In one of the dimly lit, cavernous halls of the Witch Cult's hidden sanctum, moonlight spilled through tall, stained-glass windows, casting ethereal, shifting patterns upon the ancient stone floor. The quiet rustle of robes and the occasional distant echo were the only sounds, swallowed quickly by the oppressive silence. Pandora sat in dignified repose upon a throne-like chair carved from obsidian and bone, the air around her thick with a strange, tranquil pressure. Her delicate hands rested gently on the armrests, and her gaze—calm, penetrating, and inescapable—bore down on the three figures kneeling before her: Regulus Corneas, Capella Emerada Lugnica, and Lucas Veilhart.
The weight of her presence was palpable, a quiet but unrelenting force that pressed down on everyone in the room. A long silence stretched between them, as if even time hesitated under her gaze. Then, with a faint sigh—a sound too soft to be a reprimand yet too sharp to be indifference—Pandora exhaled, gently fracturing the tension in the air.
Regulus stood with his arms crossed, face sculpted into an expression of disdainful boredom, as if the situation before him were beneath his concern. Capella and Lucas, however, knelt with heads bowed, avoiding eye contact at all costs. They were like wild animals in the presence of something far more dangerous than themselves.
"All of you," Pandora began, her voice carrying a soft cadence, crystalline yet devoid of warmth, "have failed the task I entrusted to you."
She let her words linger for a heartbeat before continuing, her tone steady and dispassionate. "Lucas. We shall begin with you. Tell me what happened. Spare no detail."
Lucas flinched slightly at the sound of his name. The man who once boasted a proud, arrogant composure was gone—now, only a trembling shell remained, his shoulders hunched as though trying to shrink from view. When he finally spoke, his voice was hushed, laced with both reverence and dread.
"Pandora-sama... As per your command, I intercepted the convoy at the designated point. I made myself visible to them once they halted. My goal was to intimidate and force them to retreat, regardless of resistance. But... one of them—he claimed to be the 'Archbishop of Envy'—stood against me. He was not part of the original roster. I sensed something unusual about him immediately, but I underestimated the threat. I should have acted more cautiously."
He swallowed, audibly. "I cast a sequence of containment spells, but they dissolved the moment they touched him. My mana began to drain away, like water through a sieve. His presence disrupted my flow of energy. It was as if he... siphoned the very essence of my spells. I invoked the Authority of Pride in desperation, hoping to overwhelm him. But something... something suppressed me. It was like a wall within my soul, an invisible hand pressing me down. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't even maintain the connection. It was as if... I was being erased."
He paused to collect himself, trembling. "Before I knew it, I had collapsed. I failed in both power and judgment. I accept full responsibility, Pandora-sama. I... I am sorry."
Pandora remained still. Her porcelain-like expression betrayed nothing. Only her eyes moved—focused, glimmering faintly with the hint of something ancient and cold.
"You mentioned the Archbishop of Envy" she said after a moment. "Do you know his name?"
Lucas lowered his head further, pressing his forehead nearly to the ground. "Yes, Pandora-sama. He... he identified himself as Natsuki Subaru."
A shimmer of unreadable emotion passed through Pandora's eyes—gone as quickly as it came. The silence returned, heavier than before, as if the very air resisted movement. Then, with a soft nod, she shifted her attention to the other two.
"Now it's your turn. Regulus," she said, her voice as calm as before. "Speak."
Regulus gave a lazy shrug and straightened with theatrical flair. "As you instructed, I took the girl. There were no issues during the initial phase. She was scared, but not difficult. I kept her unconscious most of the time. It was cleaner that way. Efficient. We made good progress toward the Black Forest. But then... something strange happened."
He waved his hand dismissively. "This streak of golden-yellow light passed overhead. It was brief, barely a flash. It didn't hurt me, so I ignored it. I mean, why should I care? I am, as always, unblemished. Perfect. But when I reached the edge of the forest, I encountered a man. He matched the description Lucas just gave. He looked... insignificant. In every way. I told him to step aside—gave him a chance to survive, to bask in my mercy."
