Darkness.
It's not the suffocating darkness of sleep, nor the sudden black of unconsciousness. It's a presence. A space where gravity doesn't press and time doesn't breathe. The world has faded, yet somehow, Subaru remains. No sound, no scent. Just the low pulse of your heartbeat in your ears—until a new one joins it.
Subaru's heartbeat quickens.
She stands there.
Not the Satella who lied who about her actual name.
No… Subaru knows better.
Her silver hair flows weightlessly, as if the void itself is cradling her. Her violet eyes, usually masked behind sorrow, remain cast downward—ashamed, trembling. Her hands are clutched tightly to her chest, as if bracing herself.
Subaru: "...It's you."
The woman flinches at the sound of his voice.
Subaru mind races. A moment ago, he was in Emilia's arms—her soft voice, her concern. But this woman… the resemblance is uncanny. Identical, almost. But you know—you know—this isn't her.
This is Satella.
The real one.
The Witch of Envy.
The one sealed away 400 years ago for nearly annihilating the world. The one you're supposed to hate.
But your heart thunders in your chest.
You don't hate her.
You can't.
Subaru: "Why… why do I feel like I've known you forever?"
Her shoulders jolt—barely a twitch, but you see it.
The void around you stirs gently, like a breeze flowing across water. As if this strange place itself recognizes the reunion. As if this scene has played out before.
Subaru takes a step forward.
She doesn't move.
Another step.
Her breathing becomes shallow—still refusing to meet Subaru's gaze.
She's bracing herself. For anger. For hate. For punishment.
Satella: "If you wish to scream… to curse me… I will not stop you. If you wish to strike me, I will accept it. I deserve it."
She says it as if she's practiced the words a thousand times in solitude.
But instead…
Subaru embrace's her.
Arms slowly wrap around her delicate frame. At first, she freezes—utterly still. As if she's unsure whether this is real or some cruel mirage.
Subaru: "I don't know why I feel this way. I just met you—or at least, it feels like I did. But this… you… this pain in my chest when I see you like this… it's real. Even if it's not supposed to be."
Her hands tremble.
Satella: "Why… are you kind to me? I ruined everything… I brought you here. You were never meant to suffer. I stole your peace. I broke your life…"
Subaru's feels her fists against your back—weakly pounding. As if punishing herself for every word she speaks.
Subaru: "I should be angry. I should hate you. But I can't. Something in me… something just about you. Makes me feel something. And it doesn't feel like a curse. It feels like…"
Subaru falters, the words catching in his throat.
"...like love."
That silences her.
Then—quiet sobbing. Her fists stop hitting. Her fingers curl into Subaru's shirt, clutching like a lifeline.
Satella: "I've waited so long… So long to see you again. But I didn't deserve it. I thought… I thought if I brought you here, maybe the world would show you the love I couldn't. Maybe they would see the hero in you I always saw."
Subaru stays silent—only tightening his hold.
Subaru: "If you really feel that bad… then help me. Be with me. I don't know if I'll end up hating you, or forgiving you. But right now… I don't want to let go."
Her arms squeeze around you desperately, as if the mere idea of parting is agony. Beginning to cry again softly in Subaru's arms.
Satella: "I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you… even if you don't understand yet… I always have. Even before the stars aligned. Even before your soul disappeared."
Subaru paused —feeling something in his chest ache at the words. He want's to say it back.
He almost does.
But instead, Subaru lower his head and press a gentle kiss to her forehead.
Her breath catches—eyes wide, a pink blush spreading across her cheeks as she stares up at him.
Satella: "...Subaru…"
And that's the last thing you see.
The void crumbles like mist in sunlight.
And echoing in Subaru ears like the fading note of a lullaby:
"I love you."
----------------------------------------
The world returned slowly—like surfacing from beneath black water.
Subaru's eyes cracked open. The ceiling above him wasn't cracked or rotted like the loot house or tavern. It was smooth. Clean. A pale ivory with delicate floral engravings along the beams. Morning light filtered through soft curtains, casting a golden haze over everything.
