“Ange! Quit it!”
“You have to stop! Maggie’s gonna die!”
Anessa and Miriam desperately cried out. But their voices did not reach Angeline.
It was at that point that Percival stepped in and blocked her onslaught, wrathfully radiating with monstrous strength that he hadn’t shown in a while. “Don’t just let yourself be controlled so easily. You’re not that weak, are you?”
“Kill...” Angeline didn’t waste a second before launching her sword at Percival, but he had been through many more battles than any of them. He had no intention of killing her, but he responded with blows that should have been forceful enough to break her blade. Angeline’s one-sided offensive was halted, and now she was forced to defend herself.
But the more their blades met, the faster Angeline seemed to get. Bit by bit, she seemed to be learning from Percival. She began to weave feints into her mindless assault, and she started to find opportunities to get in her own attacks.
Percival scowled. “I’d be delighted under any other circumstance...”
Even as he was saying that, Angeline stooped down and raced in under his guard, her slash gouging Percival’s forearm and scattering droplets of his blood through the air. Percival’s eyes widened—he realized that Angeline had frozen at the end of that motion. Using his unmaimed left hand, he hammered her chest with a palm strike, doubling her over and sending her careening backward.
“Lone...ly...” Angeline muttered.
Graham’s sword howled with rage, its blade glimmering. It wasn’t the same fierce light as before, however, and it shone gently upon Angeline instead. Angeline halted and let out an anguished groan. Her sword slipped through her fingers and clattered to the ground.
It seemed that the fog had cleared from her mind. The overwhelming loneliness was contained, and her consciousness was returning, but what had been closed away before was still left open. Those nightmares of suffering and all that she should have forgotten were now flooding into Angeline’s head: Kasim’s eyes after he had given up on everything; Percival soaked in blood, hiding from his hatred and helplessness; Satie’s quivering back as she wept in despair—those nightmares now overlaid the people before her very eyes.
And there were memories that were hidden even further beyond those surfacing within her mind. “No... No, no, no, no!” Angeline pulled and twisted her hair into an unkempt mess.
Suddenly, Percival’s eyes widened as they watched her; Kasim, too, peered intently at her, and Satie froze, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly.
The shadow at Angeline’s feet gained substance and rose to stand alongside her, taking on the form of a four-legged beast—a great and powerful wolf, which then enveloped Angeline, its form flickering in and out of being.
“I... I...” Angeline could taste blood inside her mouth. Her eyes were overflowing with tears.
Satie clutched at her chest, gasping for breath. “No, it can’t be...”
“You’re kidding...”
“Wh-What?! What’s gotten into you three?” Marguerite asked insensitively, having no grasp of the situation.
With a stern face, Percival spoke up. “I could never forget it... That fiend, that wolflike shadow...is the one who took Bell’s leg.”
“Huh...?”
“No... That can’t be! You’re saying Ange was the fiend all along?!”
Miriam and Anessa looked between Angeline and Percival.
“I don’t want to believe it, but it’s true,” Kasim said, tilting his cap down over his eyes.
Percival scratched his head. “This is absurd, absurd! Then what am I— What am I supposed to do?!”
“The human called Angeline never existed!” Schwartz declared coldly.
Angeline turned to him. “No... I-I definitely...”
“You stole his leg and forced a cruel fate upon him, then swindled him out of his love, and for what? You cheated him. That is the truth!”
“Wrong, I...”
“Ange!” Her head snapped up and she turned towards the voice.
Through the falling snow, she could see red hair billowing in the wind. Belgrieve was running to her. But he looked like he was in pain. Judging by his steps that seemed to keep the weight off his right leg, surely it was his phantom pain acting up.
Angeline held her chest, her heart pounding.
She lurked in the dark. The presence of prey approached, announced by boisterous voices and four sets of footsteps. She saw the blond-haired boy, and the red-haired boy behind him.
I stole that leg.
She coiled up her rear legs; she would pounce to take life. She would eat flesh and drink blood. And for that...
The taste of fresh blood when I tore off his right leg was delicious.
