Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Flames crackled as sparks flew all around the air, debris from destroyed structures fell, constant explosions boomed in the distance.

Countless clanging of steel hitting each other rang, people screaming as their bodies were pierced.

Smoke covered the entire Capital City of Lugunica, bodies adorned with cultist robes, knight uniforms and even civilians alike laid limp on the ground.

- Betty, take care of those cultists there, please!

- Betty's on it, I suppose!

A girl with silver hair ordered, her hands holding a blade of ice. Then, the air around her went cold.

Many icicles formed out of thin air, then sent flying to a group of cultists in front of a civilian.

Two were hit, while the other three dodged or blocked. But without a moments notice, Emilia had already dashed over to them, slashing one in their torso.

Seeing their chance, the remaining two quickly attempted to counterattack.

Yet, as their blades started to reach her, air in front of her started to freeze.

An ice barrier formed, blocking their lunges. The blades clanged as they were slightly pushed back from being deflected.

- Don't think Betty will let anything happen to her contractor, I suppose!

Two purple crystals lodged in their hearts, their bodies falling unto the ground alongside their companions.

Their chest crystallized as the crystals dissipated.

- How is your side? Did you take care of them, Betty?

The girl with elven ears questioned, her voice slightly weak and tired.

- It's fine, I suppose...you must rest before we continue.

- No, no, I'm fine. We still have many more people needing help.

Beatrice sighed at her hard-headed contractor, rubbing her temples. She did not want Emilia to strain herself, she's been fighting for almost two days now.

Then, she smiled. That just meant that the girl had a kind heart, helping people even if it harmed herself.

That did not feel right. Like something was missing, a piece...

She shook her head, waving the thoughts away.

- Betty, are you alright?

- ...Betty is fine, I suppose. Now, shall we go?

- Okay!

Again...something in the drill-haired blonde didn't feel quite right. That unfamiliar word...

- What does that even mean...?

- Ahh...eh? I must've gotten it from Garfiel. Doesn't he like saying those idioms?

It's been like this for a few months, now. That feeling of loss, a piece missing.

- Oh well, shall we go now?

Emilia nodded her head, now sounding more energetic. The duo then continued their mission, finding and saving any survivor while fighting off Witch Cultists.

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Ever since the death of the Sin Archbishop of Pride and Greed a few months prior, the people of Lugunica had been living in a short period of peace.

Greed was slain, Wrath captured, but Gluttony and Lust escaped their grasp. The latter two mostly responsible for their current headaches.

The people with devoured name were due to the Gluttonies, and the poor souls who were unfortunate enough to meet with the Sin Archbishop of Lust, Capella.

Wrath couldn't be interrogated, she never answers. Yet, if she was ever harmed, they risked being caught in her authority.

She just monologues on, and on, and on, and on about love. About the boy who reeked with more miasma than them, the one most beloved by all.

The Sin Archbishop of Pride, the Great Spirit of Yin subdued the cultist who, according to her, lied that he was her real contractor.

He asked if they had a contract, her face burning with anger after confirming.

She had concluded that he used his power to temper with the contract she had with Emilia.

Enraged, the spirit casted multiple Minyas and he easily went down.

He was already in a very injured state, desperate and manic. Luckily, Emilia had managed to stop her from causing any more damage and allowed for the cultist to be imprisoned.

There, he was placed in an interrogation room, so he may have a chance to prove his innocence. A chance the half-elf gave her through the spirit's reluctance.

First, they were simply questions. He said he didn't know anything, he said his name was eaten.

But then Beatrice pointed out his miasma, completely screwing him over...and then as they searched him, a gospel was found in his pockets.

He tried to lie to them, saying it was to figure out anything about the Witch Cult.

That was clearly concrete proof that he was indeed a cultist.

After that, he was ordered to be vacated from the room and given a cell. Filthy, dark, cold. All forms of uncomfortable you could think.

Several people came to ask him questions, all of them from the Dragon Priestess' camps.

Ram asked him, expression showing scorn. She wanted to know how to turn her sister back to normal. He didn't know.

Garfiel questioned him, eyes glaring with anger. He wanted to heal his family, inflicted with Capella's authority.

Emilia. She was as she always was. Kind and considerate, but that didn't mean she was wary. She seemed always guarded near him.

She wanted to believe. That he was a kind person, not an evil cultist. She asked for a possible solution, yet he did not know.

Beatrice looked ready to kill him if he made any suspicious movement.

Julius wanted his name returned, the boy did not know how. He hoped that the knight would be able to see through him, to no avail.

Felix demanded a cure for his lady's curse. After suggesting he go to Crusch and try to solve it, the feline slapped him and stormed out, muttering something about a manipulator.

Of course, what knight would allow an archbishop near his sick lady?

This went on for another day, then another, and then another. Their frustration was getting clear to him.

