. And she couldn't even begin to guess why.

The smell in the air changed as they got closer to the exited. The scent of death was nearly gone by the time they reached a door with two guards posted in front of it.

Shirou's expression was cold and neutral, but his fist was clenched.

Arundel didn't acknowledge the guards, instead silently walking past them and opening the door to the outside himself. Shirou walked faster than before, his eyes set on whatever lay outside the door. Edelgard moved faster to stay by his side, but none of his apparent excitement or need rubbed off on her.

Outside of the door was nothing but a stone hallway. There wasn't even a single window. Instead, the space was illuminated with magic lanterns. Their glow slightly hurt Edelgard's eyes, but they weren't that bright. The lights in the labs were worse.

Her friend frowned as he looked around. He didn't stop following Arundel and stayed by her side, but he looked at the walls as if he was hoping they would open up if he glared at them hard enough. Sadly, the walls of the imperial palace were over 1000 years old and wouldn't be broken with wishes.

Edelgard still didn't feel anything as she took in the sight of the palace after being beneath it for who knows how long.

Simply leaving the dungeon hadn't changed anything. Being out of it didn't make her safe. She needed to work for either of those things to grace her. And it certainly wouldn't be given to her by Arundel.

One.

Two.

Three.

Three hallways they walked down before they reached one that contained a window. Edelgard saw it first, but Shirou was only a few moments behind her. Fortunately, he managed to restrain himself from running and kept their distance from Arundel.

The moment they passed it; however, Shirou stopped and looked out the window.

Edelgard paused as well, taking a quick glance outside. The sight wasn't anything special by any means. It was probably meant to be an open area for airflow rather than for looking. All that could be seen if you looked through it was a small open area meant to be a break area for guards.

The only thing that captured the princess's attention for even a moment was the sky. The image of it seemed so distant. Dawn. Morning. Afternoon. Evening. Dusk. Night. Those words had become meaningless to her.

And even now, she was denied seeing one of them. One of those states. Thick clouds blocked out any trace of the sky. Like the ceiling of her cell.

"I wanted to see the sun…" Shirou muttered before looking away from the window. He looked slightly sadder than he did before. Resuming walking at a slower pace than before.

"There is always tomorrow," Edelgard tried to comfort him. Her words got a snicker from her uncle, who was apparently listening to what they were saying.

"Sometimes, tomorrow never comes," he told them with a dark edge in his voice.

Edelgard bit her lip. She didn't want to hear such nihilistic and hopeless statements from one of her tormentors.

"Tomorrow always comes," Edelgard said, crossing her arms over her chest. "The sun always rises, and nothing can stop it."

"The rising of the sun does nothing to those who don't receive its grace," the bitterness in his voice was endless, like a sea of thorns. Her uncle never was that bitter – she couldn't remember anyone sounding so bitter.

"Then they just need someone to bring them into the light," Shirou intoned. A determined look in his eyes. "Or bring them some light… there's enough for everybody..."

All they got from Arundel was another laugh that sent a shiver down Edelgard's spine. Shirou's as well, if the way he flinched was any indication.

They walked without saying another word. Eventually, they reached parts of the palace she could recognize. There was very little difference from what little she could remember.

The sole object to grab her attention was a painting of her ancestor Wilhelm Paul Hresvelg being crowned emperor by Saint Seiros. It is said that the name of the Adrestian Empire wasn't chosen by mortals but through an oracle from the goddess herself.

Looking at the painting made Edelgard's gut burn where once it filled her with reverence.

Still, she didn't linger on that burning feeling. It would have its time when she had more freedom.

Eventually, they turned down a hallway that Edelgard could vaguely recall to lead to Duke Ludwig von Aegir's office. The hallway leading to the prime minister's office had paintings hung on each side of the wall of past generations of the Aegir family. They had filled the post one after the other for hundreds of years. There was expensive pottery and other decorations placed on the sides of the hallway, placed between each portrait as if to divide them.

