Solar Flare - Chapter 15 - YoungPyroDude (2024)

Chapter Text

Chapter 12: The Past; The Present

…

“Cereza! Wake up!”

The sharp tone cut through the fog of sleep like a blunt knife through stone. Muttering incoherently to herself, Cereza rolled over and pulled the pillow along with her, covering her ears. Sleep was wonderful and Jeanne was not going to ruin it this time.

Aside from the constant nightmares of Bubby and Daddy that plagued her at every opportunity. But Jeanne definitely did not need to know about that.

“For Mundus’s sake, Cereza! You agreed to this! Now wake up!”

A cold and wet sensation invaded her blanket and now Cereza was fully and wide awake, shrieking at the top of her lungs. The blanket was promptly kicked off and the pillow followed suit.

“Jeanne!? What the hell are you doing?”

The Umbran heiress, the Princess of Vigrid and, most importantly of all, her best friend stood at the foot of the bed with a smug expression. “You agreed to help me train for the trials that are taking place tomorrow. You promised you would be awake at sunrise to do so.”

Cereza let her eyes wander to the small window that Jeanne had begged the Umbra to give her. It still glowed with pale moonlight, but she could tell that dawn was fast approaching.

“Hold on; you said at sunrise. The sun has not risen.” She lay her head back down and began to doze off. “I can still sleep for at least another five minutes!”

This time the bucket of water was aimed directly at her face. Cereza recoiled and hissed, almost pouncing away in a cat-like manner. “Really!?”

“How many times has five minutes turned into an hour, then a day?” Jeanne lowered the bucket and waved her hand over the opening. It refilled with water and she gestured to it. “Now unless you really want a cold shower in your bed, for your sake I suggest waking up.”

Cereza stuck out her tongue, then lifted and peeled her nightgown over her head. A triumphant smirk broke out when Jeanne squealed and hid her face behind the bucket.

“Cereza! Have a decree of modesty, please!”

“What? Our uniforms retract whenever we weave; get used to the view.” She continued to disrobe and watched as Jeanne continued to become more and more uncomfortable. “If you can’t help yourself around me, what are you going to do around this girl you keep telling me about?”

A frustrated whine erupted from the heiress’ throat. “Cereza!”

She decided to finally show Jeanne pity, just to save the poor girl from further embarrassment. Covering her chest, Cereza waltzed across and gave Jeanne a friendly push out of her home/cell. “Now, now; I am a big girl. Let me handle myself and I’ll meet you outside, okay?”

Jeanne peered out from behind the bucket and gave her an appreciative glance. “You had better be ready to test me; I have to be prepared.”

She already was. But Cereza knew that Jeanne would not be satisfied unless she could fight Mundus and live, if not defeat him. Glancing out at the guards who still glared at her with displeasure, Cereza was very suddenly reminded that even if Jeanne succeeded with becoming the wielder of their most treasured possession, she was still to be the outcast.

Her role as Jeanne’s punching block would never progress beyond that.

“The show was for her, my friends,” she hissed once Jeanne was out of earshot. “Surely you can spare me some privacy now?”

The guards pointedly stared at her and Cereza inwardly grimaced. She found her ‘official’ uniform and began to clean herself up. Even if she was and continued to wear what amounted to rags, Cereza would look presentable.

Mummy and Bubby would want that.

…

“So what would be the best way to navigate a skirmish between stray Angels and Demons, given that you need to save innocents caught in the crossfire?”

Jeanne had started with theory, of course. The actual trials themselves generally did not include any written or oral sections, but Cereza knew that each trial was created to suit each taker. In the past, it had mostly been physical prowess with the odd logic puzzle thrown in if there was a particular crafty aspirant. Hell, if the tales were true then the current Umbran Elder had to battle an invisible sphinx. Jeanne’s mother had slayed the beast instead of answering its riddles, which had led to the almost permanent separation of the Desert Walkers and Umbra.

That relationship had been repaired in the following years between then and now, but it was only a matter of time before something broke it back down into mistrust.