Each day, he felt anxious. That they would finally snap. That their calm would finally break.

Each day, he sensed their rising malice. He slightly trembled when one of them attempted to question him.

What else could he do? He really knew nothing.

If only Reinhard was here...he could confirm that he was innocent. Yet, it was said that the Sword Saint was away on a mission.

Then, a week passed.

It was Felix's turn to interrogate him. Everytime they did, they made him go to a room with a table, cuffing his hands that seemed to nullify magic and strapped him to a chair.

This time he looked more desperate, trembling. He seemed afraid of something, maybe for his lady's health...or his failure as a knight.

He seemed unstable, mind too troubled to properly think.

- T-the cure...TELL ME! I NEED TO HEAL CRUSCH-SAMA, or I'll...

He yelled with boiling frustration, choking out his last words.

- I keep telling you! I'm not! I'm not a cultist! I'M NOT ONE OF THEM!

Subaru snapped back, his emotions finally spilling. He was frustrated, he was angry. Why must he go through this?

Why must he endure the cold, piercing gazes of his friends?

Why must he try to swat away that feeling of abandonment? Of loneliness?

Why? Why? Why?

- SHUT UP, YOU CULTIST! YOU DON'T KNOW! SHE'S...she's...

- THEN LET ME GO TO HER! I'LL HEAL HER, I'LL SAVE HER!

The healer's eyes widened, pupils dilated. His brows furrowed, baring his fangs as he gritted.

- You...WHAT KIND OF A JOKE ARE YOU MAKING?! DO YOU THINK I'M STUPID?!

Felix screamed, grabbing Subaru's collar tightly.

- I...If I was an archbishop, would I really be letting this situation happen?!

The raven-haired boy tried to argue, eyes glaring.

- HAH?! BEATRICE-SAMA CONFIRMED HERSELF!

The feline argued back, voice filled with certainty.

- YOU THINK YOU CAN FOOL ME?!

He formed a fist, aiming it to Subaru. The boy tried to face away from it, his body restrained in the chair.

- ...enough. Starting tommorow, i'll be in charge of you. Until you spit out the truth.

A shadow on his face formed, his fist dropping. He forced the boy away as he let go of his collar.

Subaru's heart beated rapidly, sweat dropping from his forehead.

He did not know. Truly, did he not. Yet, he still pays for the cult's sins. Him. Him. HIM. Of all people.

The days that followed were harsh, knights came to interrogate him. If he did not answer, he was beaten. If he said he didn't know, he was still beaten.

His friends from Emilia's camps were no different, they were more aggresive now. Garfiel resisted punching him full force, Ram almost casting her wind magic and ending him.

The few people he hoped would come didn't, Emilia was busy helping with the damages caused during Priestella's siege. Reinhard was away and probably won't come back for a while.

He was alone in the world, right now. Probably the most, out of all who existed. He was forgotten, no one remembered him.

His body hurts, being punched hurts, being kicked hurts, being beaten hurts. His bones hurt, his bruises hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt.

Being forgotten hurt.

He laid on the floor, eyes showing clear signs of exhaustion ans fatigue.

He did not want to accept it, that he was abandoned.

They chained his arms, legs, and neck. All of which nullified any use of magic.

His face felt swollen, an arm broken, ribs shattered. A warm feeling enveloped him, a hand healing his injuries.

- This'll be all, archbishop. You need to stay alive, so we may continue to question you.

Felix muttered, soon leaving the room. Blood dried his tracksuit, now torned and riddled with small holes.

Another day passed, more pain for him to endure. More times for him to say he did not know.

Then another. And another. And another. And another.

Each passing day, the knights methods intensified. The feline just watching them, waiting for him to spill out anything.

They tried pulling out his nails, cutting off a finger, a hand, an arm, a foot, anything they could to inflict as much pain as they could.

They stabbed his eyes, riddled his body with needles, pour lava on him.

He screamed, and screamed, and screamed. Echoing into the dark, dirty corridors of the prison.

He can't break. Not now, not yet. It hurt. Everything hurt. He musn't give up. Endure. Endure.

Everytime he almost died, Felix healed him. Only to do it all over again.

And again. And again. And again. And again.

His vision seemed blurry, dark. He swore he saw a graying strand of hair fall atop him.

Garfield and Ram had finally stopped coming, even Emilia and Beatrice. He was alone, so alone.

He wanted to talk. He wanted a nice conversation. He felt cold. He wanted warmth.

The days ticked away, hours slipping his mind, minutes going unnoticed, seconds unexisting. It was only pain, merely pain.

Why? Why? Why? It hurts. It hurts.

Before he knew it, Felix had already joined in with the knights. His methods even more painful, more horrifying, more traumatizing.

It was as if fate was playing a cruel joke on him, or maybe this was what he deserved.

He tried killing himself, he tried biting his tongue, they managed to heal him and gagged his mouth.

