The midday sun scattered gold across the plaza, yet to Subaru, everything felt muted. He stood before the same fruit stall as earlier, shoulders slouched, jaw tight.
The shopkeeper—old, turbaned, tired-eyed—glared at him without a word. The man probably thought Subaru was just another jobless drifter.
Honestly? Not wrong.
Subaru forced a grin and gave the man a thumbs-up. "You're a great guy deep down. I know it."
The glare deepened into quiet disgust.
He sighed.
Okay, okay. Maybe skip the quirky anime antics today. Not helping.
Reinhard stood nearby, posture regal even while idle, calmly watching the crowd. Lucien lounged like sun-warmed poetry, nibbling a cherry tart with one hand and scanning the square with the other, amber eyes lazy but alert. He held out a tart toward Subaru.
"No thanks," Subaru muttered, arms folded. "Not in the mood for pastry diplomacy."
Lucien chuckled. "Mood or not, the air's thick today. Like an overture on the verge of shifting key."
Why do you always sound like you're narrating a tragic opera about my life?
He didn't say it out loud.
Instead, Subaru scanned the street again. Trying to look casual.
I am Calm. I am in control.
But there's no Puck. No silver hair half-elf, Not-Satella. I'm definitely schedule again. If there even is a schedule.
He couldn't say too much. Reinhard was nice—too nice—and Lucien? Subaru couldn't read him. Friendly, sure, but too perceptive. He didn't trust that type.
So he kept it vague. Let them think he was just... hopeful. Romantic. Not a guy who remembered screams, ice, and warm blood on his hands. He shivers.
The crowd swelled around them—beastmen barking prices, merchants haggling, a child chasing a runaway apple.
Then—a sound. Like glass breaking inside snow.
Snap. Crack. Pop.
The air shifted. Reinhard tensed.
Subaru's heart skipped. His instinct screamed.
Magic.
They moved fast. Reinhard first—eyes sharp, body coiled rushed to the scene. Subaru running like his life depended on it. And Lucien? He trailed with unhurried grace, his harp bouncing gently behind him.
A side alley. Four precise holes bored into stone, like sharpened icicles had punched clean through.
Subaru stared.
"She was here," he whispered.
Lucien traced the marks with his gloved fingers.
"Clean strikes," he murmured. "Quite anxiously, it seems. It was someone lashing out, not defending themselves."
Reinhard nodded. "The magic is casted deliberately. It was controlled and precised."
Subaru felt cold sweat down his spine. He could see her face. Anxious, Cornered.
Too late. Stolen again.
But this time, he didn't say it.
He clenched his fists.
"She had it stolen. The insignia. That thief girl—Felt—she probably ran. I might know where."
Reinhard looked at him. "You're certain?"
"No. Just... a gut feeling."
Lucien didn't speak, but his look said plenty.
Subaru avoided his gaze.
He turned to Reinhard.
"Maybe we split. I'll go after the thief. You cover the plaza. Maybe Emilia circles back."
Reinhard nodded solemnly. "Very well. I'll stay here."
Lucien stepped in beside Subaru.
"I'll go with you," he said simply.
Subaru blinked. "Why?"
"You're heading where the melody stumbles."
"What does that—never mind."
Subaru didn't have time to argue. He jogged toward the slums. Lucien followed, light-footed and unbothered.
Reinhard watched them vanish into the crowd.
***
The smell of rot and stagnant water hit first.
Subaru's shoes squelched in the mud. The slums welcomed them with filth and silence. He'd been here before. Too many times. Not enough times. It all blurred.
Felt's shack wasn't far. If she followed the same path, she'd go there before the loot house.
Maybe.
If she existed in this version at all.
Lucien said nothing, walking beside him with infuriating calm. Like this was all routine. A song on repeat.
Subaru's head buzzed.
What if she's already gone? What if Elsa's already there?
His fingers twitched at the memory. That smile. That blade. That darkness.
Don't think about Elsa.
Don't think about dying.
Again.
They turned a corner—and there it was. The shack, looks small, almost crumbling, but still intact.
Subaru slowed. His heart pounding.
A voice rang from behind.
"You're going way too far. Are you stalking me? It's disgusting."
He turned.
Short, messy blond hair. Dirty clothes. Sharp glare. Arms crossed.
Felt.
She looked the same.
He tried to play it off. "I—uh—I was just admiring the architecture. Big fan of... sticks and desperation."
Felt rolled her eyes. "Creep."
Lucien leaned against the wall. "Ah. The actress arrives."
Felt ignored him, eyes locked on Subaru. "You want something? Or are you just wandering the slums like a lost dog?"
Subaru raised his hands. "I just want to talk. Deal. I'm not here to cause trouble."
"You look like trouble. You smell like it too."
"Yeah, well, you're not exactly perfume and grace."
They glared.
Lucien clapped once. "Lovely tension. Shall I play a duet?"
"No!" they both snapped.
Felt narrowed her eyes. "Alright. Talk. What do you want?"
"The insignia," Subaru said. "I want to buy it."
Her expression darkened.
She pulled the dragon insignia from her shirt, letting it dangle. It caught the light like a blade.
"How do you even know I have this?"
Subaru hesitated.
He had no sane answer.
Lucien stepped in. "Let's say he has a friend. A very peculiar one. Sees time like folded paper."
Felt blinked. "What?"
Subaru glared. "Thanks. That's not vague and suspicious at all."
Felt tapped her foot. "So what're you offering?"
Subaru held up his phone. "This. It's called a 'metia.' One of a kind. It captures memories, it's called pictures. Basically, it can capture frozen moments."
He activated it—click click click.
Flashes of Felt's confused face popped onto the screen.
She yelped. "What the—!?"
Then stared angrily.
"What did you do?!"
Subaru quickly showed her the pictures before she attacked him.
"Th-that's me?" She blinked in confusion.
"It's worth more than twenty holy gold coins," Subaru said. "Go ask your appraiser if you don't believe me."
"I will."
She spun and stomped toward the loot house.
Subaru followed. Lucien trailed behind, keeping five paces away, fingers brushing harp strings. While sceretly looked at the corner in the dark, smiled and continued following.
The loot house smelled like dust and leather.
Rom loomed behind the counter, massive and glowering.
"What now?" he grunted.
"Appraisal," Felt said, tossing the phone down.
Rom studied it. Eyebrows rose. He clicked a button. The image flared to life.
"This thing... is incredible."
"Told you," Subaru said.
Rom looked to Felt. "Easily worth twenty holy coins."
Felt whistled. "Guess you're not totally full of crap."
Subaru held out a hand. "So. Trade?"
Felt hesitated.
Then... slowly... she pressed the insignia into his palm.
"You better not make me regret this."
"You won't."
Lucien gave a soft nod. "And thus, the overture ends."
Subaru looked down at the emblem.
It feels cool. A bit on the heavy side, what is this made of?
Victory? Not yet.
But the next act was already looming. And the music was about to change.