Mirabel stared at me.
It felt as though we were repeating ourselves again, circling the same argument without end.
Dragging the exhaustion of the last chapter behind us like a weight neither of us could shake.
My body still trembled from overexertion, my limbs heavy and unresponsive.
My vision dimmed at the edges, blurring into soft shadows that made the room feel distant.
Nothing made sense anymore, and yet I forced myself to stand as though the world did not tilt beneath my feet.
"Just allow me to do this. Do not keep questioning me. You know what will be done."
She finally lowered her eyes. "I may allow you to do it, but I do not have to be happy about it."
"Does it matter? I am still within the bounds of the third wall. Is that enough power to fight in the war?"
She did not answer. She did not need to. The memory of collapsing after the spar still clung to my limbs.
The sharpness of my Regalia had hollowed me out, draining me until the world dissolved into nothing.
Even now my breathing remained unsteady, my chest rising in uneven pulls of air.
Yet I spoke as though I were whole, as though I had not nearly died from my own ambition.
When it comes to life and death, who would willingly hold back.
Who would walk onto a battlefield and expect to walk away untouched.
It was foolish to even think of stepping out there, foolish for anyone, and even more so for me.
And yet I still needed to. I needed to look death in the eyes.
[Nicholas craved some semblance of redemption. How pitiful.]
She stood up.
Her hand swept through the air, and in that instant my entire body became bound, held by a force older and heavier than the world itself.
The pressure wrapped around me like chains woven from ancient law.
"Move forward, Nicholas. Move forward. Progress forward to me. If you take even a single step, I will slaughter you here."
Against every instinct, every thought, I knew she was serious.
It was not an empty threat. It was a sentence.
So I stepped back. The moment my foot shifted, my soul howled.
I tried to scream, but no sound emerged.
I tried to walk forward, and the world itself rejected it.
No, not the world.
Something deeper and older moved beneath her command, something that looked at me with quiet, ancient certainty.
I would not take that step. I could not.
My very existence knew it. Or perhaps everything else knew it for me. I was walking toward a death I could not resist.
When her force finally stopped, I collapsed at her feet, breathless and shaking.
My body remembered the fight.
My vision flickered again, faint and unstable.
I looked up. She looked down.
The gap between us became painfully clear, the gap between me and all those who stood above.
The gap between me and the fate I pretended I could challenge.
I struck the floor.
"What was the point? You will not change my mind, not even with this."
She knelt and lifted my chin, her expression soft yet unbearably stern.
"It has been three days, Nicholas."
[The Fool.]
Only then did I realize my clothes were loose, meant for rest.
Only then did I see the faint exhaustion in her posture, the dimness in her eyes, the quiet toll of keeping me alive.
She had watched over me for days, guarding a man who had nearly killed himself out of pride and desperation.
I realized then, painfully and completely, that I was a fool.
[Something to remember. Nicholas was a foul man. He should not be cried for, pitied, or wept for.]
"Give me the reports on Guild's progression as a company," I said quietly.
"And begin finalizing all sections and pathways."
She smiled faintly. "You do not wish to look at yourself."
I collapsed to the floor again.
"Do not play with me, Mirabel. I am nothing. What need do I have to stare into the face of myself."
I stood and turned toward the mirror.
Before my reflection could form, I shattered it completely, erasing it with all the power I had left.
Blood dripped from my nose as the fragments dissolved into dust.
I faced her again. "What need do I have to look into the face of the end."
She shifted to the right as I walked past her, aiming to change my clothes.
"You should not be so hurt by my actions, Nicky. I do it out of love."
As I was taking off my shirt, I looked back. "Does it matter."
She frowned. "And you're sulking. You should really fix that."
I changed my pants and put on my boots. "Fix that. It would take far too much effort."
I looked toward the door. "Now, can we get to work? I do not have time for this."
She walked up beside me as I opened the door. "You do have time, because you want to grow stronger, right."
When I looked back, I was no longer in the Central World.
Instead I stood in a vast world of stars and light.
Flaring hearts and rising suns touched the horizon.
Black holes lingered like silent watchers. Space without limits. Time without consistency.
A world within, and a world beyond.
I took a breath as my sword from the Cradle of Swords materialized in my hand.
Afterwards we fell onto a burning star, its heat bending and shimmering beneath our feet.
She had placed me within her Inner World. How brazen.
"What is this. Mirabel, do you aim to keep me captive as this war progresses."
She raised her hand, and a sword of red light appeared, mirroring my own in shape.
"I am to mold you. I am going to beat you down, build you up, and do this over and over."
[Nicholas was faced with a small fire in his heart. It was a small fire that was happiness.]
I trembled and raised my sword. "This is your choice."
She nodded. "This is my choice."
It was simple to grasp.
The depravity of my weakness was too much, and the thought of living a life of constant pain and suffering clawed at the edges of my mind.
Was I truly so weak for such a fate.
Was I so weak to be.
It was never going to be easy, never going to be a passing breeze, and yet I still felt it, that lingering flame that wanted to burn away my weakness.
The weak do not survive in this world.
That being said, I shall be the weakest among the strong.
And as the strong linger and grasp at my name, I shall protect the weak.
I shall protect myself.
"Mirabel! Am I to stand before you and aim to slaughter, how much can you take?"
Black light surged from my blade, tearing through this world.
"You may swing your sword without care for my meaningless life. My love, you are precious."
I bent my knees, the star folding beneath me. "Am I so great to make you nothing?"
She mirrored my stance. "Am I so great, you feel the need to acknowledge me?"
I laughed.
She was copying me. How mean.