He stopped himself from breathing, yet the knight that guarded him was quick to alert his allies. They healed him, and his attempt was in vain.

Ever since, one had always watched him, taking turns. They never took their eyes off of him. They never allowed him to die.

A cruel joke, indeed.

Because he was slothful, for he did not want to know that he had been forsakened.

Because he was greedy, for trying to save everyone, not wanting for it to turn out like Rem.

Because he was prideful, for thinking he could ever stand next to them.

Because he was wrathful, for letting his emotions take over him.

Because he was envious, for longing to be happy.

His blood was boiled, his nerves fried, cuts littered his skin, bruises around his body.

He didn't want to give up, he didn't want to believe, he didn't want to think.

That he was alone. He hoped they would come back and save him. Then, they would smile at him and tell him everything was okay.

Yet, they never did.

Atleast three months had passed, and all of them finally had enough. They looked at him like he was useless.

He knew what would happen. What they would do.

They had brought him out of the cell, finally giving him a bath. But, you wouldn't really call it that. They just poured cold water on him, then changed his clothes into one, huge cloth.

They covered his face with a mask, cuffing his hands.

He wished he could escape, yet they were stronger. His chains rattled as a knight pulled them, forcing him to somewhere.

A wooden door creaked open. In the distance, he heard chanting. Shouting. Screaming.

- DEATH TO THE ARCHBISHOP!

- DIE, YOU MURDERER!

The crowd yelled, throwing stones at him. He flinched back in pain, no one even trying to block for him.

He was Pride, so what else did he expect? But...

If only Garfield was here, to protect and shield him.

- DEATH TO PRIDE!

They continued, their voices echoing in unison.

If only Emilia was here, to comfort him and the pain.

- MANIAC! MURDERER!

If only Ram was here, to tease him and make him smile.

If only Rem was here, If only Beatrice was here. If only. If only. If only.

He stumbled, his eyes unseeing of the wooden stairs. The knight pulled him up on a wooden platform as he struggled, clutching the collar around his neck in pain.

They continued to stone him, hitting even the scars the cloth he wore hid.

- SILENCE, PEOPLE!

A familiar voice from a certain purple-haired knight rang.

Then, everything went quiet. The chanting stopped, the stoning seized, the insults paused.

- FOR CENTURIES, THE WITCH CULT HAS WON VICTORY AFTER VICTORY AGAINST US! Well...TODAY! MARKS NOT THE FIRST, BUT OUR SECOND VICTORY AFTER THE EMILIA CAMP SLAYED SLOTH!

It was eerily quiet, as if they had been waiting for this moment their whole lives. Their attention completely taken.

- TO THE DRAGON!

- TO THE DRAGON!

The whole crowd chanted, shouting in unison. They cheered as the boy felt something being tied around his neck.

...why...me...?

He only wanted the best for everyone, so he worked hard, so hard...

Why must he go through this? He has done his very best and gave it his all.

Maybe he was being too greedy, to ask for the perfect, happy ending.

Maybe he was too prideful, too stubborn to give up on everyone...everything he held dear.

Was he...ever enough? Was everything he did not enough? All that suffering...the pain...

In this moment, he could only feel the regret piling up in his chest.

Then, the footing under him broke. Everything going quiet instantly.

His neck snapped, his body hanging limp.

And then, light.

His eyes snapped open, the cold stone underneath him seeping into his skin. His eyes locked on the ceiling, completely exhausted.

A lone tear fell from his cheek, a lump forming in his throat.

And then another, and another. They flowed endlessly, his sobs echoing in the stone corridors of the prison.

Another three months had passed, not once during it did he die, only endure. And endure. And endure.

He died.

He woke up in the same cell, same floor, same ceiling, same walls, same bars.

Three months pass, not a single thing changing. Just endure, and endure even more pain. He hoped that they would come save him.

He died again. Faint hesitation in his belief.

He died again. Doubt starting to infect him.

He died again. Anger, he felt towards them.

He died again. Sadness, he felt for himself and his situation.

He died again. He had accepted silently, that no one would come for him.

And then, he died...once again. He just...felt hollow. Everything felt numb to him, whether it be mind or body.

Sometimes he just stared, doing nothing, thinking nothing. He only screamed when they began to torture him all over again. He just didn't want to do anything.

He had given up, he could feel nothing. His eyes were hollow, his breathing weak and slow.

They deemed him as useless and ordered for his execution. Once again. He just wished, that everything would stop.

He just simply existed, then they would hurt him again...rinse and repeat. Over and over again.

They starved him, dehydrated him. Nothing made sense to him anymore.

So when the day he would be executed publicly came, he didn't react. His body just moving on auto-pilot, the same knight dragging him by the chains.

The stones that landed on him didn't hurt as much as they used to. He barely noticed. Getting his blood boiled, nerves fried, limbs cut hurt more.

