The Gremory estate garden was quiet at midnight.
I sat on the stone bench near the fountain, watching moonlight ripple across the water. The meeting had ended hours ago - Mira taken to a guest room, the peerage dispersed to process what they'd learned - but sleep wouldn't come.
Too many thoughts. Too many fears finally spoken aloud.
"You're brooding," the Fragment observed. "Again."
Processing.
"Semantics."
The fountain continued its gentle song. Somewhere in the estate, wards hummed with protective magic. Rias had doubled them after the Architect revelation, adding layers I couldn't begin to understand.
I told her everything.
"You did."
And she didn't run.
"No. She did not."
Footsteps on the garden path. Light, familiar. I didn't need to turn to know who it was.
"Couldn't sleep either?" Rias asked.
"Too much to think about."
She sat beside me on the bench, close enough that our shoulders almost touched. She'd changed from her formal clothes into something simpler - a dark sweater, loose pants. Her crimson hair was down, free of the careful styling she maintained during the day.
She looked tired. Beautiful, but tired.
"The peerage is handling it well," she said. "Kiba asked a lot of questions about the Echo system. Akeno wants to research psychological defenses. Koneko just nodded and went to find chocolate."
"And Asia?"
"Praying." A small smile. "Her faith was shaken when we told her about the Biblical God's involvement in the shattering. But she's resilient."
We sat in silence for a moment. The fountain sang. The moon watched.
"You didn't have to come out here," I said.
"No. But I wanted to." She turned to face me, her crimson eyes catching the moonlight. "We said no more secrets. That means talking. Not hiding in gardens and pretending everything's fine."
"I wasn't hiding."
"Ryder."
"Okay. Maybe I was hiding a little."
"Tell me about the Echoes," Rias said. "Not the system. Not the percentages. Tell me what it feels like."
I looked at my hands. Normal hands, human hands - except they weren't, not really. Not anymore.
"It starts small," I said. "A preference you didn't have before. A reaction that doesn't feel like yours. After fighting Dohnaseek, I started assessing everyone as a threat. Escape routes, weapons, weaknesses. Automatic."
"Combat instincts."
"His combat instincts. Layered over mine." I closed my hands into fists. "Koneko gave me chocolate once. Now I crave sweets constantly. Kiba trained with me for a week, and now my footwork mirrors his without thinking. Akeno's pain tolerance. Your strategic thinking."
"My thinking?"
"You analyze everything. People, situations, chess moves. I've started doing the same thing." I met her eyes. "I can feel pieces of you in my head, Rias. Influencing how I think. How I decide."
She was quiet for a long moment.
"And you're at thirty-eight percent now."
"Yes. Rising slowly." I took a breath. "At fifty, the Echoes become permanent. I start losing the ability to tell which thoughts are mine. At sixty, identity bleed. At seventy - "
"You stop being you."
"Maybe. The Fragment says it's more complicated than that. That integration doesn't have to mean erasure." I shook my head. "But I don't know if I trust it. I don't know if I trust myself anymore."
The words hung in the air. I'd never admitted that to anyone - not even to myself, really. The fear that had been growing since the church assault, since the Fragment woke up and started changing everything.
"I don't know which parts of me are real anymore," I said. "Which decisions are mine. Which feelings are genuine and which are just... copied. Borrowed. Stolen from people who didn't know I was taking pieces of them."
Rias reached out. Her hand found mine, fingers intertwining.
I didn't pull away.
"When I was young," she said, "my parents told me I would marry Riser Phenex."
I stiffened. We'd never talked about this - not really. Just the facts, the Rating Game, the aftermath.
"I was property," she continued. "A bargaining chip in political games I didn't understand. The Gremory heir, promised to someone who treated women like collectibles." Her voice was steady, but I could hear the old pain beneath it. "I spent years trying to escape. Finding loopholes, building my peerage, hoping for some miracle that would free me."
"And then I killed him."
"And then you killed him." She squeezed my hand. "I'm not saying it was right. Killing him after he yielded - that was murder, regardless of why. But you freed me. You did what I couldn't do for myself."
"I had help. The Echoes - "
"You made the choice." Her eyes were fierce now, determined. "You. Not the Fragment. Not borrowed instincts. You saw someone trying to claim me and you stopped them."
"I don't know if that's true."
"I do." She shifted closer, and suddenly we were face to face, her crimson eyes searching mine. "The Echoes might influence you. The Fragment might offer power at a cost. But the person who fought for me, who nearly died in that arena - that was Ryder Cross. That was you."
The conviction in her voice was staggering. After everything I'd confessed - the secrets, the stolen abilities, the pieces of other people living in my head - she still saw me.
"How can you be sure?" I asked.
"Because I know what borrowed behavior looks like. I've watched you copy combat instincts and strategic thinking and a dozen other abilities." She smiled, something warm and genuine. "But none of those copies would have sat in a garden at midnight, terrified of losing themselves, and admitted it to someone they care about."
Someone they care about.
The warmth that bloomed in my chest wasn't an Echo. Couldn't be. None of the people I'd copied felt this way - this specific feeling, this particular weight.
Is this real?
"Define real," the Fragment murmured. "You feel it. It exists. Real enough."
"You said Riser made you feel like property," I said. "Like something to be owned."
"Yes."
"I don't want that. Not ever. Whatever this is between us - " I gestured vaguely at the space between our hands, our shoulders, our faces. "I want it to be equal. Real. Not because you owe me for killing Riser. Not because the peerage bond makes you - "
"The peerage bond doesn't make me feel anything." Her voice was gentle. "That's not how it works. The connection is there, but emotions are still choices."