Regulus sneered. "And how did he respond? With treachery. The little wretch attacked me—from behind! An outrageous violation of my rights. Naturally, I retaliated. I hurled him into a tree. I was going to end it right there. But then..."
He narrowed his eyes. "Something happened. He changed. His hair, his aura, even his eyes—everything about him transformed in an instant. I no longer recognized him. It was as if another entity took over. And the power... it was vast. Chaotic. Ancient. He threw me—me!—again and again, like a rag doll. I barely kept up. At last, I launched him upward, far beyond the clouds. But even that wasn't enough. Somehow, he shattered my Authority. Cracked it like glass. Then he hit me... with one final strike. A blow that launched me across the landscape like a leaf in a storm."
Regulus exhaled in frustration, his ego clearly wounded. "By the time I returned to the scene, everyone had vanished. I sent a report and returned to my wives. I've had more than enough of these infractions against my person. My patience is not infinite, you know."
Pandora tilted her head as she listened, giving no indication of surprise or irritation. She had long known the truth of Flugel's presence within Natsuki Subaru. There was no need to interrogate Regulus further.
Instead, she sat in thoughtful silence, allowing the weight of the revelations to settle into the stones of the chamber like a curse long remembered.
Pandora turned to Capella at last. Her gaze, cold and unblinking, held a sharpness that seemed to cut through the very air. It was the kind of look that demanded answers—and permitted no deceit.
"Regulus was escaping," she said, her voice calm but laced with an edge of ice. "You were assigned to stop him. Yet you did nothing. Why?"
Capella trembled under her stare. Her usually confident demeanor was nowhere to be seen. She hesitated before answering, her voice subdued and frail, as though reliving the trauma with each word.
"The spells he used... they weren't normal. They didn't just injure the body; they seeped into the soul. His final incantation imprisoned me inside a crystalline structure. I kept regenerating endlessly, but the prison didn't break. The mana infused within that crystal was unnatural, chaotic. It twisted and corroded me. I was trapped in a cycle—dying, decaying, healing, and dying again. It was agony... and it was inescapable."
A heavy silence followed her words, thick enough to choke on. Pandora did not speak immediately. Her expression remained unreadable, but her eyes glinted with skepticism. She clearly wasn't convinced by Capella's account.
After a long pause, she finally spoke, her voice low and deliberate.
"Then it would seem that this 'Natsuki Subaru' is far more formidable than we originally believed."
She turned her gaze toward the dim ceiling, as if searching the future for answers that hadn't yet been written.
"Still," she continued, "no flame burns forever. Every soul, no matter how bright, must eventually fade. We must ensure that we are prepared when his light begins to dim."
The echo of her words lingered in the hall, casting a chilling stillness over the room. None of the gathered Archbishops dared to speak. Pandora's mind had already moved beyond them, contemplating battles yet to be fought.
She turned slowly, her voice dropping to a near-whisper.
"At the very least," she murmured, almost to herself, "some among you still remember what it means to fulfill a duty."
Her attention drifted toward the looming doors at the end of the hall. As if in answer to her unspoken cue, the great wooden doors creaked open. The sound echoed eerily through the chamber.
Two figures entered in near silence, their grey robes flowing like mist behind them. They moved with unnatural grace, as though their feet barely touched the ground. It was Lye Batenkaitos, Archbishop of Gluttony, and Petelgeuse Romanée-Conti, Archbishop of Sloth.
Their entrance was like a breeze passing through a graveyard. The room grew colder.
They advanced until they reached the center of the chamber, then dropped to one knee before Pandora in perfect synchronicity. Heads bowed low, they awaited her acknowledgment.
Lye rose slightly, just enough to speak clearly, his voice devoid of emotion but precise.
"Pandora-sama. As per your instructions, I manipulated the White Whale's path by releasing distortion fields at key points. Its trajectory veered from our zones of interest, leaving your intended targets unscathed."
Petelgeuse, meanwhile, looked up with eyes that shone with frenzied reverence. His hands were clasped tightly together as though in prayer.
"Ahh, most divine Witch-sama! With the aid of my Ten Fingers—your most devoted acolytes—I have successfully seized control over the demon beasts in the region. They now march to the rhythm of your will. I live only to serve your glory. Command me, and I shall offer even my final breath!"
