Sylvia headed down the hall in the direction the two former suspects had come from.
She hadn't cared much for the investigation at first—mysteries were effort, and effort was the enemy—but now that progress finally seemed within reach, curiosity tugged her along like a gentle thread wound tight around her wrist.
Her steps were light, almost playful. A carefree smile curved her lips; her hands rested comfortably behind her head.
She walked straight into a wall of tension so thick she could practically taste metal on her tongue.
"Whoa. What happened here?"
She nudged Ranni's arm with her elbow, trying to stay breezy despite the suffocating pressure in the air.
Ranni turned with a small, strained smile—one that didn't reach her voice.
"It looks like Evvls may have killed Akatsuke."
Sylvia blinked once.
Twice.
A third time.
Her gaze darted across the room, desperately searching for someone—anyone—to laugh, to wave it off, to say Ranni's joking, don't worry.
But Akari gave a slow, heavy nod.
Shinto mirrored it.
Evvls said nothing… but he didn't flinch, didn't deny, didn't look away.
Sylvia's thoughts tangled violently.
Evvls? Quiet, monotone, socially confusing Evvls? A murderer?
…Or was that exactly the persona he wanted everyone to believe?
The truth hit her harder than expected: she didn't know him.
Not really.
Not beyond surface-level interactions.
His own soul weapon calling him by a different name should've told her that.
And yet—murder?
That word simply didn't fit him in her mind.
Her mental gears spun twice, jammed, then gave up entirely.
"Wow… That's… actually insane. Wait—how did it even happen? Why would he do that?"
"That's the problem," Evvls said softly. "I don't remember."
Sylvia's brain promptly collapsed in on itself.
Both palms pressed to her temples as if she needed to physically hold her thoughts together.
This—this—was exactly why she avoided the investigation in the first place.
Mysteries demanded thinking.
Sylvia lived on impulse, instinct, and vibes. Thinking was simply too loud.
Her voice came out small, pleading:
"…Could someone please give me the full story?"
Akari sighed and began to explain.
"Let me see if I got this straight," Sylvia said slowly, words carefully assembled like fragile puzzle pieces.
"Evvls had a second sword hidden inside his soul weapon. And that sword is some cursed thing that tries to possess whoever uses it?"
She looked at each of them.
"Then, while he was trying to control it… he lost himself, blacked out, and… killed Akatsuke without even being aware of it?"
Shinto nodded. "That's basically the summary. He doesn't remember anything from that night."
Ranni crossed her arms. "And that sword is also why everyone suddenly fell asleep. It forced the alibi."
Sylvia rubbed the back of her neck—a rare gesture reserved only for moments that demanded actual thought.
"…Okay. Then… what do we do now?"
"I'd like to know the same thing."
The voice was soft, but it sliced through the silence like a cold blade.
Everyone turned.
A boy stood in the doorway.
Brown hair, messy.
Scars tracing his face like old lightning.
And eyes—once burning with grief and fury—now calm, distant, as if the world had shifted several feet away from him.
Akio.
He must've arrived moments ago, but the instant they recognized him, tension condensed into something sharp enough to cut.
Akari instinctively stepped back.
Sylvia crossed her arms, bracing as if a storm had stepped into the room.
"What can we do?" Akari murmured. "We set out to find the culprit… but we never decided what we'd do once we did."
RIIIIIIING—
The fire alarm shrieked through the hallway.
Sprinklers burst alive overhead, drenching the room as if the building itself had begun to cry.
"Right now? Seriously?" Shinto muttered.
Shinto's brow twitched with annoyance, but he said nothing more—just turning and heading for the courtyard, following protocol.
Sylvia hesitated, then followed.
Evvls and the others trailed behind.
Akari didn't move.
Water ran down her hair and clothes, turning her silhouette silver in the dim hallway lights.
Her gaze had locked onto something—something glowing faintly blue at the far end of the hall.
"Akari, you coming?" Ranni called back.
"Yeah," Akari murmured. "Just… give me a moment. Go with the others."
Ranni lingered, watching her, then reluctantly followed the others.
Akari stepped toward the light.
It was a flower.
A spider lily—glowing a soft, otherworldly blue.
She knew this phenomenon.
Flowers stained with blue radiance instead of their natural color.
Every time one appeared… It meant him.
Liebe.
And every time… something in her life changed.
The first flower tore her across the continent and awakened her magic.
The second gave her hope, revealing a path to escape the prison.
So what would a third flower bring?
Curiosity rose inside her—light, sharp, electric.
She reached for the flower.
Water slid from her fingertips and dotted the petals.
Space warped.
Her arm elongated—spiraling into the flower's core like a living ribbon.
Her fingers stretched impossibly far, body bending without pain, without sensation.
She floated in that distorted world for a brief heartbeat.
But no fear stirred in her chest.
Only familiarity.
As if she'd grown accustomed to the bizarre.
Her hand snapped back to normal.
Akari flexed her fingers. "Nothing different… That's good."
Then she looked up.
And the world stopped.
Droplets of water hung frozen in the air—tiny glass spheres suspended mid-fall.
Red moonlight refracted through them from outside, scattering crimson beams like shards of stained glass.
Time itself held its breath.
Akari stepped forward slowly.
Her footsteps echoed like soft drums in a silent cathedral.
If the Akari who first arrived in this world had seen this, she would've panicked—broken down.
But now… she found beauty in it.
Because she knew she could handle whatever came next.
"If only I had a phone…" she whispered.
She reached the courtyard.
Her soaked clothes dried instantly.
Above the prison floated a castle—vast, dark, silhouetted against the swollen red moon.