Out of the entirety of the imperial palace, this hallway and Duke Aegir's office were among the most decorated areas within. It was revolting to see such lavish displays of wealth within her home from the person who butchered the next generation of Hresvelg.

The three of them came to a stop outside of the intricate gold-encrusted doors of the prime minister's office. The symbol of the Aegir family appears in the center of both doors, with half of it being on either one.

Arundel looked them over once before turning toward the doors. He easily pushed them open, leading Shirou and her into the room.

The first thing Edelgard noticed was the room itself. It was luxurious, and the interior space was massive. There was enough space to have an entire corner of the office be used as some sort of lounge area with a couch and table that had food placed atop it.

An expensive rug was laid out from the entrance to Duke Aegir's desk, which was located on the other side of the room. The desk was an intricate wooden desk big enough for a fully grown adult to lie down atop it. There were massive glass windows behind him with red curtains drawn to the side. The smell of scented candles filled the air to the point that it almost made the princess want to gag.

There were six other people within the room, not counting Shirou or Arundel.

The highest-ranking noble was Duke Aegir, who was sitting behind his desk, unlike the other nobles who were seated in front of it. He was still the same larger man as last time, though it looked like he was missing some more hair. The Duke wore an elaborate set of clothing colored in the standard shades of an Adrestian noble.

Among the other five nobles, the only one she recognized was Marquis Vestra. He wasn't wearing black as was traditional for members of House Vestra to symbolize their positions as shadows of the Hresvelg. Instead, he was wearing mostly dark blue with hints of red.

Wearing the primary color of Faerghus, a nation born from rebellion against the Empire, suited Marquis Vestra. It showed that he knew what he did when he betrayed her father.

He was the first one to turn and meet Edelgard's gaze. Only to quickly avert his sickly green eyes. A look of shame broke his neutral expression before disappearing in a moment.

"Finally, now everyone has arrived," Duke Aegir spoke first, drawing the attention of the rest of the room to them. The prime minister barely gave Shirou a single glance before glaring at her briefly.

Edelgard glared back, not letting him cower her. She couldn't show any weakness.

"All we got out of your project is these two runts," a man with blueish hair commented. He was far bulkier than the others and wore a shade of red closer to blood, meaning he is in or was in the military. There wasn't a single scar Edelgard could spot on him despite his older age and apparent military background.

He had to be Count Leopold von Bergliez. Edelgard had never met him before, but he was a living legend considered to be the strongest general in the Empire. He is known for being one of the few people in the country with a major crest.

"Physical size isn't everything, you muscle-bound fool," a man with dark green hair and similarly colored eyes rebuked Count Leopold. The man was dressed in the robes of a mage, befitting his smaller stature. "Besides, the cost of the project was far below what it should have been for something of its size. Any return whatsoever is already a profit."

Edelgard tightly clenched her fist as anger built up inside her.

How dare they talk about what they did as if it was some monetary investment. Countless died in their disgusting experiments. All her siblings were dead.

Next to her, Shirou was staring coldly at the men in front of them. There wasn't a single shred of any emotion on his face. His amber eyes were completely blank.

"It isn't only their size. I don't need to test them to see their untrained and unconditioned. Caspar is around their age and twice as combat-ready," Count Leopold said while looking them over.

"We're not sending them into combat tomorrow," the most average one among the nobles said. He sat further away from the others. "We just got through the war with Brigid and Dagda. Hopefully, they have many years to grow before they're forced to fight."

War with Brigid and Dagda?

She hadn't heard of that, and it's already over? What else could've happened since she was last free?

It was daunting knowing so little when it felt like a single mistake could get her killed.

"Well said," Arundel's lip quirked upwards. Edelgard could barely stop herself from reacting as he put his hand on her shoulder. He was barely putting any pressure in the grip, but he might as well have been trying to strangle her. The only reason her hands weren't shaking was due to them already balled into fists. "Our little princess has gained the Crest of Flames. Her potential… it hasn't been seen since the days of Nemesis. She could become even stronger than him."