Pandora studied the two of them in silence. Her expression betrayed neither satisfaction nor displeasure. And then, with a graceful motion, she brought her hands together and gave a gentle clap. The sound was soft, but in that stillness, it might as well have been thunder.
"Well done. Both of you. You were the first to complete your tasks. You have demonstrated both competence and loyalty—qualities that are... increasingly rare."
A flicker of pride passed over Petelgeuse's face. He turned ever so slightly, casting a sidelong glance toward the other Archbishops who stood silent and brooding.
"Oh? So we were the first? Then what of the rest of you? Slackers? Failures? Or just... irrelevant? Perhaps you're simply too incompetent to be of use to our sacred cause."
His voice dripped with mockery, thinly veiled beneath a layer of glee.
The reaction was immediate. Regulus's expression twisted with fury, and he shot forward a step, barely restraining the urge to lash out.
"You dare mock me? Don't let your insignificant triumph delude you into thinking you're superior! The tasks I was given demanded a greatness you can't begin to comprehend. They were tailored to a being of my magnificence! That I failed in just one of them is not a stain—it is a testament to how monumental those tasks were! You worm! You walking abomination! How dare you speak to me in such a tone!"
The air between them sparked with tension. A single wrong word, and they would explode into violence. But just as the room reached its breaking point, Pandora's voice rang out.
"Enough. This quarreling serves no purpose."
Her tone was firm now, commanding. She didn't raise her voice, but it echoed all the same. All movement ceased. All eyes turned back to her.
"There will be time for vindication, for each of you to prove your worth once more. But that moment is not now. At present, my thoughts are focused elsewhere."
Her voice dropped to a whisper again, but it carried with it the weight of finality. No one dared speak further.
And so, in that solemn hall, surrounded by shadows and schemes, Pandora looked onward—to battles yet to come, and a fate slowly taking shape in the dark.
Her gaze, slow and deliberate, shifted toward Lucas. The young Archbishop, already tense, flinched slightly as her attention landed on him like the tip of a dagger. For a moment, he hesitated, but then he cautiously lifted his eyes to meet hers, the flickering torches along the walls casting strange, wavering shadows across his face.
"Lucas," Pandora spoke, her voice soft yet commanding, carrying an eerie clarity that cut through the air like silk over steel. "I have a new task for you."
The words struck him like a lifeline. Instantly, Lucas straightened on his knees, shoulders squared and chin raised. The humiliation of his previous failure still haunted his mind, but this—this was an opportunity. A chance to prove himself. To atone. The glow in his eyes, however faint, reflected that fragile hope.
"Yes, Pandora-sama!" he answered without delay, voice trembling with urgency. "What are your orders?"
Pandora raised her right hand slowly, deliberately. Her movement was smooth, calculated. A faint glimmer of obsidian shimmered at the tip of her elegant, claw-like nail, catching the low light. The brief sparkle painted a haunting pattern on the floor, a fleeting sigil in the dark.
"Do you remember the half-elf girl? The one chosen as a royal candidate. Emilia. I want her. Capture her and bring her to me alive. I don't care how you do it, or what you have to sacrifice. But she must not be harmed. Her body must remain intact. That girl... she is the perfect vessel. For the Witch of Envy."
Her voice lingered on the final words, carrying the weight of prophecy, of inevitability. Lucas bowed his head even lower, pressing his forehead to the cold stone floor, his heart thundering in his chest.
"Understood, Pandora-sama," he said solemnly, as though the gravity of her command carved itself into his bones. "With your permission, I shall depart imme—"
He was interrupted as Pandora raised her hand once again, palm open toward him. The simple gesture brought his voice to a halt, his breath catching in his throat.
"No. Not yet. You will not begin this mission immediately," she stated. Her tone was neither stern nor gentle—just final. "You are to begin in four months. Use this time wisely. Train. Reflect. Strengthen every part of yourself—mind, body, soul. Refine your Authority until it can no longer be stripped from you. Let this time temper you into a weapon worthy of the task."
