"Alright!" Charlie smiled, scooting even closer to William so their hips touched, her right leg swinging lightly, brushing against his left every so often. "Then, if you need to ask Stolas something, or even Stella, just tell me—I'll find a way to do it…!" Charlie nodded firmly, placing a hand on her chest, eyes closed in a wide smile. "But, I also wanted to ask…" Her voice grew quieter, eyes lowering for a brief moment. "What would you think about going—"
"The Influence of Sin on the Human Soul… If that's even in the Goetia Prince's library, which most likely doesn't deal with this at all…" William thought meanwhile, tapping his finger on the table, then shifting his hand to tap against Charlie's knee.
Instead of protest or exclamation, it only drew a soft laugh from her.But William paid little mind to it.
He was missing something—something that had tripped him up the last time…The flame of an ancient ritual performed by the Goat Cult, the so-called "main" demon-worshippers, rumored to be in direct contact with the Devil himself. And William could believe it, watching the surprisingly small figure forming out of crimson tongues of fire.
Their "transport" carried them further through the skies of Hell, the outline of the City of Sinners growing clearer in the distance, as Charlie's hand rested on William's knee once more.
"B-by the way, we could also visit another Goetia family!" Charlie exclaimed, her eyes darting between the window, where the city loomed closer, and William himself. "Not the Eldritches, of course, but I think Stella's brother, Andro…" Her voice rose a pitch, words spilling faster, as if trying to cram her thoughts into a few hurried phrases.
William's gaze locked onto Charlie's face.That same grin—baring sharp teeth, as though ready to sink into his throat.
The words He had spoken back then—the superiority in every careless gesture…William blinked, suppressing a sharp exhale.
"…and then, we could also visit Uncle Ozzie at work. He's been sending invitations for a couple of months, but he understands how busy I am!" Charlie laughed softly, raising a mug of some unknown liquid to her lips. The blue lights never left her.
A voice that gave no chance for hope of acceptance, or even understanding.Open disdain seeping through every word, twisting truth and lies into one single, dreadful whole, leaving no room to recall their exact meaning.
William, unblinking, continued to stare at Charlie, until, after a moment of silence without his reply, she finally turned to him.
"…W-William?" Charlie whispered, her pitch rising on the last syllable. Her crimson eyes darted around the carriage of the "machine," flicking from the window, where the outlines of the Outskirts of the City of Sinners had grown sharp, to the table with the nearly finished hot drink, then back to William's face."Is… is something wrong?" Charlie managed to recover her voice's firmness only at the end, though her cheeks flushed. "Do you want…?"
But William stared into those crimson eyes…Eyes that tracked his every step, word, and subtle motion. Sometimes narrowed, hiding the truth; sometimes bright with laughter.
That cursed laughter, still ringing in his ears.Long and drawn-out, echoing with pain in his chest—whether from shame at his foolishness before the elder, or resentment for something he couldn't even name…
But most of all—the Meaning.
"Charlie." William's voice, quiet yet unnaturally sharp, made the demoness flinch, her shoulders jerking though they pressed firmly against his. He paid no mind to how close the Princess of Hell's face had become."When you meet with Stolas, could you ask about the rituals demons use—whether Goetia, lesser demons, or even humans. Any of them." William spoke, exhaling, finally tearing his gaze from Charlie's face.
From her side came a faint sigh of disappointment, quickly masked by biting into a cookie. In a moment, Charlie had eaten nearly the whole bowl of chocolate-covered treats.
"Alright," she muttered softly, almost grumbling her answer, nodding more for the sake of formality, in case he somehow hadn't heard her. "Just write it down somewhere, so I don't forget." She added, not meeting William's gaze, her tone almost sullen.
William nodded, letting out the breath he had been holding, leaning back against the couch-like seat, closing his eyes.Charlie, despite her show of eating, didn't move away, glancing at him now and then with worried eyes—eyes William still "saw" in the darkness without opening his own.
"Echo," he had named this strange "sight," letting him sense things at a distance without his usual senses."Didn't I… call it something else once?" was William's last thought before he opened his eyes.
Blue threads enveloped everything in the carriage.His gaze dropped to his own hands, which had also "dissolved," becoming nothing more than part of the greater outline.
The shapes of objects remained, becoming outlines and frameworks for the Threads that enveloped…Everything.
William's breath faltered; he lost the last fragments of concentration, staring at… the entire space around them.
It was strange, yet beautiful—a vision where all of Hell, once pitiful in its barren wastelands and crimson shroud, revealed itself to the Fallen Archangel in a different, more vivid light.
He no longer heard Charlie's words, no longer thought of the streams of data constantly flowing into his mind and soul. He simply…Looked.
But… just as quickly and unexpectedly as this "sight" had come, it left him the moment William blinked again.
"What?""How?!""MORE!"—these were the first thoughts that rang all at once in the Fallen Archangel's mind.
Only his old discipline, demanding control of emotions in the face of such phenomena, kept William from exploding in fury and tearing the machine apart.
"William?" Charlie's voice—brighter, yet more anxious for it—sounded beside him, to which William merely waved a hand.
"Are we there?" William exhaled, forcing his tone back to its old steadiness while clutching a notebook and pen, which dissolved instantly into rapid movements as he strove to record everything that had just happened.
Charlie's face tightened, her eyes lingering on his hunched figure before flicking toward the window where rooftops loomed. With a sigh, she collapsed against his shoulder, getting no reaction.
"We need to ride to the other end…" Charlie exhaled heavily, dragging each word slowly until her breath caught. Her crimson eyes widened, heartbeat quickening. She sat upright abruptly, adjusting her slightly crumpled skirt and tugging her slipped straps back into place, stealing a quick glance at the unresponsive William.
"I mean, we need to reach the opposite side of the city, where their residence is located!" Charlie blurted out quickly before peeking into his notebook—only to see the text growing, filled with words she couldn't understand.
William paid no attention to the sudden shift in the Princess of Hell's demeanor, only focusing on reconstructing the memory of what had happened—a memory that, like a cruel joke, refused to take shape, lingering as a blurred image, still unformed.
Charlie said something, but the Lord of Silence cast only a brief glance at the window, where his reflection was clearly visible.
William nodded at the increasingly angelic face staring back—long on its way to recovery, steadily losing that foul dark-gray, almost ashen hue, returning instead to its natural white. Though a long road lay ahead before full healing and his former angelic form returned, William was content…
His shoulders twitched, his eyes blinked rapidly, before with a gesture he summoned a small mirror from Charlie's hands, earning her indignant gasp, and looked at…
His white Mask of Silence—the one he had donned before their departure.
William exhaled, saying something briefly to Charlie as he returned the mirror. She nodded slowly in reply, accepting it and quickly resuming her preparations.
William cast the written notes aside, letting the Weave continue the recording.Only a fleeting glance at the window—where his reflection smirked back at him and winked.