They had forced the same crest as Nemesis upon her body, and he was now comparing her to him. Were they trying to make her into the next Nemesis? Into a replica of the one her ancestors fought against?!

"At least someone has potential," a man with purple hair and a small mustache muttered. He looked completely annoyed. "Bernadetta can't even follow directions properly, much less rival Nemesis."

"They do have a strong look in their eyes," Count Bergliez completely ignored the purple-haired noble. "But what's the deal with the boy? Does he have the Crest of Flames as well?"

Edelgard glanced at Shirou, who looked like he was barely holding himself back from saying something. She could tell by the way he seemed to be taking deep breaths.

"Apparently, the mages we commissioned decided to go off on a side project and produced this peasant from it," Duke Aegir said louder than he needed to, drawing attention to himself. "Why Arundel insists on keeping him around is beyond me."

"Then why don't we proceed with the demonstration to prove their worth," Arundel finally removed his hand from Edelgard's shoulder to her infinite relief. He reached into his pocket and pulled out –

A steel dagger.

One with a blue hilt and a gold-colored guard and pommel.

There was nothing special about it beyond it being an expensive dagger, but it meant the world to Edelgard. It was the last gift she ever received, given to her by her best friend to cut her own path.

The princess never even got a chance to use it. She had left it in the carriage with the rest of her things when she first returned to the palace and never had the chance to retrieve it.

She hadn't thought about it in an eternity… but seeing it left her feeling empty.

"I believe this is yours, El," Arundel handed her the dagger, which she accepted without saying a word. Its hilt felt cold and foreign in her hand, like it didn't belong.

"What do you want me to do with this?" Edelgard calmly asked. She couldn't stop herself from glancing over at Duke Aegir. An imaginary picture of her using the dagger on him playing in her mind before quickly fading.

"I want you to stab your little friend while using your second crest," He ordered her with a straight face and without a hint of hesitation. Only one or two of the nobles looked taken aback by the order; the eyes of the others belayed their interest.

Edelgard gripped the dagger tightly. She wouldn't – she couldn't Shirou on the orders of this twisted mockery of her uncle. It wasn't right or fair. Shirou didn't do anything to deserve to be stabbed, even if he would survive it. And this dagger was given to her to make her own path. Using it like this, on the orders of others, would be an insult to Dee.

"Is that all," Shirou spoke for the first time since they entered Duke Aegir's office. His face broke into a small smile that she was sure was meant for her and no one else in the room. "Come on, El. I can handle it."

Count Bergliez laughed in the background. "This one has a strong will."

Edelgard ignored everyone else in the room, instead focusing solely on Shirou's eyes. There was a determination in them that spoke to her, that made her consider putting aside all her doubts and stabbing him. It was no weaker than hers… and she could understand that he would find any alternative to be infinitely worse than the decision he came to.

She understood because she was the same.

The princess put aside her doubts and morals to meet the will of the one suffering for her sake.

The pain and uncontrollable furious strength that came with her new crest came to life within her. It hurt just keeping it active, but the flames hadn't consumed her in the past, and they wouldn't know.

Edelgard held the dagger in her hand like how Dee taught her and stabbed it through Shirou's right shoulder. Shirou's smile broke, and he flinched, but that only lasted a moment before he seemed to recover despite the blade in his shoulder. The blood flowed from the wound down the dagger blade and onto her hand. Then –

It was all gone.

Not just the blood but the pain.

She felt pure bliss as what felt like endless power radiated through her body like the heat of a fire. Shirou's blood seemed to be evaporated by flames that weren't, at least not yet.

It was enough to wipe away her mind. To sweep away any person no matter how strong a will they have.

But Edelgard wouldn't allow it. Not when this power came from the suffering of a friend.

It took what felt like an eternity to pull back the dagger, but she did it. The power dimmed, and the flow stopped, but so much remained, fading slowly. Just waiting to be used.