Her eyes narrowed, glinting like polished obsidian beneath a moonless sky.
"And you will not go alone. This task is not for a novice to undertake by himself. You need someone experienced. Someone who has seen failure and returned from it."
Her gaze shifted past Lucas, piercing through the shadows that clung to the edges of the room.
"Lye."
A figure emerged slightly from the gloom—Lye Batenkaitos, the Sin Archbishop of Gluttony. He had remained silent until now, leaning with casual indifference against one of the black stone pillars, his pale hair reflecting just enough light to make him visible.
He sighed, a long and theatrical exhale that broke the silence like a dagger across silk.
"Ah... I had a feeling you'd pull me into this," he muttered, not in defiance, but in resigned amusement. His mismatched eyes flicked toward Lucas, studying the younger Archbishop like a predator sizing up a cub. Then, slowly, he stepped forward and bowed his head.
"If that is your will, Pandora-sama," he said, his voice taking on a solemn timbre. "I will take responsibility for the novice. You have my word."
Pandora offered a smile—not one of warmth, but of grim satisfaction. It was a smile that knew things others did not. A smile with edges.
"Good," she said. "Then it's settled. Prepare yourselves. When the time comes, I expect nothing less than perfection. May your success stand as a beacon... and a warning. To those who have failed."
Her final words echoed through the obsidian chamber, resonating across the cold stone like the toll of a distant bell. They lingered long after her voice had faded, leaving an oppressive hush in their wake. Slowly, the gathered figures began to recede into the shadows, one by one vanishing as though swallowed by the gloom itself.
Thus ended yet another meeting within the forbidden depths of the Witch Cult. A meeting that marked not only the beginning of a dangerous mission—but the stirring of ancient forces that even Pandora herself watched with caution.
It was still early morning, that quiet time when the world holds its breath between night and dawn, when Hikari stirred from her sleep. As always, she was the first to wake. Her eyes fluttered open slowly, adjusting to the soft light spilling in through the window. The air was cool, and everything around her was still.
The moment her gaze settled on Subaru sleeping peacefully beside her, a gentle warmth bloomed in her chest. He looked so calm, so unlike the Subaru who always wore the weight of responsibility in his eyes. Seeing him like this brought her comfort, however fleeting it might be. Her lips curved into a small, involuntary smile, and for a moment, the heaviness she carried gave way to something softer.
But that fragile serenity didn't last long. As her eyes traced the lines of her brother's face, she noticed something... unusual.
Wrapped tightly around Subaru's arm was a small form—a petite figure with long, flowing hair and an unmistakable air of pride and mystery. Beatrice.
"Beako...? What on earth is she doing here?" Hikari thought, her brow furrowing. Surprise flashed across her face, her eyes narrowing slightly as she leaned forward for a better look. She blinked a few times, half-convinced it might just be a trick of the light or a dream clinging to her waking mind. But no—it was real. Beatrice was right there, nestled close to Subaru like a child clinging to a favorite toy.
Letting out a soft breath, Hikari pulled back. She didn't know whether to feel amused, confused, or jealous. Part of her wanted to curl up beside them, to return to sleep and ignore the questions nagging at the back of her mind. But she couldn't. The events of the previous night hung over her like a fog, and the biggest mystery of all was where Subaru and Elsa had gone. No one had told her anything. She hated being left out of the loop.
Still, she reminded herself to be patient. Whatever had happened, there had to be a reason for the secrecy. And morning had already arrived. She was far too alert to drift back into sleep, so she slipped out from under the covers, trying her best not to disturb the others.
The wooden floor felt cold under her bare feet as she tiptoed toward the door. She reached for the doorknob and turned it slowly, the metal cool in her hand. Every movement was careful, deliberate. She didn't want to wake Subaru, Beatrice, or anyone else if she could help it. Opening the door just enough to slip through, she stepped into the hallway.
The corridor was bathed in faint morning light filtering in from the windows. Everything was silent, almost eerily so. On her right was the room Rem and Beatrice usually shared, while to her left was the guest room where Elsa and Meili had been staying. Both doors were closed, not a single sound escaping from within. She paused briefly in front of each one, half-expecting to hear movement or voices. Nothing.
