Chapter 48: Cruel, Poetic, or Blind?

  Time seemed to slow as Dante’s head snapped back. A sigh seemed to escape from his lips, and his body crumpled in a heap on the ground. The skies cleared, but everyone was stuck processing the fact that Lady Meng had just shot Dante in the head. Ace watched from a distance as Lady Meng re-holstered her gun.

  She couldn’t have, Ace thought, dumbstruck. An awful throb radiated down his left arm. “S–She—”

  Kazuya’s shield, which had protected all of them from Felix’s flames, crumbled. He had collapsed into himself, teeth sunk deep into his palms as he rocked back and forth. The silence was broken only by Leonhart's wet, hitching sniffles

  Felix moved first, seemingly on Lady Meng’s instructions. He knelt beside Dante's body, hesitating for just a moment before sliding his arms beneath it. Dante's head lolled against his chest as Felix lifted him and began the hurried walk to their safe space. Lady Meng followed close behind.

  As Felix set Dante down, Ace noticed a ring of poppies circling Dante’s head and more noticeably, there was a deep red mark on his forehead. Blood oozed out from between the broken skin in crimson red beads. Ace sagged onto his knees, a wave of relief crashing over him. Seemingly reading his mind, Lady Meng clarified, “I merely used a rubber bullet.”

  “How did you—” Ace began.

  “Questions later,” Lady Meng said, cutting him off. She was still wringing her hands, thumbs pressing hard into the flesh of her palms as if trying to ground herself. “Any serious injuries to report?”

  Everyone shook their heads, but Lady Meng remained unconvinced as she eyed Jude warily. “Jude, your eye?"

  “I let too much Essence in. Will be fine in a bit,” Jude mumbled. “My father is not going to be thrilled.”

  “Good, we’ll need your help.”

  It was a simple statement, but it had everyone look at Lady Meng as though she had committed a crime. She sprang into action, yanking a compact first aid kit from the harness strapped across her chest. The metal clasp popped open with a sharp click.

  “Ace.”

  Ace's hands moved on instinct, catching the white object Lady Meng tossed to him. “These are Remora pads developed by Fourth Lady Meng. I hope you remember your basic first-aid training. These heal all surface wounds.” Lady Meng’s fingers were working quickly to unbutton Dante’s shirt. The fabric fell open, revealing a wound that had bloomed on his torso. It was the stab wound that Faust had inflicted.

  “Can I try something?” Felix asked Lady Meng, hovering over Dante.

  “It won’t work,” replied Lady Meng without looking up. “Don’t be stubborn about this.”

  What won’t work? Ace thought as he squeezed the Remora pads. “I just want to try,” Felix insisted.

  A soft orange aura flickered to life around Felix's hands, spreading across Dante's body like gentle flames. Dante’s body seized. Lady Meng's hand cracked across the back of Felix's head. The aura shattered instantly, dissipating into nothing.

  “Now is not the time to be an idiot!” Lady Meng berated with a pained voice.

  Felix stared at her, stricken. Ace stepped in, placing the unwrapped Remora pad on the wound. The pad glowed purple on contact, its edges cinching and crimping as it latched onto Dante’s skin. “Jude, place this one on his neck,” Lady Meng instructed. “Oh, his arm as well.”

  “What about his head?” Felix interjected.

  Lady Meng shot daggers at Felix. “And diminish my technique?” she jabbed her finger at the crown of poppies.

  “Sorry,” Felix mumbled, shrinking away.

  “Mr Higashino’s neck wound is quite deep,” Jude said, her voice flat. “Will the pads mend any internal damage?”

  “Our priority is to stop any bleeding,” Lady Meng replied. “We’ll let the experts take a look at it later. Do remember to convey your assessment to them as well.”

  Dante’s stab wound took longer to close, but when they did, his legs suddenly kicked out straight. Jude jolted, pulling her hand back instinctively. Ace reached out for her, but she shook her head subtly. She shushed him by putting a finger to her lips. Lady Meng and Felix seemed not to have noticed. The tension that had coiled between them had finally begun to ease. Lady Meng's shoulders dropped as she exhaled a long, shaky breath of relief.

  “All that’s left is his back, isn’t it?” Felix asked, grasping Dante’s hand gently.

  “Just his back,” said Lady Meng.

  Lady Meng grasped the ring of poppies, and their heads drooped. Her hand, steadier than before, pressed down on his uninjured stomach and applied slight pressure. Dante’s brows drew together, but he did not wake. When she drove a knuckle deep into a spot below his kneecap, he did not flinch. “Shit,” she swore as she rejunventated the poppies with a wave of her hand. “No pain response. He can’t walk like this. Leonhart, could you use Gauss to—”

  A shrill ringtone cut Lady Meng off. She pulled out her phone, and the moment she answered, a panicked voice blared through the speaker.