Then, they would heal him again. Over and over. Again and again. Forever.

Next time, he had to avoid this situation at ANY cost.

And so, when his body hanged in the air, he only remembered his parents.

- ...so...r...y...mom...da...

They were probably worried about their son, so caring and considerate of him. They deserved a better son for sure, one that wouldn't ever dissapoint them.

Someone more fitting than him, who had done nothing but leech off and off.

He wished...that he had done better for them.

And so, he took his last breath.

A month had passed since the death of the Sin Archbishop of Pride, Natsuki Subaru. Four months since their victory in the siege of Priestella.

Once again, the cult attacked the Capital City Lugunica. The battle was harsh, unforgiving. Civilians died, families were seperated, friends murdered, innocents lost their lives.

Lust and Gluttony attacked, leading countless members of the cult. Monsters wrecked havoc as the murderers killed everyone in sight.

Buildings were blown up, structures destroyed. It looked hopeless, yet they managed to win.

It was all thanks to the half-elf, Emilia, and her contracted spirit, Beatrice the Great Spirit of Yin. They slayed 2 of the Gluttony Archbishops, with Lust fleeing along with the rest of the cult.

They had no choice but to kill them, before more innocents died. The two took hostages, so it had to be done.

They did not know if the names of those lost will ever be returned, but their lives must continue on. One of them laughed mockingly, telling them that their greatest regret would soon come.

The half-elf ended him, freezing the second Gluttony archbishop and impaling him with her ice blade.

It proved to be quite challenging, the duo had to avoid calling each other by name while forming strategy after strategy.

The people and the knights cheered as the smoke cleared, the sky finally showing light. It shedded a new dawn for the people of Lugunica.

Many lives were lost, but now, many more would be saved in the future. Only Lust remained for them to eliminate, then they were finally free of the Witch Cult.

The people sang praises of each camp, for subduing the Archbishops and eliminating them. The Emilia camp being the most popular with their feats in slaying the White Whale and reportedly, the Great Rabbit.

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Now, they had returned to the Miload mansion, since the one they were previously staying at was burned down to the ground by [REDACTED] just to save Beatrice.

Ram walked along its grand hallway, a duster in hand. She has been cleaning room after room, preventing any dust from accumulating.

Her supposed twin sister still laid on her bed, eyes closed.

She turned to a familiar room, the door knob turned, the door creaking open.

A blue-haired girl laid still on a small bed, a curtain being blown by gusts of wind. The room was very clean, she always made sure to tend to it.

She always changed that flower in the vase atop the nightstand, making sure that the room was fresh when the girl woke up.

Ram still didn't remember her name, but she knew they were sisters. Their connection making it clear.

The pink-haired girl sincerely wished that her sister would wake up soon. Her dear sister...

- ...Rem.

She muttered, as if her mind was lost for a second. Her eyes looked distracted.

Then, she felt her head splitting. Her memories were coming back, filling the gaps that Gluttony created.

Then, they widened. Her hand trembled, dropping the duster she held.

Rem's finger twitched, her eyelids slowly prying open.

- R-rem...Rem!

She ran to the bed, dropping to her knees as she held her sister's hand.

- Mnhng...

She tried to stop her tears from falling, but they overflowed.

She had forgotten, her precious treasure, her beloved sibling. Rem.

Rem's eyes opened, meeting with Ram's.

- s...-sis...

She couldn't speak. Every part of her body felt weak, since she hasn't moved for a long time.

- REM! Don't worry, just rest! Your sissy will bring you something warm and nice!

Rem was confused, she didn't know what was happening. She barely remembered what happened the last time her eyes were open.

She...she was fighting. Archbishop. Gluttony. Greed. Then, she saw only darkness.

What about Subaru? Where was he? Is he alright? Is he hurt?

She did not know how much time had passed, yet she remembered. Subaru's voice, always told her stories, she heard, her mind did as it remained trapped.

At times, he whispered to her of his worries. At times, his accomplishments. All while she remained asleep.

- S-s...syy...

Ram looked back as she started to exit the room.

- Rem...?

- S-sub...a...ru...

Wh-what? Subaru...who is...

Her eyes widened in confusion, then something on the night table caught her attention. A toy plush for each of them.

Rem. Ram. Garfiel. Emilia. Otto. Petra. Frederica. And everyone else.

Then, the one with raven-hair. The one she never noticed until now. Her head once again shook, memories filling her mind.

Oh. She had forgotten, too.

Not only that, she condemned. And punished.

A breath hitched on her throat, her arms limp.

- N-no. This...it can't be...

The toy plushie of Subaru fell unto the ground, pushing the vase with the flower along with it.

It cracked, shards scattered all over the floor. The flower and plushie fell, water spilled over them.

She had forgotten, they all had. They had left him behind.

Now, he was gone.