He sat up—pain flared in his ribs.
A quiet breath hissed through his teeth. Not from surprise. Just reflex.
The bedsheets rustled.
"You're awake."
A familiar voice. Soft. Feminine. The concern in it was like warmth pressing against frost.
He turned.
There she was.
Satella—or the girl calling herself that—seated beside his bed in a high-backed chair. Her silver hair cascaded down her shoulder, catching the light like strands of moonlight. Her violet eyes locked onto his, wide with relief.
Behind her, standing like matching statues, were two girls. Maids. Identical faces, differing hair colors—blue and pink. Each wore a crisp uniform and carried trays.
He blinked at them slowly. Then turned back to Satella.
"...You still here," he said, voice rough with sleep.
Satella blinked. Then smiled gently.
"Of course."
He shifted his weight, slow and methodical. A scan of the room. No blood. No danger. No Elsa.
His shoulders lowered—barely.
"Where...?"
"You're at Roswaal Mansion," Satella said. "After you passed out, I... I didn't know where else to take you. And you were badly exhausted. I couldn't just leave you."
Her fingers knotted in her lap.
"You risked your life for me. For all of us. I had to make sure you were safe."
Subaru didn't respond immediately.
He looked at her—searching for signs of deception. But all he saw was exhaustion. And worry. And... gratitude, maybe.
"...Right," he muttered.
Satella hesitated. Then gestured toward the twins.
"These two have been helping take care of you. They're... well, they don't show it, but they're worried too."
The blue-haired girl gave a short bow. The pink-haired one just stared at him, her expression unreadable.
Subaru's eyes lingered on them. Neither looked particularly friendly.
"...Thanks," he said flatly, eyes already drifting back to Satella.
She leaned forward slightly.
"There's someone who wants to meet you," she said. "The owner of this mansion. His name is Roswaal."
Subaru raised an eyebrow. Not from recognition—just interest.
Satella went on, "He's... strange. But he's powerful. He's the reason this mansion's safe. And... he also wanted to thank you. Personally. For what you did."
Subaru's gaze sharpened.
"Why?"
Satella blinked. "Why...?"
"People don't do things without reasons," Subaru said. "Especially nobles."
Satella bit her lip. Her fingers curled slightly against her dress.
"I think... part of it is politics. But part of it is just who he is. He values people who act with conviction. Even if it's reckless."
That made Subaru snort softly.
"Reckless," he repeated. "Yeah. That sounds right."
He swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Pain rippled through him again, but he barely flinched.
Satella rose immediately. "Wait—you should rest. You've only been out for a day, but your body's still healing."
Subaru stood anyway.
He didn't speak.
He just looked at her.
And she understood.
He wasn't the kind of person who could lie in bed while questions went unanswered.
Satella gave a soft sigh and nodded.
"At least let Rem and Ram escort you. This mansion is... big. Easy to get lost in."
Subaru glanced at the two girls.
The pink-haired one—Ram?—clicked her tongue faintly, almost imperceptibly.
The blue-haired one—Rem?—smiled. Barely.
He turned to Satella again.
"You never told me your real name."
She froze.
Then, softly: "It's Emilia."
A beat of silence.
Subaru nodded.
"Alright, Emilia."
Then, without another word, he walked toward the door—moving with quiet certainty.
The two maids fell into step behind him.
And somewhere deeper in the mansion, a clown in nobleman's clothing waited—smiling behind painted eyes.
Guided through the sprawling manor by the twin maids, Rem and Ram, Subaru found himself led into a lavish chamber unlike any he had yet seen. The room was rich with color and eccentric design, walls covered in hanging drapes and geometric murals that seemed to dance when caught in the light.
There, in the center of it all, stood a man dressed like a harlequin noble, draped in an opulent robe of blues and reds. His long, mismatched eyes—one gold, one blue—were fixed intently not on Subaru, but on the items laid neatly on a side table.
