The world lurched.
Darkness twisted, and time unraveled like a reel of film spinning backward. Screams. Blood. Sirius's laughter. All gone—replaced in a blink with sunshine, lush greenery, and the bustle of Priestella's streets.
The fountain beside them spilled crystal-clear water.
And Subaru's hand crushed Beatrice's tiny fingers in a death grip.
"S-Subaru, are you alright, I suppose?" she yelped, wincing.
Just do better.
"Natsuki! after the song ends and they chat again, don't you think you should prepare some snacks for us to enjoy later?"
Liliana the Bard chimed, leaning in with her awkward wink, golden eyes glinting with playfulness.
Just do better.
Gojo's words rang like a curse in his skull, blotting out everything else.
Priscilla's fiery gaze lingered on him, sharp and curious, though she offered no words. In contrast, Emilia's brows furrowed, worry bleeding into her expression.
"Subaru… are you sure you're alright?"
Do better.
Of course he should.
He has Return by Death. He can save everyone. No failures. No bodies. No mistakes. With this cursed blessing, perfection is possible. No—it's a necessity.
"…Subaru..?"
Perfection. He just has to reach it. Gojo was right. Gojo's always right.
"Ow—ow, owowow!!"
Beatrice's pained yelp ripped through his trance. Subaru's eyes widened. His whole body jolted. He glanced down, horrified to see her face twisted in discomfort.
He had been squeezing too hard.
"A-Ah… yeah, sorry about that, haha."
His laugh was thin, brittle, sweat dotting his brow as he quickly loosened his grip.
Emilia tilted her head, unconvinced.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yeah—it's nothing. Don't worry."
She looked like she wanted to press further, but instead, she nodded reluctantly.
Subaru forced a grin, crouching slightly as he took Beatrice's hand again, careful this time.
"Alright, Beako—you're coming with me. Let's go shopping!"
The words came out bright, almost cheerful.
Almost.
Because underneath the smile, his heart still raced with memories of blood and chains, and the words repeating like a drumbeat in his head:
Do better. Do better. Do better.
——————————————————————————
Amidst the bustle of Priestella's main street—vendors shouting, boots clattering against stone—the air suddenly warped like ripples across calm flowing water.
White hair. Sunglasses. Hands slack at his sides.
Satoru Gojo stepped out of nothingness, earning gasps and stares from passersby.
"Finally got some time to myself~" he sighed.
"Old man Wilhelm's really pulling weight distracting Reinhard."
For once, the walking cheat-code of a knight wasn't glued to his hip. Ever since he had escaped the Pleiades Watchtower and arrived at the Sanctuary, there were few times where Reinhard wasn't either by his side or watching him closely with a keen eye, and in the rare moments where the redhead wasn't in his senses, he still intercepted practically every attempt Gojo made to slip away.
The freedom was… bliss. He strolled lazily, hands buried in his pockets, not a care in the world.
Until a sing-song voice cut through the crowd:
"You want your future told? Fortune readings, cheap price, cheap price!"
Gojo's head tilted. Back in Japan it would no doubt a scam, that's for certain. But here? Magic was actually real. Why not peek behind the curtain?
He drifted over to the stall, where an old woman hunched in a violet cloak, eyes sharp under her hood.
"Y'lookin' interested, kid?"
She rasped.
"Eh, sure. Why not."
"Then follow."
She pushed aside a flap of fabric, revealing a shabby, out-of-place tent squatting between proper storefronts. Gojo ducked inside and found himself surrounded by flickering candles, stale incense, and a rickety table.
The old woman produced a needle.
"…Huh?"
Gojo stared blankly.
"Prick your skin. Three drops. Right here."
She slid a worn page forward, tapping her wrinkled finger on the parchment.
Gojo raised a brow.
"…Better not find my blood selling for top coin at some marketplace."
Still, he obliged, nicking his finger and letting crimson drip onto the page. The parchment didn't soak as Gojo expected however—it simply sat above the page, until the old woman smeared it with her fingers, muttering low under her breath.
Silence followed.
Her voice was hoarse, deliberate:
"The near future darkens, though not without flame. Should your guard falter, the curses may take claim. In a land unfamiliar, where shadows repose, there lingers a blade that draws ever close."
Gojo blinked. Then deadpanned:
"…That's it?"
