Chapter Text
The immediate aftermath of the Pleiades Watchtower left a heavy silence over the sand dunes, but inside the carriages heading away from the Augria Sand Dunes, the atmosphere was suffocating. Subaru Natsuki was gone—swept away by the shadow along with Rem and Rem’s restored, albeit amnesiac, self.
Within her private quarters, Emilia sat on the edge of her bed, her hands tightly folded in her lap. Her violet eyes were fixed on the floor, yet her mind raced across half the world, trying to grasp where he could have been taken. The fear of losing him again burned, but beneath it sat a quiet, stubborn resolve. She had made a promise to protect her knight, just as he had protected her time and again. She would gather every resource the Emilia Camp possessed, enlist every ally, and drag him back no matter where he had landed.
In the adjoining room, Beatrice sat huddled in a corner, clutching her dress. The spiritual link between contractor and spirit hummed faintly within her gate. It was thin, stretched across an agonizing, impossibly vast distance, but it was unbroken.
"He is alive, I suppose," Beatrice whispered to the quiet room, her voice trembling with a mixture of immense relief and bitter frustration. "The foolish boy is still breathing... but he is out of my reach, in fact."
Further down the hall, Otto Suwen and Garfiel Tinsel sat together at a low table. The air between them was thick with unspent energy. Otto was frantically flipping through supply logs and map routes, his fingers trembling slightly as he tried to calculate search vectors while their logistics were stretched thin.
"We can't just throw men at the borders without knowing which direction the shade threw him, Garf," Otto muttered, his eyes bloodshot. "If he landed outside the kingdom's territory, moving an armed search party becomes an international incident."
Garfiel slammed a fist onto the wooden table, making the inkwell rattle. "Don't give me politics, Bro! Captain’s out there somewhere, probably surrounded by shit he shouldn't have to deal with alone! I should’ve—" He bit his lip, turning his face away. "He's the Captain. He always finds a way back... but it's my job to be the muscle that clears his path, damn it."
In her own small nook, Meili Portroute pulled her knees up to her chest. Having been taken in by the camp after everything that transpired at the tower, her feelings were a chaotic tangle. Subaru had given her a second chance when he had every reason to discard her. The thought that he was missing made her stomach drop, a unfamiliar knot of worry tightening inside her.
Ram stood near the window, her gaze fixed on the passing landscape outside. Her face was an unreadable mask, but her knuckles were white where she gripped her sleeves. Rem was back—her eyes open, her voice present—yet the boy who had fought tooth and nail to bring her back wasn't there to see the full reality of it. Ram worried endlessly for her sister’s confused state, but deep down, a sharp, quiet anxiety for Subaru sat right alongside it.
In his own space, Roswaal L. Mathers swirled a glass of wine, staring into the red liquid. The failure at the tower and the sudden displacement of Subaru Natsuki threatened to derail every contingency he had meticulously constructed. His Book of Wisdom was gone, destroyed long ago, leaving him to navigate the pitch-black darkness of the future without a script.
*If only we had followed the path laid out before...* Roswaal thought, a faint, melancholic smile playing on his lips. Yet, he had to admit to himself—however briefly—that the unscripted path Subaru had carved out had brought a strange, chaotic warmth to his dreary existence. It paled in comparison to his grand desire to revive his teacher, but the memories made along this absurd journey were not entirely devoid of value. Still, Subaru needed to be found; without him, the grand board was completely broken.
---
Word of the disaster at the Pleiades Watchtower spread quickly through confidential channels to the other camps.
Julius Juukulius walked through the halls of the Anastasia Camp's temporary lodging, his posture erect, though his amber eyes carried a lingering shadow of grief. Having endured the torment of being erased from everyone's memory only to fight alongside Subaru to reclaim himself, the loss hit him deeply. He felt a profound sense of sorrow for what the Emilia Camp was enduring. Yet, he kept his chin up. Succumbing to despair would be an insult to the persistence Subaru had demonstrated every step of the way.
Anastasia Hoshin sat at her desk, her fox scarf fur softly resting against her collar. She listened to the reports with a sober expression. Beside her, Ricardo, Mimi, Hetaro, and Tivey stood in quiet solidarity.
"The boy's got a knack for getting tossed into the deep end, huh?" Ricardo grunted, crossing his massive arms. "He'll pull through. He's too stubborn to die in some ditch."
"Subaru's gotta come back!" Mimi declared, puffing out her chest, though her eyes lacked their usual sparkle. "Who else is gonna make those funny faces?"
In the Felt Camp, news of Subaru’s disappearance brought a sharp burst of anger and concern. Felt paced back and forth across the rug, kicking a stray stool out of her way.
"That idiot! Why does he always end up in the worst possible trouble?" Felt snapped, though her voice cracked slightly. "Reinhard, we're helping them search. I don't care what the Council of Elders says, we're sending people!"
Reinhard van Astrea stood by the door, his head bowed slightly. The Sword Saint, possessed of power that could level mountains, felt a familiar, bitter hollow in his chest. "I apologize, Lady Felt. Once again, when a friend was in dire need, I was nowhere to be found."
In the Crusch Camp, the mood was equally grim. Crusch Karsten, still struggling under the effects of the dragon's blood, offered what official support she could, while Felix brooded over the logistics of recovery. But it was Wilhelm van Astrea who felt the weight most heavily. The old Swordsman stood in the courtyard, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade. Subaru had saved him from his own darkness, had given him closure regarding his wife, and had stood as a pillar of hope. The thought of the young man stranded in some unknown abyss caused a deep ache in the old warrior's heart.