So instead of focussing on her strengths, which she really didn’t have one, Jeanne decided to gift herself with a vast swath of knowledge to be prepared for any scenario. Cereza had duelled her, given her logic puzzles, and currently was quizzing her on specific situations in order to account for practically every possibility.

It was infuriating, if Cereza was honest. Her strengths lay with battle, not theory crafting or anything of the sort.

But Jeanne was very good at the whole theory crafting thing. Her answer, despite the dreadfully boring subject matter, was captivating and succinct enough to keep Cereza’s attention until she finished speaking with a bow of her head.

“But to be honest, the chances of saving that many innocent lives during a stray Lagunan or Infernal invasion is extremely slim. Adding in a skirmish between the two? The best action is to merely try to save yourself and sweep up what remains after a victor is established.”

There was a slight tinge of… something in her words. Cereza’s brow creased into a frown and she leaned forward, closing Jeanne’s notebook with a soft ‘thump’.

“Everything alright?”

“I-I’m fine.”

The smallest tremble and hesitation in that answer caught her attention. Cereza’s head perked up and she pointed a finger directly in Jeanne’s face.

“Ah ha! You are not okay! I caught you this time!”

Jeanne rolled her eyes and pushed the arm away. “Cereza, we have some far more important tasks to worry about-”

“Nuh-uh! We’re stopping-” she placed the book down on the bench beside her and placed her hands neatly on her lap “-until we figure out why you are sad!”

A sigh answered her and Jeanne stood up and began to pace around the rooftop. Why were they on a rooftop? Both disagreed with the librarian’s disposition, despite Jeanne’s study habits, and the forest was a no-go for both of them – if not everyone in general. The only place with any privacy was the only section of the Citadel with a walkable rooftop. Jeanne had claimed that it was used for repairs on the entire roof; while the presence of a locked outhouse shed… thing supported this explanation, she had never seen anyone repair the roof.

“I know what my trial is.”

That was a sur-

“Wait, what!?” Cereza stood up, spreading her arms out wide. “You know? Why are we doing all of this, then?”

“It is trial by combat, as expected by most of the gossip-mongers of Vigrid,” Jeanne commented bitterly. “I asked mother to change this, and I hope she does.”

“Huh? If you know your trial, surely this means you can prepare for it easier, right?” Cereza was confused. If she was allowed to take the trials to become a fully-fledged Umbra Witch, then any advantage to make them easier was welcomed.

But then again, this was Jeanne that had requested the change. It absolutely wouldn’t surprise her if Jeanne wanted something so hard that even Mummy couldn’t complete it.

“It’s trial by combat. Knowing my mother, there would be no need to bother taking a trial.” She sighed again and kicked a nearby bucket. It clattered into the wall and bounced back to be stopped by Jeanne’s heel. “Just like everything I’ve ever achieved in life, the role of the Holder of the Eye and Umbran Elder will just be given to me and not earned.”

“Is that necessarily a bad thing, Jeanne?”

The glare that Jeanne flung her way made her regret the words. “The whole point of these trials are for someone to earn their rightful position in the clan. What have I ever earned?”

“Bubby says that it-” Cereza began.

“Oh… stop talking about your ‘bubby!’ We both know he is not real!”

“Yes, he is!”

Jeanne held her tongue and breathed in to try and calm herself. “Look, I trust you with my life and you are my best friend, Cereza. But your tale of meeting your brother and mother to help defeat your evil father is ridiculously far-fetched. It’s just so…”

Jeanne rubbed her eyes and looked exhaustedly at the ground in front of Cereza. “It does not matter. Even if mother changes the trial – which she would never do – I will not have earned anything.”

“Doesn’t trial by combat require you to do battle with another member of the clan?” Cereza asked.

“We both know who would win against any member of the clan. None of our peers-”

Your peers, Cereza interrupted in her mind. We both know who they respect between you and me.

“-are strong enough to give myself a real challenge. There are a few who I would like to challenge if given the opportunity, but that is if I am given the opportunity.”

She seemed to be pointedly staring at her. Cereza confusedly returned her gaze with a shrug. “You do know that I won’t be anywhere near the trials? And your mother will throw the fit to end all fits if you even begin to look like you are considering me.”