The old woman's brow twitched. A vein bulged across her temple.
"You think this craft is simple, brat?!"
She spat as she shouted—but the constant rain of spit hit an invisible wall, sliding harmlessly down Gojo's Infinity.
He leaned back, palms raised.
"Hey hey, no need to blow a gasket, Granny."
"Hrrh… whatever! Pay up!"
Gojo rolled his eyes, paying was a simple task for him obviously, and as such, being a member of society he would obviously do so. Though as he glanced at the price list, his expression didn't change, but one notable bead of sweat slid down his cheek.
"…I thought you said this was cheap…"
When the old woman looked up, the chair was empty. Only the tent flap swayed from the wind.
Outside, Gojo was already three streets away, whistling without a care.
"Now that I think about it, I probably should've checked with the Six Eyes to see if there was any actual magic going on, instead of just nonsense. These sunglasses failing me… that's a first."
Gojo pouted aloud, earning a few side-eyes from passing townsfolk.
But then—he stopped.
A shoulder slammed into him, but of course, he remained unmoving.
"Oi, what're you stoppin' for in the middle of the street?!" A demi-human barked, storming off.
Gojo ignored him. His brows knit in confusion.
That cursed energy… he knew it anywhere. Subaru.
"…What's he gotten himself into this time damn it?"
——————————————————————————
Meanwhile, at the tower—
A deafening crack split the air. An enormous crystal, longer than five men, burst through the side of the clock tower, shearing stone like parchment before jutting clean out the other side.
Subaru's mouth fell somewhat agape at Emilia's growth. The crowd, panicked but free of mind control, scattered for safety. Wrath's Authority hadn't yet overtaken them.
"…Damn, Emilia-tan!" Subaru muttered, eyes wide. "I didn't think you had that kind of firepower in you…"
His gaze flicked to the silver-haired girl at his side.
"…But after all our training, you didn't go all in even once!"
Emilia flushed, her lips parting, but before she could reply Beatrice tugged sharply at Subaru's hand.
"On a more serious note, you should perhaps address the crowd—" the great spirit huffed, pouting.
"They are most certainly entertaining misunderstandings right now, I suppose."
"Right, right… I'll get to that, but Beako—did Shamac do anything as planned?"
She shook her head, a troubled frown crossing her small face.
"It did not, in fact. It is not magic at all—this is something different. Perhaps curse arts or spiritual interference."
The meaning sank in instantly. Their Yin magic couldn't touch Wrath's Authority. And even now, it was already spreading.
Screams tore across the plaza. Bloodshot eyes. Twisting faces. The crowd, one by one, buckled under madness.
"It stinks—STINKS! STINKSSTINKSSTINKSSTINKS!!"
The voice bellowed from above, followed by a deafening impact as the weakened wall of the tower crumbled. The massive icicle shattered, shards raining down like glittering knives under the sunlight.
From the wreckage, footsteps.
The monster emerged.
Sirius Romanee-Conti. Sin Archbishop of Wrath.
Blood smeared her body, her bandages torn where Emilia's ice had torn flesh. Her left arm hung limp, twitching. But her eyes—those burning, red-veined eyes—were alive with rage.
"I smell it. I smell it!" Her head jerked violently, snapping onto Emilia and Subaru.
"That disgusting stench—the girl! You—YOU!!"
Her voice shrieked, breaking into hysteria.
"You come after taking him from me?! My HUSBAND?! You vile, repulsive half-devil—I HATE YOU! I HATEYOUHATEYOUHATEYOU!!"
Chains screeched and lashed against the ground as she bent her knees. Then she launched. The tower's edge splintered under the force of her leap, and she came crashing down into the plaza with a quake, the concrete splitting beneath her landing.
Her palms slammed together.
A roar of red flame erupted outward, twisting and writhing with her fury.
"I AM A SIN ARCHBISHOP OF THE WITCH CULT—REPRESENTING WRATH!!"
"—SIRIUS ROMANEE-CONTI!!"
Subaru froze, throat dry. He remembered her smile when he'd cut her down in another loop. That strange composure. This wasn't the same. This was worse—pure, uncontrollable rage.
"…She's not the same as before," he muttered hoarsely. His grip on Beatrice tightened. "…So this is where the 'Wrath' comes in."
Sirius's bloodshot eyes locked on him, overflowing with grief and fury.