Meanwhile, the Priscilla Camp remained largely uninvolved in these immediate discussions, preoccupied with the escalating civil turmoil in the Empire of Vollachia to the south.
---
Without warning, the world froze.
A strange, lightless luminescence enveloped the key figures of each camp. Emilia, Beatrice, Rem, Ram, Otto, Garfiel, Roswaal, Meili, Crusch, Felix, Wilhelm, Anastasia, Julius, Ricardo, Mimi, Hetaro, Tivey, Felt, Reinhard, Priscilla, and Al—all were engulfed in an instant. There was no sensation of movement, no displacement of air, no magical mana discharge.
In a fraction of a heartbeat, they vanished from where they stood.
---
When vision returned to them, they were no longer in their respective rooms, carriages, or courtyards. They were sitting in upholstered, terraced seats inside a massive, dimly lit auditorium. A giant, polished black screen covered the front wall of the room.
Instantly, chaos erupted.
"Lady Emilia!" Garfiel barked, jumping to his feet, instinctively reaching for his shields—only to find his forearms bare. "What the—my weapons!"
"My magic... I cannot gather mana from the atmosphere, in fact!" Beatrice gasped, clutching her chest as she realized her connection to the ambient spirits was entirely severed.
Reinhard stepped in front of Felt, trying to activate his Divine Protections. Nothing happened. The vast library of blessings he carried felt completely dormant, as if locked behind a thick vault door. "Lady Felt, stay behind me. My Divine Protections... are unreadable."
"What is the meaning of this insolence?!" Priscilla’s icy voice cut through the noise. She reached for her Yang Sword, but her hand met empty air. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "To pull me from my affairs without consent..."
*“Testing, testing... One, two... Is this thing echoing in your skulls? Perfect.”*
A voice echoed not from speakers on the walls, but from directly inside the minds of everyone present. It was casual, lighthearted, and entirely unbothered by the high-ranking figures gathered in the room.
"Who speaks?!" Julius demanded, hand falling to his empty waist where his knight's sword should have hung. "Show yourself!"
*“Yeah, yeah, hold your horses, dramatic knight guy,”* the voice responded with a mental sigh. *“I am the Warden. Think of me as... a higher entity overseeing this space. And before anyone tries to throw a punch or cast a spell, don't bother. Powers are off. Divine Protections are off. Weapons are in storage. You couldn't scratch a wall in here if you tried—just ask the red-haired miracle boy over there.”*
Reinhard lowered his stance slightly, confirming with a quiet nod to Felt that he was indeed utterly powerless in this space.
"Where is Subaru?!" Emilia shouted, stepping forward, her face flushed with anxiety. "Did you take him too?"
*“Woah, relax! I didn't kill anyone, alright? And I didn't kidnap you guys... Well, okay, now that I think about it, yeah, I kind of did. Lol.”* The Warden paused, letting out a synthetic cough. *“Look, let me break it down simply. I brought you here to watch something. Specifically, we're gonna react to Subaru’s past.”*
A heavy silence fell over the room, followed immediately by outbursts.
"His past?" Otto asked, bewildered. "Subaru's past before he came to Lugunica?"
"What kind of foolish game is this?!" Felt yelled, shaking her fist at the ceiling. "You drag us out of nowhere just to spy on Big Bro's memories?!"
*“Oh crap, do I really have to explain the mechanics?”* the Warden groaned in their minds. *“Fine. See that huge black rectangle in front of you? It’s a screen. It’s going to play events from Subaru’s past. And no, punching the screen won't change what happened, because it already happened. You just have to sit there and watch.”*
The cast exchanged bewildered, angry glances.
"A screen... that shows images?" Anastasia murmured, tapping her chin, trying to comprehend the concept. "Like a magical mirror showing distant events?"
Al sighed heavily from his seat, scratching the back of his helmet. "Man... the Warden is absolutely trash at explaining this."
All eyes turned toward Al.
"You know what this is, Al?" Priscilla asked, glancing sideways at her knight.
"Yeah, Princess. Back in my homeland, we had things like this. Not for recording real people's private lives, mind you, but for entertainment. You sit in a dark room with a bunch of people, look at a big glowing canvas, and watch a story play out. It's called a theater."
"A theater..." Wilhelm repeated softly, his brow furrowed. "So this device displays past events as if we were standing there watching them unfold?"
"Pretty much, old man," Al grunted.
"Can you bring Subaru here?!" Beatrice demanded, stepping toward the front row, her voice carrying a sharp edge of desperation. "If you are a higher being, bring my contractor to this room right now! That is an order, in fact!"
*“LMAO,”* the Warden’s voice echoed blithely. *“I mean, I *could*, but nah. Why should I? Honestly, you guys should feel lucky you even get to watch this. He’s taking a nap anyway.”*
"A nap?" Emilia whispered, her heart hammering against her ribs.
"Is the commoner’s life truly so extraordinary that it warrants my presence?" Priscilla sneered, leaning back into her chair with an air of cold indifference. "A commoner’s past is usually filled with trivial squalor. Though... if the world has arranged this spectacle for me, perhaps his foolishness will provide minor amusement."
Before anyone could retort to Priscilla’s insult, a quiet *click* sounded throughout the room. Heavy, soft-padded bands folded out from the seats, locking securely across everyone’s laps and shoulders, securing them firmly in place.
"What is this magic?!" Felix panicked, tugging uselessly against the restraint. "I can't move!"
Al stared down at his torso. "Seriously? You're putting seatbelts on us? Are we children?"
*“Well,”* the Warden remarked coolly as the ambient lights in the auditorium began to dim to pitch black, *“if you weren't acting like children, you would've let me start the show five minutes ago. Settle in, everyone. The viewing is about to begin.”*