  “Meng Meng ah! What the hell are you doing?! The Public Serenity Meter in Yokohama is crashing! CRASHING! I can’t do this all by myself! The gas explosion news isn’t gonna last!” The voice was high-pitched, frantic. “Yokohama’s Beacon is down, and everyone is pissed! I CAN’T MAINTAIN SUCH A LARGE HORDE OF PHONE ZOMBIES! ALL BY MYSELF! MYSELF!”

  There was a loud crash, akin to a large mug falling from a height and shattering on impact. The line went dead. “Fanghua’s freaking out.” Lady Meng clicked her tongue. She rummaged through her pocket and produced a small vial. “Thought I’d be able to clean things up here, but I’ll leave it to you, Felix. Re-establish the barrier if you don’t want to get caught.”

  Lady Meng pressed the vial against Felix's chest, right above his heart. He looked down, then took it from her wordlessly. After that, she sped off on her motorcycle.

  Felix sighed miserably and placed the vial in his lap. He slid his hands into Dante’s pockets, producing sheets of bloodied paper. “Don’t you know which array he used?” Kazuya asked.

  The bottom of Felix’s left eye twitched. “I didn’t study all these formations.” He sounded almost helpless. “You wanna help?”

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  Kazuya took the papers and retrieved a notebook and pen from his pocket. The tip of his tongue poked out between his lips as he scrawled on it. “Here.” The torn-off pages flapped as he thrust them to Felix. “I reinforced the distortion elements so that outsiders won’t see us!”

  “Thank you.” Felix squinted at the array, finger tracing its lines as his lips moved soundlessly. White light shot from his fingertip, a red-orange streak coiling tight around it. The wisp spiralled outward, forming a new barrier around the hospital compound. “That should do it. I hope Meng Meng doesn’t have a hard time out there.” His shoulders slumped as he rolled the vial between his fingers. “Now, when do I even give this to Dante?”

  “Give me that.” Jude took the vial from Felix and popped it open. She immediately gagged like a sick cat. “Yep, Waters of Oblivion.”

  “What is that?” Ace asked, cupping his nose and mouth, trying not to breathe in the putrid fumes.

  "Waters of Oblivion," Jude explained, “is a tea-based painkiller the Mengs make to take mind, body and soul from pain. I swear they improved the formula recently to make it taste and smell better!”

  Jude studied the label on the vial, and her eyebrows rose. “It’s the old formula…”

  “That thing’s rancid!” Kazuya shoved his nose into the crook of his elbow.

  “He should take this now. The poppies are wilting very quickly.” Jude pointed out. “No one ingests Waters of Oblivion while conscious, either.”

  “Kazuya, I need you to pinch his nose,” Felix instructed. “Ace, open his mouth.”

  Ace placed one hand on Dante’s clammy forehead and gently tilted his head back. The fingers of his other hand found the bony part of Dante’s chin and lifted it forward. Kazuya reached out and squeezed Dante’s nose. Jude dumped the viscous liquid into Dante’s mouth, shaking the vial to get every last drop.

  The circle of poppies around Dante’s head wilted and disintegrated, petals browning and crumbling to ash. They inched backwards as Dante's eyelids fluttered.

  "Turn his head so he doesn't choke," Jude said quietly.

  Felix carefully tilted Dante's head to the side, cradling it with one hand.

  "Best to let him rest for a bit," Jude added. "He won't come around that quickly."

  Felix breathed a long sigh of relief. “I'm not gonna scold everyone here. What's done is done.” There was a weighty pause. “But why didn’t you guys call me?”

  “I didn’t bring my phone,” said Kazuya.

  “Mine ran out of juice,” said Jude.

  “I was busy,” said Ace.

  Felix turned his attention to Leonhart, who had been extremely quiet and sitting in a corner all by herself. She bowed her head, and her shoulders trembled. “Leonhart?” Felix pressed.

  “I was going to…” Leonhart trailed off. Her whole face turned red, and she pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. “Y-You need me for G-Gauss t-to bring D-Dant–”

  Leonhart started blubbering incoherently. “Leonhart?” The edge in Felix’s voice was gone. He stepped over Dante and crouched down in front of her. She started shaking and began to hiccup. Tears rolled off her face faster than her hands could wipe them away. A vinegary ball of guilt roiled in Ace’s stomach as he watched, his fists balling up on his thighs.