With a soft sigh that barely disturbed the air, she turned and quietly made her way back to her room.
She walked to the corner where her small desk sat beneath the window, its surface cluttered with scraps of paper, charcoal pencils, and half-finished diagrams. Sliding into her chair, she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk and her chin in her hands. Time had been crawling lately, each day stretching out longer than the last. It wasn't just boredom—it was that frustrating sense of helplessness, of being stuck between knowing too little and doing too little.
To distract herself, she had begun revisiting the projects she used to work on with Subaru—half-imagined inventions and ambitious blueprints for machines they had dreamed up together. Bringing them into this world, however, was proving far more difficult than expected. The technology, the materials, even the basic principles—nothing aligned quite right. Every prototype she tried either failed to activate or behaved unpredictably. It was disheartening.
Still, she hadn't given up. Not yet.
"Maybe something simpler this time... something mechanical but less sensitive to magic," she muttered to herself.
Her eyes drifted toward the window again. Outside, the city was beginning to wake. The streets that had been empty moments ago now carried the soft rumble of activity. She watched as earth dragons pulled wagons and carriages down the main avenue. Merchants were setting up stalls, early risers were hurrying to begin their day, and the first traces of smoke curled from the chimneys of nearby homes.
The familiar sound of wooden wheels clattering over cobblestones reached her ears.
Something clicked. "Transportation... wheels... That's it!" she whispered, her eyes widening.
"A train!"
The idea struck her like a thunderbolt. Excitement surged through her as the concept took shape in her mind. She could already see it—a long, metal serpent gliding along tracks, powered by steam and fire, connecting distant towns and cities. It wasn't magic-based, it was raw engineering. And more importantly, it felt possible.
Without wasting a second, she grabbed a charcoal pencil and flipped open her sketchbook. Her hands moved swiftly, the lines forming as if guided by instinct. Though she lacked her brother's mechanical expertise, her skill in drawing was undeniable. While Subaru could design circuits and calculate pressure thresholds, Hikari's talent lay in visualizing and rendering ideas with near-perfect clarity.
With an artist's eye, she drew the engine car first—a bulky machine with a chimney puffing thick smoke into the sky. She added the carriages behind it, sketched the rails stretching out beneath them, and began embellishing the train with design details she remembered from old books and memories of stories told late at night.
She lost track of time. The sun had climbed higher, casting longer shadows on the walls. Her fingers were smudged with charcoal, but she didn't care. For the first time in days, she felt a genuine sense of purpose.
Meanwhile, in the dim stillness of the bed, Subaru slowly stirred. A soft groan escaped his lips as he fought against the heaviness of sleep. As he blinked and tried to lift his arm, he felt something small and warm coiled tightly around it.
Turning his head slightly, his vision still blurry, he saw Beatrice. The little girl was still clinging to him, her breathing soft and even. A mixture of confusion and amusement flickered across his face.
He gently tried to free his arm, but the motion caused Beatrice to shift. A faint frown creased her brow, and within seconds, her eyes began to flutter open, her hold on him loosening just a little as she stirred awake, the peace of sleep slowly giving way to the light of morning.
Beatrice rubbed her eyes gently, her eyelids still drooping with the remnants of sleep. The golden rays of the early morning sun had already spilled into the room, casting warm patches of light across the wooden floor. The atmosphere was calm and still, as if the entire world was holding its breath for just a moment longer. Sitting nearby, Subaru caught sight of her stirring and gave her a warm smile, his voice barely above a whisper, as if to not disturb the fragile tranquility of the moment:
"Good morning, Beako. Did you sleep well?"
Beatrice blinked a few times, then gave a small nod. She brought a hand to her mouth and let out a soft yawn, her small frame still curled slightly under the blanket. Then, with a faint grogginess in her voice, she turned to look at Subaru:
"Good morning... I suppose I did. Betty didn't have any nightmares sleeping beside Subaru. I don't know why, but... I felt at ease. Like I wasn't alone, not even for a second."