"Am I not allowed to mourn?!" she shrieked, spittle flying.
"You butcher my love, and then show your filthy faces again?! How much do you hate me to torture me so?!"
"I don't understand what you're talking about—" Emilia's voice was calm, but her brows knit in quiet tension, silver lashes trembling as she raised her guard. "If I had truly done something to you, I would never forget it. But I don't remember you… so please, if I did something wrong, tell me. I'll listen. I'll take responsibility."
Her eyes softened, even as she lifted her hands.
"But this has nothing to do with the people you're hurting. Please—let them go."
For a moment, there was silence. Then Sirius screeched.
Her crimson flames howled higher, heat distorting the air around her.
"IT'S ONLY NATURAL FOR ME TO BE OUTRAGED!! APOLOGIZE! GROVEL LIKE AN INSECT—BEG AS I BURN EVERY LAST PIECE OF YOU TO ASH!!"
Emilia exhaled once, steady. The fear in her chest did not reach her voice.
"…Then there's only one way for this to end."
Her knees bent. And in the next instant—she was gone. A streak of silver and blue.
Twin swords of ice flashed into her hands, glinting under the sun. She struck at Sirius's shoulder with speed too sharp to follow for any average person.
The Archibishop's chains, once gold, now writhed in crimson heat, snapping upward with a hiss of flame. Each blow collided in a storm of sparks and frost. Sirius snarled, teeth gnashing as she was forced into a stalemate.
Then her arms spread wide. The chain unraveled, whipping overhead and crashing down in a burning arc.
"HRAHHHHHH!"
Emilia caught it. Her sword braced the strike—but her eyes widened as the blade suddenly melted, dissolving in a gale of scalding mana. She gasped, twisting back as the second chain ripped through where she had stood.
"DIE! DIEDIEDIEDIE—DIE ALREADY, YOU BITCH! YOU FILTHY HALF-DEVIL WHORE!!"
The chains lashed again and again, each strike like a guillotine, each swing hotter, faster, more unhinged.
But Emilia did not break. She spun, mana surging, and in place of fragile blades, she summoned a massive hammer of ice. The blunt head met the flaming chain with a deafening crack. Frost surged outward—and for a heartbeat, Sirius was driven back.
The Sin Archbishop screeched, spittle flying from beneath her bandages. For the first time, she was on the defensive.
——————————————————————————
Subaru watched with his jaw tight. Every chain, every swing—Emilia was holding her own. But the crowd—
A guttural chorus rose.
"Diiirty insects—"
"Die—DIE—!"
Dozens of bloodshot eyes turned to him and Beatrice, their voices snarling, their bodies convulsing as they rushed like rabid beasts.
Subaru cursed under his breath. With one swift motion, he pulled Beatrice onto his back.
"Well, that's rude—"
"Subaru!!"
Beatrice snapped, her tone razor-sharp, clearly not a fan of Subaru's level of casualness.
"—Right, right! My bad!"
He bent low, cursed energy flaring. In the next breath, his legs uncoiled—and the world blurred. He shot upward like a bullet, air cracking behind him as he vaulted straight into the gaping hole in the tower wall.
His boots slammed against splintered wood. Darkness swallowed him.
And there—bound by Sirius's chains—was a small child.
Lusbel.
The same boy he had tried to save before. The same boy whose headless corpse haunted his last loop.
Subaru's breath caught. His chest tightened. His fingers trembled as his eyes locked onto the boy.
"…Hrk—"
——————————————————————————
Emilia's hammer lengthened and shifted, becoming a razor-pointed halberd. She thrust again and again, ice flashing in a brutal rhythm. Sirius weaved, caught, blocked—each parry forcing her an inch back, but never quite stopping the assault.
"My heart—my heart TREMBLES!" Sirius crowed, her voice raw and riven. "Wrath—this is WRATH!!"
She flicked her wrist; crimson chains laced around the ice halberd. Heat seared the air. The weapon steamed, the ice beginning to melt. Emilia's fingers burned; she had to let go. Her own strike turned against her as the halberd, swaddled now in crimson flame and Sirius's hands, hissed and reared back her way.
Emilia manifested a sword of ice and met Sirius blow for blow. The balance of the battle swung like a scale: advantage here, advantage there—neither giving ground easily.