"See, I could handle it," Shirou commented, dragging her back to reality. Her eyes moved from the small smile that returned to his face and to the wound that was already healing in front of their eyes. Already, the size of the stab was half the size it originally was.

It was as Shirou said. He could handle it, but Edelgard still felt guilty. The worst part was that she enjoyed it for even a moment.

"Now, Count Bergliez, would you block a punch from my niece?" Arundel asked.

Edelgard put her guilt in the back of her mind and looked over at the count. He and several of the other nobles were looking at Shirou's rapidly healing wound. Duke Aegir was the sole exception that didn't seem interested. Not a single one reacted to putting the dagger in a pocket on her torso meant to house a small weapon in case of an assassination attempt. Hiding it from her sight.

After what she just did… she wouldn't feel bad punching one of the nobles.

The count grumbled to himself before walking over to her and rolling up his sleeves. He looked at her with analytical eyes, measuring her. "Give me your best shot."

Unlike with Shirou, she didn't hesitate and tried to punch him with the full power of her new crest.

The military general with a Major Crest of Cichol blocked the attack with his arm but was still pushed back several feet from the single blow.

The count barely looked like he wasn't even affected by the punch, but there was still a surprised look on his face. "The punch itself was horrible, but the power… She'll be a real monster when she grows up."

Edelgard, once again, barely held back one of her reactions. She… she deserved to be called a monster, which might be why the comment seemed to cut deep.

Count Bergliez looked between her and Shirou with approval in his eyes before walking back over to the other nobles, some of whom were talking amongst themselves.

"It seems the Empire will have a strong emperor in the future," the one with dark green hair said, causing Duke Aegir to subtly glare at him. His words were met with nods of agreement from the nondescript noble and Marquis Vestra. The purple-haired noble didn't seem to care and just wanted this meeting done with.

"Then she'll be crowned the next in line to the throne at a ceremony by the end of the year," Duke Aegir looked directly into her eyes with contempt dripping from his own. He sat up straighter. "Hopefully, she'll learn from her predecessor's example and rectify his mistakes."

Edelgard knew she should be concerned by Aegir's obvious threat, but all she felt was relief. They were making her next in line for the throne, not making her emperor as a figurehead while a regent manages affairs. Her father must still be alive.

"Very good, then I will be seeing these two to their new living quarters," Arundel instantly tried to pull her and Shirou out of the meeting now that he got what he wanted. But neither she nor Shirou was complaining.

"Hold on," Marquis Vestra interjected before Arundel could lead them out of the room. It was the first time he had spoken to anybody in the room since Edelgard had entered. "House Vestra is in charge of such matters. I already have a member of my house prepared to handle this and serve our princess."

This man was in charge of House Vestra, the loyal shadow of House Hresvelg, for over a millennium, and he betrayed them. Was he now continuing to soil that legacy by using his house's power to have someone spy on her?

"Fine," Arundel responded, his eyes narrowed in irritation.

"Follow me," Marquis Vestra said, walking toward them as the other nobles were waiting for them to leave before continuing to discuss politics and policy. "I had the foresight to expect this and told them to wait along the path to the princess's room."

Edelgard followed behind him and Arundel, staying next to Shirou. She didn't say anything until they were a hallway away from Duke Aegir's office.

"I'm sorry, Shirou," she apologized to him.

Shirou stared at her for a moment before looking down at where she stabbed him. There was no trace of the wound besides the tear in his clothing. His healing powers were truly incredible and far beyond anything she imagined humans could do.

"Don't apologize… I told you to, and it's not like you had a choice," Shirou refused to accept her expression of regret. There was no smile on his face, his gaze growing cloudy. "Don't worry about me… I'm pretty sure I can heal from anything now."

"Being able to heal any wound doesn't preclude me from worrying about you," Edelgard told him. "You shouldn't accept being wounded as something unimportant."

"I get it, I do," Shirou suddenly sounded slightly defensive. "I don't want to get hurt… but I wouldn't regret getting hurt to help someone else."