Subaru's heart swelled at her admission. For someone like Beatrice—who often masked her true feelings behind sharp words and a stubborn attitude—to express such gentle vulnerability was rare. And even more rare was the faint smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. It was subtle, barely there, but to Subaru, it meant the world. In that quiet morning light, she looked almost peaceful. And he felt a quiet gratitude for being able to witness it.
Just then, the gentle rustling of paper caught his attention. At the far end of the room, Hikari sat at her desk, surrounded by sketches and scattered pencils. She looked up from her drawing, her eyes glinting with a mix of curiosity, mild disapproval, and just a hint of mischief. Without pausing her pencil strokes, she called out:
"Good morning, onii-chan. You've got some explaining to do today, don't you? Like, why Beatrice-chan is snuggled up next to you in bed? Or where you ran off to last night? I mean, Elsa's definitely pretty and mysterious but if you're going out on dates, you could at least tell your little sister first."
Subaru chuckled at her dramatic tone, knowing full well that underneath her playful accusations was genuine concern. He raised his hands slightly in mock surrender and shook his head:
"Relax, Hikari. I'll explain everything, promise. First off, I made a contract with Beatrice. She's not just any spirit—she's a Great Spirit now officially bound to me. It's a spiritual connection that lets her stay close, protect me, and lend me her power when needed. Sharing a room, or even sleeping nearby, is part of that pact. It's more than companionship—it's trust. And yes... I want things to stay this way."
He paused briefly, giving Beatrice a small, reassuring glance before continuing:
"As for last night, I wasn't on a date with Elsa. Halibel-san invited both of us for a joint training session. We accepted, and during that training, we ended up sparring against Iris and Fraud. It wasn't easy—those two are intense—but it was a valuable experience. Exhausting, sure, but I learned a lot. That's the gist of it, really."
Hikari remained quiet for a moment, her pencil dancing over the page as she shaded in the outline of a character. Finally, she broke the silence, her voice thoughtful:
"Hmm... so you met Iris and Fraud. I've read about them in Hal-san's notes. He doesn't waste time on people he doesn't see potential in. If he's chosen to train you, then he must believe in your strength... or your potential to grow even stronger."
She set her pencil down and turned to face him fully, her expression more serious now.
"In that case, I want to ask for something too."
Subaru tilted his head slightly, curiosity piqued. "Of course, Hikari. Whatever it is, I'm listening."
Hikari took a deep breath, her voice steady but passionate. "I want to train too. I know I might not be cut out for sword fighting or physical combat. But I'm good with focus, with study. I want to learn magic. I don't want to be someone who always needs to be protected. I want to be someone who can offer real support, someone who can stand beside you—not behind. Even if all I can do is cast a barrier or heal a wound, I want to be that person."
Her words hung in the air, weighty and sincere. Subaru rubbed his chin, deep in thought.
"Hmm... That's admirable, Hikari. But there's a catch. I'm not exactly a magic expert. I know a few spells, sure, but I wouldn't call myself a proper mage. And Hal-san, Elsa, Iris, and Fraud—they're all more on the combat side. None of them specialize in magical instruction."
He paused again, tapping his fingers against his leg thoughtfully.
"So if we're going to find someone to teach you... we'll need to look elsewhere. But if you're serious about this, I'll help you find that person. I promise."
Hikari's eyes lit up—not with naive excitement, but with the quiet determination of someone ready to change their path.
And for a moment, the morning light in the room felt even warmer than before.
Just then, the moment was cut short by a soft, deliberate throat-clearing sound. It wasn't loud, but it carried a pointed weight that immediately drew attention. All eyes turned toward Beatrice, who stood with arms crossed, an arched brow and a knowing smirk on her face.
"Subaru, I believe you're forgetting that I'm still present," she said dryly, but with unmistakable amusement.
Subaru blinked, as if waking from a daze, and then his face lit up with realization. "Ah! That's right—Beako! You could help! You're perfect for this! Would you be willing to teach Hikari some magic?"