“I know. That is-”

A very faint scream interrupted them both. The pair frowned and gave each other a quizzical stare.

“You did hear that?” Cereza was the first to ask.

“Yes. Whatever was that?” Jeanne glanced skywards. “I cannot see anything out of the ordinary.”

The scream echoed out again and now both acolytes were scanning the skies, trying to find anything out of the ordinary. Something caught Cereza’s eye and she pointed upwards to the left. “Look!”

“Cereza-” Jeanne’s eyes narrowed and she stepped forward, craning her neck to get a better view. “What is that?”

Whatever it was, it was falling too fast for Cereza to truly get a glimpse of. And then she noticed that it was falling towards them.

“Jeanne?” She began to back off, grabbing at the sleeve of her friend’s red dress. “Jeanne!?”

“Cereza! Get back!” Jeanne turned and grabbed her tightly, jumping them both over the bench. The object shattered through the outhouse, throwing objects and debris everywhere. Both girls kept their heads down and behind the stone barrier until there were no more sounds or potential projectiles to hit them.

Cereza went to peer above the bench, but Jeanne pulled her head back down. “No!”

“Oh, come on! What if it is friendly and needs our help?”

There was a flash of grey in her eyes, then Jeanne’s angry face appeared. “What if it is not and we need help dispatching it!?”

She rolled her eyes and jerked a thumb towards the ruins. “That thing just fell several hundred, if not thousands, of feet into a tool shed. If it somehow still poses a threat after all of that, we can run and get help. The guards are just downstairs, correct?”

“They are, but you know our little privacy enchantments are a touch hard to parse through. We would have to go and get them,” Jeanne answered, glancing away to consider a few things. Her expression turned from a grimace to acceptance, then she shook her head. “We would be dead before that happened.”

Cereza thought about it for a second, then widened her eyes innocently. “But Jeanne…”

“I cannot believe I am even considering this…” Jeanne quickly peeked over the top, then grabbed the remains of a nearby broom. “Okay, listen up. I will flank them from the left, and you can-”

“I’ll walk up to them and see if they need help. If you can get behind them, you’ll have a lot of advantage if they decide,” she dragged out the word to convey her disbelief of that proposed scenario, “to attack me.”

“What makes you believe they will not become aggressive?”

Cereza took a second to think, then returned to the same innocent expression as before. “I’m a cute damsel in distress who just got the Berial scared right out of her by a scary monster falling from the sky. If they have a heart, they would be ashamed that they scared me!”

“Or they would kill you without a second thought.” Jeanne scoffed.

“Do you really underestimate my skills to move out of the way?” Cereza asked, faking offence. “Must I remind you that you have not touched me in a duel in at least two years now?”

Her friend wilted down slightly, her nose bristling with annoyance. “And have I not done the same to you for just as long? Besides, they are stirring. I will be poised to strike the second anything goes out of plan.”

“So we are doing my plan?” She perked up, a grin on her face. “I’ll be very convincing, you’ll see!”

Jeanne merely rolled her eyes and began to creep around the perimeter, her heels leaving no sounds in her wake. Cereza watched her for a moment, then inhaled deeply.

Her gut feeling had better pay off. Ever since the body had landed, it had given her the very distinct feeling of familiarity. And she could not figure out why. Bubby had died long ago, Mummy was still imprisoned in the Citadel beneath her and Daddy…

Well, Daddy was evil. The less that was said about him the better.

Reaching up, she attempted to pull herself to her feet using the bench. It instantly crumbled in her fingertips and Cereza awkwardly fell onto her side. She didn’t expect the damn thing to fall apart! Surely Umbran architecture was a little more solid than that!

Maybe it would be if it didn’t have an outhouse explode onto it, but who cares!

Huffing with annoyance and rolling her eyes at the situation, Cereza jumped back onto her feet and stared down the now groaning figure in the ruins of the outhouse. There was no mistaking it now; something was very familiar about this person.

“Hello?”

The questioning greeting echoed through the silence. Cereza swallowed and took a step forward.

“Are you all good, good sir? You… fell from the sky and kind of… broke a tool shed? More like obliterated it, but I just want to make sure you are all good too?”