"Shirou…" Edelgard started but couldn't continue. She didn't have the right to lecture him on this after she stabbed him to follow Arundel's orders and gain the approval of the high-ranking nobles. And when he said he would help her in the future… where he would most likely end up getting hurt for her sake.

Any retort would feel hollow in that light.

The group fell into silence, though they were the only to talking and were far enough behind the two adults to hold their own conversations.

They walked for five minutes before turning a hall and seeing an obvious member of House Vestra, only slightly older than she was now, waiting for them.

Edelgard looked at him.

He was dressed in all black and had hair of the same shade. His green eyes narrowed in anger when they fell upon Marquis Vestra before softening once they wandered to her. His entire expression was filled with relief which then returned to an almost cruel expression.

He looked so familiar…

It only took her a second to remember why. That had to be Hubert. He was far older than before, but Edelgard could never mistake his identity. Before she left the Empire for Faerghus, he had been her closest servant. They might have spent more time together than she did with her father.

Was he going to be like Arundel? Betraying her trust and hurting her. Will he see her as only something to be used? A tool. Not a person.

Marquis Vestra hand-picked Hubert to watch her. A traitor wouldn't choose someone who was sympathetic to her. They would pick someone they could control and use to keep her in line. And who was better than one's own child? From what she could remember, the pair always had an extremely close relationship.

Considering that, Edelgard prepared herself to be betrayed yet again. Not allowing the possibility of him being on her side to fester.

"Lord Arundel, Marquis Vestra," Hubert spoke first, with a venom in his voice that surprised Edelgard. The way he said the name of his father dripped with vile. Her former servant never spoke about his father like that, much less call him by name. "I am here to escort the princess to her room."

Edelgard looked over at Shirou, a look of confusion on his face. He glanced at her for answers, but she had none. Even if the relationship between Marquis Vestra and Hubert wasn't as good as she first thought, that didn't mean he was on her side.

Hubert turned to her, his expression turning into the one he always wore all those years ago. He bowed to her. "Do not worry. I took the liberty to investigate while you were indisposed. And I am now prepared to serve you to the utmost of my ability."

Was he trying to say he was on her side? That he had investigated what had happened while she was in the dungeons?

"Very well," Marquis Vestra intoned. Edelgard couldn't see his eyes, but she could tell from his body language that he was affected by the way Hubert talked to him. For a Vestra to let the control of their bodies slip to the point she could tell something was bothering them said more than any words could. "Lord Arundel and I have important matters we must discuss. Thus, we're leaving them in your care."

Arundel looked at Hubert before glancing back at her and Shirou. "You two should rest well. You have a hard day ahead of you… And do remember who controls your fate."

Edelgard felt her confusion grow… For once, it felt like it wasn't her or Shirou who were being threatened. Yet, the idea that he controls her fate – or anyone's – angered her.

"Then we should be going," Edelgard managed to speak. She was ready to be as far away from Arundel as she could. Shirou silently agreed with a nod.

"Very well, good night, El," Arundel wished them a good night Edelgard was sure wasn't genuine.

"Follow me," Hubert quickly said. He turned and walked away, followed by Edelgard and Shirou. The two of them walked behind him, but not as far away as they did with Arundel.

"That Arundel is a complete jerk," Shirou told her after they were a hallway or two away from the two adult nobles. He was the first one in their group of three to speak. "I bet he only calls you El to get under your skin."

Edelgard nodded, wishing she wouldn't hear that name come out of Arundel's mouth ever again. That name was meant for the people closest to her, not monsters.

" 'Jerk' might be quite the understatement," Hubert added as if this was just a normal conversation.

"Hubert… whose side are you own? What do you hope to gain by being here?" Edelgard questioned him cautiously.

"You know him?" Shirou asked before Hubert could respond.

"He was my closest servant… and friend before I was forced to flee the Empire," Edelgard explained to her friend, who was in a completely unknown environment. She didn't have much experience with politics, nor did she know many high-ranking nobles, as she was ninth in line for the throne. The fourth princess. She was never expected to take deeply engage with politics, especially not at the age she left. Yet, she still knew some people and had connections. Shirou had nothing. "His family – House Vesta – served as my family's closest allies since the founding of the empire."