She leaped. The tepid air of the cave whipped against her face. She bared her fangs. She opened her mouth.
No, it wasn’t delicious... It couldn’t have been.
She saw a surprised face. They were unable to react to her—and that was all the better. They just had to lie down and die. They just had to lie down and let themselves be devoured.
It was delicious. I wanted to eat more.
Someone leaped forth from behind the blond-haired boy and pushed him aside, so she took a bite out of him instead. She bit into his right leg with all her might. Her fangs tore through meat and bone.
That’s not true. I would never think that.
The taste of blood filled her mouth.
What a delicacy. I wanted to kill more. To kill and eat.
The one with red hair twisted his body to resist, pushing her head away. But that wasn’t nearly enough to stop her. With a roar, she forcefully lunged free and tore the leg off with that motion.
Delicious.
Her mouth was filled with the taste of blood.
No, I don’t want to eat that. I don’t wish for any of that.
So much blood. Another mouthful. Once she was done with him, there were still three more to go. What a joy it was.
But the red-haired one opened what looked like a scroll. The four adventurers faded and were soon gone. Her mouth was full of blood. The smell permeated through her nasal cavity.
Delicious. But not nearly enough.
Ah, but...even if I deny it, it’s the truth. “I’m...the cause of everything.”
She was the reason Kasim had turned to villainy, why Percival had continued to recklessly throw himself into battle, and why Satie had gone through so many cycles of sadness and despair. It was all because she had taken Belgrieve’s leg.
And my father too—how much suffering has he gone through because of the loss of his leg? The remembered taste and smell of the blood in her mouth reinforced the memories in all their vivid detail.
An ugly little bird that had kicked all the other chicks from the nest. What wonderful futures awaited all those eggs that fell to the ground below?
“Urgh... Uwaaaaaah!” Angeline fell to her knees, burying her face in her hands.
How could I possibly face Belgrieve now? How could I possibly call him dad? I don’t have the right...
The shadow enveloping Angeline swelled in size. The air was filled with what sounded like an earthquake, and the flurry was now a blizzard. The space behind her seemed to twist out of shape. The shadow swirled behind Angeline, and the center of the spiral, gradually growing wider and wider, revealed a pitch-black space within.
Every time she remembered the happy days she had spent as Angeline, each time she recalled those warm memories with friends and family, her sense of guilt only grew stronger. It felt like she was the only one who had been happy—that she had stolen the happiness of everyone else.
I can’t be here. It’s better if I’m not. Someone like me should just disappear.
Her hair began to thrash about like a tangled brood of writhing snakes. Her braid came undone, and the hair clip fixed to her bangs fell away.
“I’m sorry...”
The pitch-black space behind her swallowed Angeline whole.
“Ange!” Anessa cried out.
In a quavering voice, Miriam asked, “Wh-What is that...?”
“A hole in space produced by the flow of events,” Schwartz muttered. “A stream of phenomena tracing back from a distant past has coalesced here. You have my thanks.”
“You little...” Marguerite rushed him with her sword poised to strike, but before she could reach him, Schwartz teleported in front of the pitch-black space and entered it himself. Marguerite stopped short of the darkness, her ardor faltering. “Why... Why’s it gotta be like this?!” Marguerite punched at the ground.
Dragging along his peg leg, Belgrieve finally arrived. He frowned, a perplexed look on his face. “What happened?”
“Bell...” Satie looked at him with tearful eyes.
Percival sat on the ground with his head hung, utterly drained. Kasim stood with his arms folded, his hat pulled low over his eyes. Byaku had collapsed and lay limply on the ground, breathing roughly.
Anessa had broken down in tears. “Mr. Bell...”
Miriam sobbed and hugged him. “Ange... Ange is...”
“Graham?”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t strong enough.”
Graham had fallen to one knee, leaning against his sword and staring at his shaking palm. He seemed frustrated that his full-powered attack had failed to take down Schwartz.
Belgrieve looked up—the hole in space was still open, the void of nothingness still swirling.
The snow was letting up ever so slightly.