  Felix pulled Leonhart down and wrapped her in his arms. The sobs grew louder, but grew subdued as she buried her face deeper into Felix’s chest. “Gauss got destroyed,” Jude plucked the skin of her thumb as she explained on behalf of Leonhart. “It was the doing of that sorcerer that Dante took down.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help you?” Felix pulled away from Leonhart. “We could salvage—”

  Leonhart shook her head. “G-Gone…” Snot and tears mixed on her chin as she sobbed so hard she could only wheeze. “L-Looked… C-Core…”

  “Deep breaths. Deep breaths, Eulie.” Felix inhaled deliberately, setting his own pace. He cradled Leonhart’s cheek, his thumb tracing her cheek with the same rhythm. She followed, taking in shuddering breaths. “There we go.” He patted her cheek as her breathing steadied. “It’s easier to talk now, isn’t it?”

  “T-The core is broken,” Leonhart stuttered. “There’s only a-a p-partial backup…”

  “I have seen you do many great things with these wonderful hands.” Felix’s hands reached out for Leonhart’s, giving them a gentle squeeze. “You can rebuild him, can’t you?”

  “I don’t remember how I got this far with Gauss!” Leonhart shook her head. “I don’t remember—”

  “The Eulie I know keeps everything somewhere, right?” Felix asked. “The drawings in your notebooks, hm? Even the ones when he was just a small puppy?”

  Leonhart grew quiet. “B-But I lost those sketches a long time ago…”

  Felix smiled a tired smile. “If there is one thing I learnt from being an Elder, it is to leave a paper trail for everything I do. I backed up your drawings on Shun’s data system because of how carelessly you threw them around your workshop.”

  Felix rubbed Leonhart’s arm gently. “Just tell me what you need. I will pay for them. All of it.”

  Leonhart nodded and buried her face into Felix’s chest. “There, there.” Felix patted the back of her head. “Are you wiping your snot on my shirt?”

  “N-No.” Leonhart let out a tiny, wobbly giggle as she wiped her nose more vigorously on his shirt. Felix chuckled, letting her have her way.

  A loud, wet hack cut through the moment. Felix's head snapped toward the sound—Dante, convulsing slightly as his body tried to expel something. “He’s waking!” Ace exclaimed as Dante’s eyelids fluttered.

  Felix's eyes darted between them and Leonhart, torn, but his arms stayed wrapped around her for just a moment longer.

  It was Leonhart who let Felix go. “He needs you,” she said quietly. “I’m fine. Much better.”

  Dante let out a hoarse moan. His eyes were still closed, but moved beneath the lids like he was dreaming. Felix dropped onto his knees next to Dante while Ace sidled away. The more he stayed, the more he felt like a gooseberry. The rest followed his cue.

  “Can you hear me?” Felix’s hands hovered over Dante’s shoulders, unsure.

  Another moan, rougher this time, caught somewhere between pain and confusion. Dante finally opened his eyes, his gaze finding Felix's face. They sharpened immediately, and Dante slapped Felix’s hands away. Felix recoiled, drawing his hands toward himself.

  “A–” Dante’s breathing came out in short bursts. He was like a broken radio with a missing antenna. Ace watched the panic bloom across Dante's face. His hand flew to his neck, fingers pressing against the pad there.

  “Hey, easy! Take it easy!” Felix tried to push Dante down, only to be swatted away again.

  Dante's mouth opened, straining. What came out was barely more than air and blood, but the shape was clear: Ace.

  Ace moved closer. “I'm right here.”

  A broken rasp tore from Dante's throat. Ace hurriedly moved his hand to his arm—a pathetic attempt to conceal the absence of his armour. Dante flapped his arms, shaking his head. Grey beads rolled down his pale face. He was shaking from the effort of trying to speak. A droplet hit the floor—and a shout rang out.

  The tips of Dante’s ears reddened as he smacked a hand over the screaming droplet. “That’s… uhm… his stress sweats,” Felix said hurriedly. “I haven’t seen that in a while.” His voice softened. “Dante, breathe. Everyone made it out. We're all accounted for—you don't need to panic.”

  But Dante did not seem to listen. His chest heaved, and another drop fell. He ping-ponged between Enigma and his own shouting, flickering like static on a television. “It’s not that,” Jude spoke up. “He killed someone when he had no permission to.”

  “Silence.”

  The single word from Felix landed like a hammer. Jude mashed her lips together, but the truth hung in the air, tightening around their necks like a noose. Dante covered his face with shaking hands as sweat poured through his fingers, each drop a chorus of anguish.

  “No… permission to kill?” Ace whispered to himself. What about Executive Order 6210?! He wanted to ask, but the words got stuck in his throat. A seed of indignation took root in his mind. What fair trial does that murderer deserve?

  Out of all the punishments Johann Faust deserved, Ace was glad that he died in the worst possible way.

  Justice had been served.