"A 1,000-year legacy my father spat on for selfish greed," Hubert spoke with a sorrowful voice. "Lady Edelgard, I must apologize for my father's foolish actions."

Edelgard didn't expect Hubert to apologize for his father's actions or seem so truthful. For him to care. She was prepared for betrayal, yet was unsure of what to do when it didn't come. A part of her wanted to trust her, but a stronger, more raw aspect of her was wary. Not trusting this wasn't an act.

"Tell me, Hubert, what did you find in your investigation," Edelgard fished to know what he knew. To hear something that proved he couldn't be trusted. To hear something that proved he was still her friend.

"I heard of Lord Arundel's return, only to find you absent," Hubert brought his hand up to his mouth. Edelgard moved a little closer to him after Shirou did. "In my search for you, I discovered some… disturbing secrets. Eventually, getting my hands on several mutilated corpses that were said to have come from the palace's dungeon… and from there, I learned of the horrors being performed beneath Enbarr. I must confess I know not the extent of what was done to you."

"And I doubt you will ever truly know or understand," Edelgard plainly told him. The emotional and physical pain could never be expressed to one who didn't go through it. One couldn't even get an idea from looking at their bodies. Shirou's body healed without leaving a single scar, even if it was a severed limb or gash across half his chest. As for her, those who conducted the experiments made sure she never had a single scar. They could cover her body in bone-deep wounds and not leave a single trace of their deed.

The only sign of what they did was their hair. Otherwise, their suffering was relegated to memories. Sometimes, she looked at her body and began to imagine the countless scars that should cover her. The fabrication is as bad or worse than any truth.

Hubert didn't say anything else. Maybe knowing there was for the best. Neither she nor Shirou was in the mood to keep talking after being reminded of their suffering.

The walk to her room slowly got more familiar, and she came to realize she was being led to her old room. A space that no longer matched who she was.

After she realized that, the walk seemed to take forever before they reached her room.

The room that was her old bedroom was marked with a large door emblazed with the symbol of House Hresvelg. There wasn't any dust around, so it must have been cleaned recently.

"I was informed of your new… retainer and prepared a room for him," Hubert told her, not talking to Shirou. His green eyes were studying her, her reaction.

Shirou seemed hesitant. Nervous, but quickly hid it. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow morning, El."

Edelgard looked at him for a minute, wanting to let him stay but was worried that might not be a good idea. Both of them had terrible nightmares, but only one of them had two crests capable of strengthening her to the point she could break someone's neck. It would be astonishingly easy for her to accidentally hurt him in her terror.

And she didn't feel it was right to have him sleep on the ground while she lay in the single bed. Not after the countless days they spent on the floor.

"Don't hesitate to come to me if you need to for any reason," Edelgard said softly. Her eyes briefly flashed to Hubert, unsure of his trustworthiness but still withholding a verdict. "Good night, Shirou."

"Night," Shirou responded. He followed Hubert as they left down the hall without another word.

Edelgard turned toward her bedroom door and entered it.

Opposite. Odd. Wrong. Foreign.

Those were the thoughts that filled Edelgard as she looked at the room. It was the opposite of what she was used to. Luxury and extravagance filled the room.

The room was so large. The bed was big and covered with many blankets and pillows. A lavish mirror and desk were stationed on one wall. Cold filtered through the room via magic to keep the space cool even in the hot climate of the Adrestian Empire.

A pleasant aroma filled the area. Someone had come in recently and cleaned the room, wiping away any dust.

Was this really where she used to live?

Edelgard walked to her bed and noticed something sitting atop it. A small teddy bear. She vaguely remembered it. Crying over the fact that she left it in the palace when she was taken to Faerghus. The stuffed animal once comforted her when she needed it.

