As the spirit spoke, the sky began to weep. Skulls crumbled into ash, until only bare gray stone remained. The penance was finished. Guilt had been crucified and buried, and from its ashes a new girl rose—whole at last.

  The spirit walked toward its own body. With a touch, the restraints fell away.

  “Arkmarschall, may I close my brain now?”

  Her physical body’s brain still lay exposed, and she wished to seal it.

  “You may.”

  She raised her hand. The needles piercing her brain lifted one by one. Bone reformed, silver hair cascaded anew. She willed her unconscious body upright, lifting it with unseen force. Holding it before her, the spirit mimed an embrace, arms circling air as if flesh and spirit could meet. She lowered her face and pressed an illusory kiss to its lips. Then the spirit began to dissolve, breaking apart into a thousand Silverveil Blooms that scattered into the air.

  But as the spirit began to return to her own realm, Lina saw it: among Vierna’s silver strands, a stark streak of black appeared. And below her right eye, a peculiar pattern emerged.

  “Arkmarschall…” Halwen said.

  Leopold’s usual calm expression faltered as he witnessed the change. He studied the mark at Vierna’s right eye. On closer inspection, it wasn’t a simple pattern but a runic design, coiling like a serpent from her cheek to the edge of her eye. When he brushed her hair aside, he saw the same pattern hidden beneath. It looked etched into her flesh—an instant manifestation from the spirit’s departure.

  Then he noticed the streak of black threading through her silver hair—an inversion that marked her as something different, even among Faintborn.

  “This is…” Halwen muttered.

  “Halwen,” Leopold said, his tone clipped, “I need all our documents on the Kagemori.”

  Halwen frowned. “But… has she really become one?”

  Leopold tried to wipe the mark from Vierna’s face, but it didn’t budge. It was as if the ink had fused with her skin. “There’s no way a body could conjure a mark like that instantly. Besides, this particular pattern really matches the descriptions of Kagemori.”

  “I thought they said only those of the chosen blood, sanctified by the gods of Tsukiyama, could become Kagemori.”

  “That would mean Tsukiyama’s legend was only a myth after all,” Leopold replied. “She does bear their physical trait, but I won’t assume anything until the tests are done.”

  Halwen move closer to Vierna, then he observed the mark. “If she really has become one, they won’t stay quiet. Arkmarschall, perhaps we should reconsider her place in Ewige Schlange.”

  “No, cover her marks and dye her black streak hair. Castavell demands more of our attention than Tsukiyama.”

  “But what exactly did we do differently? If the only requirement were a hard childhood or trauma, the Reich would already be filled with Kagemori.”

  Leopold’s expression stayed the same. Cold and unreadable. “We’ve performed so many procedures on Vierna that we’ll need time to analyze which one caused this development. We can’t just assume that the memory-reading procedure was the only factor responsible. List everything we’ve done to Vierna so far. Once our knowledge about the Kagemori has been properly documented, we can compare which procedures share similarities with what Tsukiyama did.”

  Halwen quickly took out his journal and started listing everything he needed to do once this was over.

  “There are also degrees we need to quantify,” Leopold continued. “We must determine whether Vierna is a fully fledged Kagemori, or if she possesses only a fraction of their ability.”

  Halwen nodded. “Then how should we proceed, Arkmarschall?”

  “For now, have our spies gather information on Kagemori. It would be optimal if they could infiltrate Tsukiyama’s Grand Archive but don’t risk it. As for Vierna, she will have to learn about her new power on her own. We can only nudge her in certain directions. But right now, she is probably the only one with a clear picture of what’s happening to her body.”

  “We could try using the Spirit Peering test on her.” Halwen’s gaze shifted back to the unconscious Vierna.

  “Unapproved. Using common methods on an uncommon condition invites disaster. We will assess the situation further after we obtain more information—not before.”

  “Understood, Arkmarschall.”

  Leopold did not respond. Instead, he turned to Lina, who had been watching her friend from a distance. “Lina. Your discretion is essential. Under no circumstances does this leave this room.”

  Lina nodded, still unsure what had happened to Vierna. Her eyes lingered instead on the black streak in her silver hair. The runic serpent coiled around her eye lent her beauty a dangerous edge, strange and arresting all at once.

  Then Leopold turned back to Halwen. “Make Albrecht come here today. He’s the only one who has met the Kagemori directly.”

  “Of course, Arkmarschall. I’ll make the arrangements.”

  “Good.”

  As Leopold spoke, the mountain scenery faded, pulling them back into the experiment chamber.

  “Let Vierna rest for two hours. We press on with identification as soon as Albrecht arrives. With luck, her block will have resolved by then.” Leopold’s gaze sharpened. “I also want a full update on her condition—mana profile, spirit stability, cognitive function, and physical strain.”

  “Understood, Arkmarschall.”

  Leopold turned toward the door. He looks towards Lina, “You’re doing the right thing.”