"A castle this time?"
Mana stirred within her veins, her hair rising with the force of it.
She hadn't used mana to strengthen her body for a week—not since learning to bypass the sealing bracelet.
Her soul weapon showed her the twisted, blocked pathways.
She learned to slip mana around them—wasteful but effective.
And for some reason, her mana never ran dry.
A warm, empowering sensation wrapped around her like a second skin—one of the only feelings she still possessed.
The other was what Liebe had done to her eyes.
"Oh… Oh! No way!"
She leapt—landing softly at the castle's enormous doors.
"Was he the reason…?"
The doors opened effortlessly.
Inside, green-tinted flames hovered, burning without heat or movement.
Frozen like the world below.
When Liebe touched her eyes, she gained more than vision.
She gained power.
'Was that his gift?'
She rushed through dim corridors until she reached the library.
A strange detail struck her:
every room resembled a library.
Walls smothered in monochrome books, thousands of them, as if the castle was built from memories instead of stone.
'Does he li—'
Her thought broke.
Liebe stood there.
Leaning against a shelf.
Holding a book open in one hand.
For once, he wasn't smiling.
His body was a silhouette carved from shadow—alive yet unreadable.
The air felt colder around him.
"Liebe…"
He lifted his head.
He had no eyes. No ears. No nose.
Only a mouth and hair framed the darkness of a face.
Yet he moved with the certainty of someone who lacked nothing.
His voice unfurled smoothly, eerily:
"Ah, Akari. Welcome back."
She stepped closer, steady.
"Liebe… I have a very important question."
His mouth curved—not warmly, but with a haunting, unreadable shift.
White teeth glinted faintly.
"Were you the one who awakened my soul weapon?"
Silence fell heavy.
Then:
"I was."
"You needn't thank me," Liebe continued. "It was a gift."
She exhaled; she hadn't planned to thank him anyway.
He placed the book down—open, upside down.
Then:
"I have news."
Akari straightened. "What is it?"
"The timeline has shifted. The moment for escape has moved."
A pause.
"The time is now."
Her eyes widened. "Now? Why? I should still have four months—"
"It is not your doing," he said softly. "It is… his."
'His? Seriously? Love the cryptic talk, thanks.'
"You suck," Akari muttered instinctively.
Liebe's smile widened—not offended, but amused.
"Me? Cruel words, Akari. I haven't even done anything yet."
Akari began pacing, raking her fingers through her hair.
"Well, since you sent me back early—"
She stopped and faced him.
"I'm assuming you have something helpful to say?"
Liebe, eyeless though he was, seemed to look directly at her.
"I do. You remember where the Warden's office is?"
"Yes."
"Good. The moment you leave my world, go there."
He brushed his fingers along the bookshelf, pausing before switching the positions of two books.
"For what?" Akari asked, leaning closer to peek at the one he'd been reading.
Her expression froze.
"There will be a—"
"I'm sorry," she interrupted softly. "Liebe… did you draw these?"
The page was filled with drawings.
He tilted his head. "Why, yes. Beautiful, aren't they?"
"These… are horrible."
Liebe's jaw dropped—an actual, stunned reaction.
He had asked as a joke.
He hadn't expected honesty to hit so hard.
Akari closed the book sharply.
"You may continue."
Liebe cleared his nonexistent throat.
"In the first drawer to the right, you will find a remote. It will deactivate all of your bracelets."
He paused. "You will need all of your friends for what comes."
Akari nodded, though her face reddened when she accidentally flipped open another book filled with… deeply questionable drawings.
"Uh-huh…"
"And lastly," Liebe said pleasantly, "behind the painting on the wall, you'll find an additional surprise. You will understand it when you see it."
Akari shut the book.
"You must have way too much time on your hands."
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
She started to turn but paused.
"Liebe… Do you know someone named Ataki?"
Liebe tilted his head.
"No. I don't."
Akari blinked. But before she could press further, she asked:
"…Flower, please?"
Liebe conjured a red spider lily in his hand.
She reached out and touched it.
Then everything dissolved.
When Akari opened her eyes again, everything was purple.
No—her hair was in her face.
"Right… the sprinklers."
She was drenched again.
She sprinted down the hall.
If Liebe felt the need to interrupt reality to tell her something—the situation was urgent.
She reached the Warden's office and placed a hand on the door.
"Nothing inside?"
No presence. Not even a trace.
Ken wasn't there.
She flooded mana into the locking points she remembered.
The door trembled—then unlocked.
Inside, she jumped over the desk and ripped open the drawer Liebe had described.
The remote was there.
She pocketed it.
'Next… the painting.'
She approached it.
'Wait. This is different…'
Originally, two windows stood behind the desk.
Now the portrait replaced them.
The windows had shifted to the right.
'Could it be?'
She lifted the painting—revealing a glowing handprint.
"A scanner."
She placed her hand on it, pushing mana through the internal lines. Her eyes glowed a brilliant light as she watched her mana travel the furthest it could.
The windows moved—one slid left, the other descended, then shifted again.
A hidden door revealed itself—mana radiating from its edges.
Akari placed her hand on the crease.
Creak…
Her eyes widened.
Inside was a room filled with tubes.
There were dozens—maybe hundreds.
Bodies floating in green liquid.
Children, adults, teens.
All preserved.
All unmoving.
The nearest tube made her breath stop.
"Akatsuke?"
He wasn't dead.
He was sleeping—no, hibernating.
Suspended.
Yet he was alive.
Mana pulsed faintly from his chest.
Akari stepped forward—and her hand brushed the glass.
The liquid inside rippled.