The blue sword atop the fountain flickered. Its handle resembled an eight-pointed star, the blade curved like a katana. The woman standing below it held her head in her palms, staring bare into Simon's soul.
"Hello, you may call me Nocturne." She murmured in an English accent.
Simon didn't respond at first, captivated by the beautiful sword. His attention was far away from Nocturne; at first, he didn't fully realize she was there.
That was until a sharp pain in the back of Simon's head pulled his attention back. He looked between the two tortuously slow, trying to determine if someone of her posture could lift such a sword.
"Please, I do not wish to fight, Simon. If you try to fight me, I may have no choice but to kill you; your memories are a grave threat to me."
"..."
Simon still didn't respond.
(I never told her my name...)
There was still a chance that the sword above her, whatever it was, didn't belong to her. But either way, Simon could tell she was inside his head.
"And what reason do you have not to kill me?"
"The Crest Family is with no doubt of high power. Killing you would only send those fiends after us."
(Typical.)
"Us? Who is 'us'?"
"You must be aware of the answer, Simon."
Of course, he knew, but to blindly follow someone without knowing the truth was like chasing after a deer in headlights.
She was a part of Project Icarus, whether it be a member of their main circle or some type of informant.
"Rest assured, we do wish to collaborate with you."
How stale, wouldn't you say? Although now I understand both sides of this gamble, I cannot imagine what that woman was thinking when she did this. I'm sure you can try, but it is inconceivable to me.
My, how funny you humans are.
"Simon, please inform me. If you were to stumble upon a dying man here, what would you do?"
Upon hearing this, Simon was calm, but let his thoughts go rampant. He did this to distract his mind, so she wouldn't budge the real answer out of him. Although he couldn't explain how her ability worked, he had a good idea.
(If she reads my thoughts, it'll no doubt expend the amount of spiritual energy she uses I doubt she'll attempt to read my thoughts until after I answer. Not only will it hurt more if she is constantly reading them, but she could die from it.)
Deep down, he knew the real answer. But it was hard to make out with all of the nonsense spilling into his brain.
"I would save them. They deserve freedom."
(The best lies are partial truths after all.)
"...Nnnn"
Nocturne groaned before grasping her forehead as a sharp pain hit her. Simon had guessed correctly, and he smiled inwardly at this. In this game of chess, she was just a pawn who saw herself as a queen.
The sword above her head flickered, and so did her eyes. Not in and out of focus, but instead they became white, before settling back to their original bronze color.
"I see... I unfortunately do not value compassion. Nor do I value liars." She said whilst breathing heavily.
"Sigh. Can't blame me for trying."
Even still, he knew a single limit to her Signature now. Attempting to lie was the best move he could've made; anything else would be useless. But now, he knew he had no reason to lie to her.
What use was lying if they showed the same morals?
"I'd put them out of their misery. A dying man just creates more obstacles. I don't care if he'll help out in the end; it's not methodical."
"Haha. You are certainly wicked, Simon. To think that is your idea of saving another."
I would say it is, wouldn't you? Of course, my warrior half would agree with Simon here. Whether it is to die in the way of the blade and on the battlefield, or to give them a quick death. If they didn't wish to die, then why would they gamble with their life in the first place?
Maybe it is to protect others? Possibly to achieve something? Whichever one it is, whether it be the prior or the latter — neither one will succeed if you die. I believe this is why my master cared about the method used to get to an outcome so gravely.
If the outcome resulted in him having a disadvantage, why would he take it? Master would lose more than he would gain, possibly lose his life for the information he possessed alone.
...My mind is wandering again, isn't it? Sorry, it tends to happen from time to time.
Nocturne finally stood up from the fountain, noting that Simon had missed one grave detail.
"My face, you see it clearly, don't you?"
"Yes?"
Nocturne didn't say anything else after that. She knew Simon was smart; he would come up with the answer eventually. In fact, this didn't take long for him to realize.
She did not have a mask on, one of the deepest signs of trust for a Bedeviled.
"To hide behind a mask and believe you are safe only serves to make others want to crack it more. No matter your personification, they will automatically assume the words that spill from your mouth are nothing but lies."
As Nocturne said this, she ultimately stopped in front of Simon, hands behind her back.
"People who hide behind masks have no fear in what they do or say, as they believe they will have no consequences for their actions. After all, if they do not know your identity, what reason do they have to fear for themselves? We at Project Icarus deny this claim. A face, your true face, that is trust."
She possessed an eerie smile that went from ear to ear. However, her eyes did not show a hint of emotion, almost as if she were a corpse. Simon paid no attention to this, however; instead, he chuckled to himself.
(Is she crazy? Trust just makes it easier to lie. Both are dumb; either way, you can manipulate and deceive as you wish.)
"Okay... I hear you. What do you people want from me anyway?"
Nocturne raised a finger, tapping the middle of Simon's forehead.
"Kill Elliot Grayson."