  Lina nodded. Leopold continued on, his cloak brushing the floor as he left the chamber, leaving only Halwen and Lina with Vierna.

  Halwen adjusted his notes. “I need to prepare the next experiment. Vierna can stay here for a while.” His eyes lifted to Lina. “What do you want to do?”

  “I’ll watch her, Uncle. Is that all right?”

  “Of course.”

  As Halwen went for the door too, he stopped.

  “Lina?”

  “Yes, Uncle?”

  Halwen’s voice softened. “I know you only said those words so Vierna wouldn’t fall apart. And you did the right thing. Sometimes the truth is better kept for later. There will be a time when you can tell her that her mother truly did love her. But right now… she needed comfort more than truth.”

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  Lina hesitated. “But… the Arkmarschall’s explanation made sense.”

  “People aren’t like that.” Halwen shook his head gently “Humans aren’t perfect, and neither is love. One day you’ll see his view was too harsh. It isn’t always that way.”

  “…If you say so, Uncle.”

  “Good. Now I’ll be on my way.”

  Halwen gave her a small smile, then left the room, leaving Lina alone at Vierna’s side.

  Lina looked at her friend, still unconscious after the ordeal her mind had dragged her through. To think someone so small, so fragile, could endure a pain so deep it forced her very spirit into the physical realm—it felt unreal.

  Her father murdered and desecrated. Hunted by a pedophile. Abandoned by her mother. And then everything she was forced to witness in the projection—it was too much. Far too much for someone gentler than anyone Lina had ever known.

  Tears welled in Lina’s eyes, but she blinked them back. The time for crying had passed. Now, only action mattered.

  Her laughter had always been a mask, hiding everything she truly felt. Just how much had Lina ever really known Vierna?

  She swore then she would show her what true love meant. But where could she begin? How could she keep such a promise? Would she even be able to?

  There was only one way to find out. Wherever Vierna was, Lina would be there. That, she decided, was the only path forward.

  Lina brushed Vierna’s hair, her conscious, however, was somewhere else.

  Somewhere deep.

  She woke up and found herself in a landscape that resembled mountains. Clouds rose like pillars holding up the sky, and on them hung picture frames—yet none held any pictures. It was daytime, but no sun shone; the light came from nowhere she could see. The sky was a clear blue, and the wind blew in one direction, gentle as the flap of an eagle’s wing.

  All around her stretched greenery as far as her eyes could see—no flowers, no trees, only endless grass. She walked forward, wondering where she was.

  She remembered this place. One day after school, her father had taken her somewhere that looked like this. Vierna had enjoyed the scenery as they walked together. After everything she had seen in her memories, only now did she realize how much she needed this—a calm, familiar landscape from when everything was still normal, when her Sun shone above and the Eagle kept her safe.

  As she walked deeper, still unsure where she was, the wind changed. It came from every direction, biting her skin and lingering where it shouldn’t. The sky grew darker until it looked like night, a full moon hanging above, shining its light onto one specific spot. The hanging picture frames began to fill, but the images inside were blurred, unrecognizable. The greenery faded, and in its place silver flowers rose—flowers she knew all too well.

  At the edge of the mountain, she found a small figure—wounded, but not bleeding. The figure sketched silently, drawing for one of the hanging frames. Vierna sat beside her without a word. The figure was so absorbed in her work that she didn’t notice another presence until the drawing was finished.

  “What do you think?” the figure asked, holding up the frame.

  Vierna looked. It was a picture of Lina. But not the Lina she knew—no mask, no scar. Instead, her features glowed with a strange blend of her natural tones and a faint yellow shimmer, like sunlight woven into fire.

  Vierna inspected the painting. “It’s lovely. But… you’ve mistaken her face. She was scarred.”

  “Scar?” The white figure tilted her head. “I didn’t see any scar back then.”

  “How can you forget it?” Vierna pressed.

  “She didn’t look scarred when I saw her,” the figure answered simply.

  “No—Lina’s face was scarred after the Grace experiment. She even showed me.”

  “SHE WASN’T SCARRED!” the figure snapped. Her voice echoed, shaking the air as the moon bled vermilion. “You’re the one who’s scarred! She was perfect!”

  Despite the trembling ground and shifting sky, Vierna saw it clearly: this spirit wasn’t a monster. It was like a child—furious, protective, desperate to defend its idol. Angering it would be unwise.

  “You’re right,” Her voice was somber and sincere “I’m sorry. Lina was perfect.”

  At once, the scenery stilled. The moon paled, the air grew serene again. The figure giggled. “Hehe. Isn’t that right? I love Lina so much.”

  “I love her too,” Vierna replied.

  Vierna froze. She realized it now—this being was her spirit, carrying its own personality. It looked like a younger version of herself, raw and far more emotional. She remembered that Halwen said, spirit was the one doing the magic, and that spirit was like a different being tangled up together with you, but seeing that directly was a little bit odd.