The princess sat on her bed and picked up the bear, hugging it against her chest. Despite everything that happened. How much she changed. It still somehow soothed her a tiny bit. Almost enough to forget the dagger on her person.

Shirou quietly followed behind the strange, evil-looking black-haired teenager. Each step they took taking them further away from El's room. The boy ended up walking almost side by side with Hubert.

He barely had any idea about what Hubert's deal was. All Shirou knew was that he and El were once friends, and then his father betrayed her family.

The older teenager didn't seem to be on the side of the nobles from earlier. And he cared for El, but she didn't fully trust him yet. Shirou didn't know what he thought of Hubert, only feeling open to him because he hadn't done anything to them yet.

"Tell me… Shirou, was it?" Hubert asked rhetorically. His eyes switched from looking down the hallway to looking down at him. "What is your role in the transpiring events?"

Shirou fidgeted slightly. It was odd to talk to someone other than El. He found himself awkwardly hesitating while thinking of an answer. Fortunately, Hubert gave him time to think.

"I survived too and promised to help El," Shirou answered bluntly. Those were the only things that were important as far as he was concerned.

"And what pray tell did you promise to help her with?" Hubert questioned.

"With her goals… with helping people," Shirou said the first part before turning away and whispering the second part. El could tell Hubert more about her goal if she wanted to, but he wasn't going to tell a random person. Plus, he barely knew what her goals entailed beyond something about crests and making Fodlan better.

"Hm," Hubert didn't push the subject. Accepting the fact that he wouldn't reveal anything about that. "And who are you? Your name is an oddity. Furthermore, you alone survive alongside Lady Edelgard."

Shirou frowned. He wouldn't talk about his past. There was no getting it back or going back. He wouldn't even if he could. So, he would put his past in the box in the back of his mind, where he locked away things he didn't want to remember. Things to painful for him. With time, he'll gain enough new memories to keep them from intruding in his day-to-day thoughts.

"Who I was don't matter… All I am is what I am now," Shirou refused to elaborate or say anything more on that matter to this stranger. "And I will help El, no matter what."

If Hubert was really loyal to El, then assuring him that he was on her side might expunge some of his concerns.

"You claim you will help her no matter what," the black-wearing teenager repeated, studying him.

Shirou brought his hand to the hole in the shoulder of his clothing. He let her – encouraged her – to stab him to prevent her from making a scene with those nobles.

The boy wanted to save everyone. If he had to choose between killing someone or himself, he would always choose himself. Following El would mean he could help people and help her. Help her like how he utterly failed to in the past.

Shirou wasn't stupid. He knew the world wasn't a nice enough place to only give you a choice between another person and yourself. Sometimes you have to do things you don't want to.

He had already been trained to fight other mages, the mindset behind such fights. A fight that was to always be considered to be to death by default. Killing was something he didn't want to do, but he knew he could do it if he had to.

In other words…

"That is what I said, and I meant it," Shirou told him as Hubert started to slow down as they approached a door. "I will do anything to help her. No matter what it is."

Hubert's eyes stared into his amber ones, even as they fully came to a stop in front of a door. Neither one of them looked away from the other. Both refusing to be the one to blink.

After a moment that felt like an eternity, Hubert smirked ever so slightly. As if he had just heard a funny joke, and it looked terrifying.

"We have arrived at your room… I arranged for you to be placed in a room within a currently vacant hallway," Hubert said. "Do try to stay here until Lady Edelgard or myself come for you."

Shirou frowned, not understanding why he was placed far away from anyone else. At least he wasn't likely to run into anyone else.

"Ok…" Shirou muttered and entered his room, closing the door behind him without letting Hubert say another word. His ability to end conversations gracefully was gone, and that was the best he could do.

Shirou looked around his small room, filled with the necessities in some people's eyes. It was still filled with more things than any room he's had since before the fire. He never was someone who needed or wanted a lot of things.

He only hoped he'd be able to sleep here. It would take a long time to adjust to a place so different from the dungeon. That was so nice.