"Then why?"
"Why what?"
"Why are you still here? Why didn't you run when I told you about the Fragment? About the Echoes? About being a target for an ancient conspiracy?" I pulled my hand back, not from rejection but from confusion. "I might not be safe to be around, Rias. The Restoration is hunting me. The Watcher is watching. Anyone close to me is in danger."
She laughed. Actually laughed - a warm sound that shattered the tension like sunlight through clouds.
"Ryder. I'm a devil. A King. I've fought Rating Games and stray devils and fallen angels. Safety was never the goal."
"That's not - "
"It's exactly the point." She reclaimed my hand, holding it firmly. "I don't want safe. I want real. I want someone who sees me as more than the Gremory heir. Who fights beside me instead of for me. Who trusts me with their darkest secrets instead of hiding behind pretty lies."
"I lied to you for months."
"And now you're not." Her thumb traced circles on my palm. "That's what matters. Not the past. The now."
We sat in silence for a long time.
The moon continued its journey across the sky. The fountain sang its endless song. And slowly, something shifted in my chest - a loosening of tension I hadn't known I was carrying.
She knows everything. And she's still here.
"Interesting," the Fragment observed. "The bond strengthens. This affects the Echo."
What do you mean?
"Strong emotional connections accelerate integration. At this rate, forty-five percent approaches faster than anticipated."
I should have been alarmed. The Fragment was telling me that caring for Rias - letting her care for me - was pushing me closer to the threshold. Closer to losing myself.
But when I looked at her, sitting beside me in the moonlight, I couldn't bring myself to pull away.
Does it matter?
"Define 'matter.'"
If the feelings are real - if this is genuinely mine and not an Echo - then accelerating integration might be worth it. Might be the price of actually living instead of just surviving.
The Fragment was quiet for a moment.
"You are becoming more comfortable with costs. I am unsure if this is wisdom or foolishness."
Both, probably.
"How very mortal of you."
"We need to talk about us," Rias said finally. "About what happens next."
"I know."
"The promise we made at Chapter 20. Before the Rating Game."
I remembered. The rooftop conversation that felt like a lifetime ago. Not yet. But after.
"I meant it then," I said. "And I mean it now. I care about you, Rias. Genuinely. But I don't know who I am anymore. Not completely." I turned to face her fully. "Until I figure that out - until I can be sure which parts of me are real - I can't ask you for more than this."
"Than what?"
"Partnership. Trust. Honesty." I squeezed her hand. "I need to know myself before I can give myself to someone else. That's not fair to you otherwise."
"It's not fair to either of us." She smiled, and there was something bittersweet in it. "But it's honest. That's more than most people give."
"So we wait?"
"We wait." She leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead - the same gesture from yesterday, but somehow more intimate now. "When this is over. When you know who you are. Ask me again."
She didn't say what I should ask.
She didn't need to.
The next morning, the peerage gathered for breakfast.
Mira appeared at the doorway, hesitant. She'd changed into borrowed clothes - Akeno's, by the look of them - and her usual guarded expression seemed softer in the morning light.
"Join us," Rias said, gesturing to an empty seat.
"I don't want to intrude - "
"You're under Gremory protection. That means you eat with us." Rias's tone left no room for argument. "Besides, we need to discuss our alliance properly."
Mira sat. Carefully, deliberately, keeping her gloved hands visible on the table. Asia passed her a plate of toast with a kind smile. Koneko pushed a bowl of fruit in her direction without looking up from her own breakfast.
Small gestures. Welcoming ones.
"The Restoration wants both of us," Mira said. "The Core and the Sixth. Safer together."
"Agreed," Rias said. "You'll stay in Kuoh under protection. We'll coordinate patrols, share information, prepare for whatever comes next."
"And if they attack?"
"Then we fight together." I met Mira's eyes across the table. "No one else dies because of what we carry. Not if we can help it."
Something flickered in her expression. Not quite trust, but... hope. The beginning of hope.
"I haven't had allies in three years," she said quietly.
"You have them now," Akeno said, setting a cup of tea before her. "Ara ara, such a serious atmosphere. We should be celebrating."
"Celebrating what?"
"New friends. New alliances. The continued existence of everyone at this table." She smiled her knowing smile. "Small victories are still victories."
Even Mira almost smiled at that.
After breakfast, I found myself alone with my thoughts again.
The others had dispersed - training, patrol, the endless work of protecting Kuoh. Mira had gone with Kiba, who wanted to discuss combat coordination. Rias was in her office, already buried in political correspondence.
I stood at the window, watching the morning light spread across the estate grounds.
I care about her. That's real.
The warmth from last night hadn't faded. If anything, it had grown stronger - a steady flame instead of a fleeting spark.
But is it mine?
I thought about the Echo moment from the garden. The feeling that had bloomed when Rias said "someone they care about." It had felt genuine. Earned. Not copied from anyone else.
But how could I be sure?
"You cannot," the Fragment said. "Certainty is a mortal illusion. All you can do is choose what to protect and commit to protecting it."
And if the feelings aren't real?
"Then you will protect them anyway. Because that is who you choose to be."
The logic was almost comforting. Whatever I felt for Rias - whether it was genuine emotion or some complex combination of Echoes and instinct - I would protect it. Her. Them.
That decision, at least, was mine.
One more thing to fight for.
One more reason to survive whatever was coming.
The Fragment noted the bond's strength and said nothing. Some things didn't need commentary.