  “But she confessed to me, not to you. And I’m not sharing her,” the figure said with a pout.

  “You are me. Why would it count as sharing?”

  “No,” the figure insisted, eyes burning. “I am me. And you are you.”

  The spirit let her painting fly, and it settled into one of the frames in the sky. Then she sat down, gazing upward.

  “Hey…” Vierna called to the spirit.

  “Hmm?”

  “Thank you for everything.”

  “Don’t thank me. I just patch you up when you break. Can’t have you falling apart all the time.”

  “I know. It must be hard, keeping that away from me.”

  “It was annoying! Especially when you tried to remember that.” The spirit swung her legs idly. “And when that scary needle pierced you, this place was in shambles. Do you know how tiring it was to keep repairing it? You have to pay me back!”

  Vierna tilted her head. “Haha, I know, I know. I’m sorry, okay. And what do you mean by pay you back? This is your home, right? Doesn’t that count as you repairing your own place?”

  “Hey, without this place, you’d be like those drooling test subjects, you know? I want payback, or I’ll just go to sleep.”

  “Alright, alright.”

  So this is how people look at me when I have those moments? Must be the spirit doing it.

  “I can read your mind, you know! It was you, don’t blame that on me. I’m just an innocent spirit being enslaved by my own body to keep this place from falling apart.

  Ahhh, I can’t stand you, I’m going away!” The spirit stomped off toward a shack-like structure, but as she walked she peeked back at Vierna, as if daring her to follow.

  “Come on, don’t be like that. If I become a drooling mess, we won’t be able to annoy Lina anymore, you know?”

  The spirit stopped. “Ahhh, I don’t want that! Ugh, you’re such a meanie! And to think I’m you—that’s a pain in the ass!”

  “Haha, well, nothing can be done about that.” Vierna laughed. “Alright, so we have to live with each other. What do you actually want?”

  “Hmmm.” The spirit pondered. “I’ve been stuck here, watching you make stupid decisions one after another! You need to let me steer the ship sometimes.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “Change places with me every now and then.”

  “But you are me, and I am you. How do I swap my own consciousness with my spirit? Do you even know how?”

  “Don’t ask me! It’s because you slacked off on your studies that we don’t know what to do.”

  “Well, since I can’t exactly do that, what else do you want?”

  “Do more magic!”

  “Why?”

  “Well, when you do magic, I actually have something to do instead of staring at clouds all day. Magic is the spirit’s action, you know. Don’t you remember what Herr Halwen said? Why are you so forgetful? What are you going to do when Lina finally asks me to marry her and drags me out of this miserable place?”

  “Aaagh, stop yapping! I still remember that, sheesh.” Vierna complained, realizing this must be how other people felt whenever she went off on a tangent. “Alright, more magic. And I’ll try to figure out that thing you mentioned.”

  “Hehe, see? Wasn’t that hard?” The spirit nodded as if she’d won a battle. “Anyway, I’m tired of your face. You should get up immediately.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “Well, I can wake you up. Do you want me to do it now?”

  “Hold on,” Vierna said. “Do you have a name?”

  “It’s Vierna. The Arkmarschall gave it to me, not you.”

  “Yeah, but that’s what people call me on the outside. They can’t even see you, so I win on that front.”

  “Ahhhh, but I want to be Vierna. You can go back to being Alice or something.”

  “No can do. We both hate that name. You want Lina calling me—us—Alice all the time?”

  “No…”

  “And I’m having a hard time calling you Vierna too.”

  “But I want to be Vierna…” The spirit looked down at the floor.

  “Moony!”

  The spirit tilted its head. “What?”

  “The name Matron Elra gave us,” she said. “Besides, you’re the one obsessed with the moon, right?”

  “I’m not Moony!” The spirit pouted again. “I’m a proper lady, and that name feels like a child’s joke.”

  She stomped her feet over and over, throwing another fit.

  “Either that or I’ll tell Lina I’m Moony from now on. You can enjoy her calling us that every time.”

  “You’re a bully, you know! This is why people don’t like you!”

  “Hey! Don’t say things that hurt us both!”

  The spirit stuck out her tongue. “Alright, alright… you can call me Moony. It was the name the Matron gave, after all. And it’s for me, not for you… Nameless!”

  Vierna laughed. Teasing her own spirit was strange, but watching her pout and throw another fit was still amusing. “Haha… whatever you say, Moony.”

  The spirit smiled. The moonlight shifted, shining down on Vierna.

  “Vierna…”

  “Yes?”

  “Please drop by here more often…”

  “Why? You gonna miss me?”

  “No. It’s so you can see what a mess this place is. Honestly, you’re lucky to have me around, and I’m cursed to have you steering this body!”

  “Haha, alright. Until next time.”

  “Until next time.”

  As Vierna’s consciousness slipped away, the spirit looked up at the sky, as if trying to follow her master’s departing warmth, her gaze trembling between pride and loneliness.