Subaru's eyes widened as he saw them: his worn cloak, his standard-issue sword, and—"Wait—my mask?!"
He reached instinctively toward his face and felt… nothing.
The man turned slowly, already holding the object in question delicately between his fingers."Looooking for thiiis~?" he said, voice lilting like a song half-remembered. He twirled the mask in his hand once, then held it up like a fine work of art. "A delightful piece, wouldn't you saaay? Surprisingly well-made. A shame for such charm to hide those good looks~."
Subaru scoffed, stepping forward. "I'm flattered, really. But I'd rather have it back than hear compliments from a clown cosplay."
He reached for the mask, but the man pulled it just out of reach, still smiling that eerie, painted-on smile.
"Now now—before you taaake and dash, how about a chat? After aaaaall… I owe you for protecting dear Emilia-sama~."
Subaru froze, weighing his options. He could grab his things and bolt. The guy didn't look particularly fast. But that would be a dumb move. Subaru still didn't know how this world worked. Sure, people spoke Japanese—or something he understood—but their written language was nonsense to him. No idea where he was. No idea how—or even if—he could get back home.
He needed information. He needed allies.
So he stepped back.
Roswaal's smile widened as though he had expected it all along.
"Wise choice~."
Subaru didn't like this guy. Everything about him screamed performer. Theatrical pauses. That exaggerated tone. He was like a magician with too many secrets stuffed in his sleeves. A manipulator wearing the skin of a jester.
Subaru met his mismatched eyes. "Fine. I'll hear you out. But just know—I'm not some pawn you can toy with."
Roswaal chuckled, finally placing the mask back on the table."Of coooourse, Subaru-kun~. Let's discuss... deeeebts, fate, and perhaps... opportunitiiiies."
(It's crazy how quick I got tired of typing like that)
Subaru narrowed his eyes. He didn't trust this man. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But for now… he'd play along.
"Why don't we… talk a bit first, hmm~?" he said with a slow, deliberate drawl. "After all, I am in your debt. A very large one, in fact. So—let's make it formal. Name your reward, Subaru-kun. What do you want? Mone~y? Fame? Perhaps a title? Whatever is within my power…"
Subaru hesitated. He couldn't waste this. In truth, he didn't care for wealth or recognition—they were liabilities, not gifts, in a world he barely understood. What he needed was a foothold, a place to observe and learn.
And above all… allies.
His eyes drifted to Emilia, still standing silently behind Roswaal, her expression guarded but calm. She was the only person he half trusted in this unfamiliar world.
"I want…" Subaru said slowly, "to work here. At the mansion."
Roswaal blinked. For the first time, genuine surprise cracked his painted face.
"You want to be a… butler?"
Subaru nodded, arms crossed. "I don't know the first thing about your politics or magic systems. But I can fight. I can carry things. I can clean, cook… whatever. I owe Emilia for saving me, and I'd rather repay that with action than gold. Besides," he added with a grin, "you've only got two maids. Looks like you could use a hand."
Roswaal stared at him for a beat too long. Then, slowly, a wide grin stretched across his face.
"What an… inte~resting choice," he whispered, voice curling with amusement.
He turned his gaze to the pink-haired maid.
"Ram, be a dear and take Subaru's things to a room near Emilia's. And Rem,"—he turned to her twin—"take him to the dressing room and get his measurements. He works with us now."
Subaru squinted at the clown's too-smooth expression.
That was way too easy.
For a heartbeat—just a second—the makeup on Roswaal's face seemed to melt away in his mind, revealing a pale figure with a long face like a death mask, lips stretched in a glassy grin. The image wasn't his own memory… it was someone else's. One of the vessels.
The Pale King.
Subaru stiffened. He didn't get a chance to think deeper—Rem's voice cut in sharply, calling his name.
"This way."
Roswaal handed him the mask, bowing slightly. Subaru snatched it back without a word and followed Rem out of the room.
But his thoughts were swirling.
If he really saw HIM in Roswaal… then trust is off the table.