A month had passed since Sylvia last fell asleep without dreams. Time moves too quickly, even for someone like her.
Life in the castle had returned to tranquility. Black-violet flowers bloomed across the gardens, zombie guards marched in disciplined lines across the training yard, and the machinery of administration turned ceaselessly in the hands of Celes and Aurellia.
The world outside seemed peaceful, but to Sylvia, that peace had begun to feel like a cage. Her body had fully recovered. Her mana flowed steadily, no longer surging out of control whenever she used it. Even the Death Authority pulsing beneath her skin now throbbed softly, synchronized with her breath.
And to Sylvia, that could only mean one thing: It was time to move again.
That morning, pale sunlight filtered through the grand hall's windows. Before her sat three familiar figures: Celes, Alicia, and Stacia. Their faces all bore the same expression of disapproval.
"No."