Beatrice's eyes sparkled with pride. She adjusted her stance, placing a hand on her hip. "Naturally. Passing down knowledge is hardly a challenge for someone of my caliber. Besides, it's about time you expanded your repertoire beyond just Shamak. Honestly, relying solely on that spell is pitiful. You need a proper foundation. I'll train both of you."
She paused, then continued with a sly grin. "And thanks to our contract, your ability to channel Yin magic into your daggers has improved dramatically. With a bit of discipline, you might even learn to control that wild energy of yours. Really, being Betty's contractor makes you quite the fortunate fool."
Subaru's face lit up with childlike excitement. Without thinking, he jumped to his feet, dashed toward Beatrice, and scooped her up in his arms.
"Beako! You're amazing! You know that, right? Absolutely amazing!"
He spun her around in a dizzying circle. Beatrice's twin drills flew with the motion as her face turned bright red.
"P-Put Betty down this instant, you dolt!" she protested, flailing slightly, but without much conviction.
Across the room, Hikari had been watching in silence. Her eyes remained unreadable, but she let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh. Then she spoke, her voice soft and sincere:
"Beatrice-chan... I really am grateful. Truly. But... please don't take onii-chan away from me."
Her words, simple as they were, hung in the air for a beat longer than expected.
Beatrice stopped squirming. Subaru, stunned, gently lowered her to the floor. He turned to Hikari and gave a sheepish grin, then walked over and sat beside her.
He ruffled her hair gently. "Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere."
His eyes drifted down to the sheet of paper in front of her. Curious, he tilted his head. "What's this?"
Hikari, still leaning into his touch, didn't hesitate. She held the sketch out with both hands. The drawing was detailed—meticulously shaded with smooth, confident lines. Subaru took it, and his eyes widened in awe.
"Whoa... is this a steam-powered train? That's incredible. The proportions, the design... this isn't just some doodle. Did we ever sketch something like this together before? I don't remember."
Hikari's face lit up with pride. "No, it's not one of ours. I based it on one of Dad's old projects. I used to sneak into his study and copy his diagrams when he wasn't looking. I couldn't remember every detail, but this design stayed in my head. I've been wanting to recreate it for a long time."
Subaru let out a soft whistle. "Well, color me impressed. That's a little mischievous of you, but honestly? I'm glad you did it. This is seriously impressive work."
He ruffled her hair again and handed the paper to Beatrice, who had stepped closer and was now eyeing the sketch with interest. She took the drawing carefully and examined it in silence for a few moments.
Then, in her signature dry tone, she said, "Her artistic ability is exceptional... unlike someone else I could mention."
Subaru immediately dropped to his knees in mock agony, clutching his chest as if mortally wounded. "Oof. That one went straight to the heart, Beako."
Hikari giggled, and even Beatrice allowed a small smirk to break through.
The room grew quiet for a short while. Subaru remained kneeling, but his gaze was fixed on the drawing now resting on the floor in front of him. Thoughts began to churn in his head. The concept wasn't just fantasy—it had real potential. If they could build something like this, it could drastically improve travel, trade, communication—perhaps even reshape how the kingdom connected its people.
"If we could make this work... it would be revolutionary," he thought, the gears in his head already turning.
He looked toward the window. The sky was brighter now, the day fully underway. But they still had time. Maybe not here, not yet—but when they got to Lagunica, when things settled, this idea deserved serious attention.
He rose to his feet slowly, cradling the sketch in both hands. His voice was steady when he spoke:
"Hikari, I'm going to put this in my bag. Don't worry—you can look at it anytime you want. But once we reach Lagunica, I promise we'll start working on this for real. No more delays. We'll make this project a reality."
Hikari nodded, her eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and gratitude. She didn't say anything—she didn't have to. Her expression said it all.
Beatrice crossed her arms and gave a small huff, pretending to be annoyed by the sentiment. But there was a subtle upward tug at the corner of her lips.
"Well, if we're done getting sentimental, shall we finally leave this room? I, for one, have more important things to do than watch you two get all sappy."
Subaru and Hikari chuckled. Then, together with Beatrice trailing behind them, the three left the room. And though their day was just beginning, a new chapter had quietly taken root—one fueled by memory, family, and the steel wheels of a dream.