"Those dirty purple eyes, that dirty silver hair, that dirty voice—designed only to seduce men. It DISGUSTS—IT REVOLTES ME!"
Emilia ground her teeth. The words wound her, and a flash of heat rose in her chest—rage answering rage. Normally the insults would slide off, but Sirius's Authority was beginning to seep in, poisoning her emotions more and more.
"That infuriates me! everything you've described is exactly what my favorite person likes the most!!"
Emilia yelled, lunging with the blade in hand. Each strike was parried, rebuffed. The ice halberd that Sirius was wielding continued weeping steam until the weapon finally liquefied and fell away, instantly, she switched back to the chains.
"Fury-- you speak of FURY!?!"
The archbishop roared in outrage. Until suddenly, Emilia's blade slipped between the web of chain that lanced across—too late for Sirius to evade.
It tore through Sirius's cloak, revealing a sight that made Emilia's blood run cold. A small, bound figure tumbled from the Archbishop's side—blonde curls plastered with blood, gagged, limbs entangled in chain, a child the same as Lusbel had been, sobbing in helpless, wet gasps.
Tina.
Emilia froze. Even her insurmountable fury halted then. She could not strike an innocent child. Her sword of ice fell heavy and useless for an instant; all she could do was watch as the girl skidded and hit the ground.
Sirius grinned, the ferocity in her smile like a knife. A blast of heat slammed Emilia backward; the stone exploded beneath her feet. She flew, skidding across the plaza until the tower's base swallowed her in a hail of falling rock.
For a heartbeat, everything went deaf.
"Hah.. hahaHAAHAHAHAHA, DONE, DEAD, FILTHY HAL—HRK?!"
Then a fist smashed into her jaw with enough force to dent stone. Bones protested; Sirius arched, gritted through pain, swayed—and went back on her feet with a feral growl.
"WHY YOU—"
She spat, blood seeping through the bandages on her face.
Subaru cut her off, lowering his fist. His eyes were hard as flint.
"Where's Emilia?!" He demanded.
Sirius howled, voice ragged and raw.
"THE HALF-DEVIL?!—FLATTENED—CRUSHED—LIKE AN INSECT, A MAGGOT!" She screamed in a frenzy.
Rage rose in Subaru like a tide. The veins at his forehead bulged; his vision tightened. He tasted iron in his mouth, felt the hot drum of wrath thudding in his chest.
"Ahh—" Sirius breathed, intoxicated by the fury she'd stoked.
"That Wrath—truly exquisite—"
Then Subaru said the name like a blade.
"Petelgeuse Romanee-Conti. Your husband's name, right?"
For a moment, her world stuttered. The flames around her flared, the air blackening as if some deeper engine had been touched.
"DON'T YOU DARE SPEAK HIS NAME, YOU FILTHY—MAGGOT!"
She screamed, and the plaza answered with a sound like a furnace.
Subaru didn't smile. He simply couldn't. His fingers shaped into the pistol–a cold, swift motion—and he pressed it to his temple.
"I killed him."
"—And I'll kill you too."
Just then, another voice cut through him—familiar, clipped, colder than the desert wind. It snapped Subaru from the brink before he could pull the trigger.
"I am glad I got here on time."
Debris parted, collapsing inward at the base of the clocktower, opening a corridor of air just wide enough for a figure to step through. Emilia lay cradled in those arms, unconscious, but almost completely unharmed.
Subaru's chest pinched—relief from seeing Emilia still alive, but rage at the sight of who had saved her.
The man who carried her smiled with an arrogance that made Subaru's skin crawl. He wore white, eyes like molten gold, and he moved with a grace that was not that of any mortal man.
"I came to meet her." The man said with a calm smile.
"I, of course, have a courtesy. A right—to see the woman I intend to take as my bride, do I not?"
Subaru stared, wordless.
The archbishop—no, that thing—lifted it's chin and announced those words as if reading an invitation.
"I am a Sin Archbishop of the Witch's Cult, representing Greed."
Cold knuckles tightened in Subaru's body. Those words, that manner of speech made something inside him churn with the memory of a monster Gojo had died to—again and again and again.
That thing.
"—Regulus Corneas."
That monster.
"And as my right."
"—I am here to take her… as my seventy-ninth wife."
The untouchable, arrives on the scene.