Far away from the imperial capital of Enbarr was the Garreg Mach Monastery. It sat in the middle of Fodlan and was the heart of the Church of Seiros. Here all the most important members of the Church worked away their days doing the goddess's work.

Within it, no person was more powerful than Archbishop Rhea. Her political and military strength was second to none, and unlike the three major nations, her influence was spread all across Fodlan.

That night, she was standing silently at the top of the Star Terrace, looking down at the entire monastery. From her position, all the humans below looked so small as they went about their lives. Many of them were simply standing around talking or in groups with others. This late, most people were done with their work and enjoying their free time.

It was incredible how beings with such short lifespans, with such little power of their own, were capable of such destruction. Of such death.

Sometimes, it made Rhea so tired of them. Of the suffering they cause.

Today was one of those days.

The Adrestian Empire had to go and subjugate Brigid. Rhea understood the fact that they were attacked first, assaulted by their combined alliance with Dagda. But they went beyond defending themselves and brought a nation not of Fodlan into their fold. A place without her mother to guide her.

When she walked this world millennium ago as Saint Seiros, she came to one truth. Human beings were frail ignorant creatures unable to accomplish anything without the guidance of the goddess.

Anything built without her light was corrupt, and anything that lost it was doomed to fail. To fall into corruption and replace virtues with vices.

A place like Brigid would only corrupt the Empire further than it was already falling. Its people slowly turning away from the goddess.

It frustrated her more than words could express, but she couldn't do anything to stop it.

In the process of this war, thousands died caught in the crossfires of the conflict. Countless more lost their homes. Now this and the conflicts she was sure would arise from the subjugated nation.

And she had no answer on how to stop it. Her mother would have. If she was around, everything would be alright. If Rhea could revive her instead of failing time and time again, all would be made well. Mother would embrace her with those gentle hands, healing the ache that's guided her for so long. Her only desire fulfilled. A small yet precious dream…

It slipped through her fingers like the dust of an hourglass. Stolen by human greed and hate. Things still propagating a thousand years later. And she was the only one who could stop it. That was her duty. The burden she's held for countless human generations.

This world was her mother's. It shouldn't be torn apart and desecrated by humans. Rhea was a person who simply couldn't sit by while that happened.

And she couldn't just kill all the humans, even if she had the power to. Even if a voice in her head said, they deserved it for all that they had done.

After the genocide of her people. The murder of her mother. Rhea had truly considered slaughtering them in turn. Getting revenge for the atrocity they committed, but she was persuaded off that path by a single random human. Wilhelm, a random peasant who lost everything to Nemesis, showed her the potential for good in his kind.

Together than gathered the surviving Nabateans and an army of humans who came to follow her mother's light. They slew Nemesis and united all of Fodlan together into one nation. Even if Wilhelm died before he could see it. His murder was not left unavenged; Rhea personally tracked down the strange teleporting mage responsible and tore him to pieces bit by bit. No matter how far he could run with his magic, it wasn't far enough to escape her wraith.

For the light – the potential – they showed humanity possed if led correctly, Rhea set aside much of her anger.

It wasn't the fault of humans that they were born into savagery.

Yet, year by year, she lost faith in what she saw before. The darkness and evil they refused to give up. The way they turned away from the one that made them what they were.

It was becoming so hard to think humans were worth anything. Especially when the good faithful ones were so rare yet short-lived. Always dying in the blink of an eye to be replaced by a normal human.

It's like growing close to a flower with a short lifespan; after so many, you stop caring. Even though they are pulchritudinous. They all start to blend together and are eventually forgotten. No matter how much you want to remember.

A cold wind blew chilling, made worse by how high up she was standing alone on the Star Terrace.

Her mother wasn't there to offer her a blanket like she used to. The other remaining Nabateans weren't here to transform alongside her and create a massive bonfire. Wilhelm was gone forever, never to huddle together with her again like they did on so many cold nights of those centuries ago.

All Rhea could do was shiver and look up at the cloudy night sky without a star to be seen.