She hated how hesitant she sounded. But at the same time, Cereza knew this person. She knew who this was.

She just couldn’t figure out how or why she did.

“I’m going to check on you, okay?” Cereza announced, taking a slow step forward. “I’m just a little scared of what you might do to me if you are an evil person who wants nothing more than to inflict violence upon every person you see, but those fears are completely unfounded, right?”

“Stop blabbering and get to it, Cereza!” Jeanne hissed from somewhere ahead of her.

“Huh? Cereza!? Jeanne!?”

The voice!?

That voice!

That was the voice of a dead man! Well, at least she had witnessed him die and that was forever ingrained upon her memory but-

It didn’t matter. That was Bubby’s voice!

The man sat up, groaning and rubbing his temples with one hand. His wing, which hung off his back rather unhealthily (but in fewer pieces than she had last seen it), fluttered to expel some dust and then brushed some more from the tattered blue and red coat he was wearing. His pale skin shined with sweat as he shook his head, trying to clear some cobwebs from it.

“Bubby?” Cereza’s voice was barely audible to her own ears, to the point where she nearly tricked herself into thinking that she had not said anything.

Bubby’s eyes focussed on her, then widened. “Cereza?!”

And the moment was ruined when a battle-cry erupted from Jeanne’s throat and the broom came crashing down upon Bubby’s head.

…

The blinding white light that had expelled from Loki was finally starting to fade.

Bayonetta had glimpsed the boy gathering immense power when she noticed that Loptr had taken his attention elsewhere. She was barely prepared for the explosion that followed and settled on closing her eyes tightly and covering Balder as best as she could.

And praying that she wouldn’t be obliterated immediately.

The light burned through her eyelids and she screamed into her f- Balder’s chest, begging for it to be over. Given the state of her shoulder and the forces at play, it was a miracle that she didn’t lose consciousness or outright perish.

But now that brightness was dimming and the energy was dissipating, leaving just the small movements of Balder’s breaths and her own laboured ones. Her injured arm was sprawled awkwardly across his stomach, and a few tests made her grimly realise it was damaged well beyond use.

Using her relatively unscathed arm, Bayonetta lifted herself off Balder and slowly opened her eyes. The view that greeted her was something she believed only existed in her faintest of memories; impossibly tall trees, a clearing full of flowers and a small, decrepit building that somehow still continued to stand after long abandonment.

Avalon Forest. The place Mummy had deigned as ‘Cereza’s Clearing.’

And most importantly, her home.

The scenery gave Bayonetta far more than enough contextual clues as to where Loki had sent her. But the why and the when seemed more important and, given that Avalon Forest still existed and her old home was still standing, nothing was helping.

A weak cough brought her attention back down to the Sage and the curiosity died down into panic. The glaive was still embedded in Balder’s stomach and his blood was beginning to stain both his robe and the ground a deep red. Bayonetta reached out and grabbed the handle, instantly letting go as a bloodcurdling scream erupted from him. She had barely moved the damn thing!

Bayonetta managed to shift her weight until she was in a seated position, staring at this latest predicament with despair beginning to eat away at her. If she were to help Balder now, what the hell could she even do? That weapon was cursed to inhibit all who were not of his bloodline, but she fully expected that Loptr had lied and now Balder was guaranteed to die.

Just like her.

Time to join Mummy-

No!

She had to believe. Bayonetta closed her eyes and pushed herself back onto her feet, biting back screams of agony from the throbs aching in her shoulder. Her eyes did not leave the glaive; even if it was certain death for Balder, the best place for it to be was not embedded in his stomach.

Steadying herself, she reached out once more and very lightly touched the glaive. Bayonetta swallowed and very slowly wrapped her fingers around the handle. Balder did not react; she took this as a good sign and proceeded to rip the glaive out.

Bayonetta let the glaive go flying and immediately fell down to her knees, drawing upon her magic to call forth a healing spell. Placing her hand on his chest, she let the energy flow through him and prayed to Sheba it would work. More and more was pressed into his body and she started to feel light-headed.

It should work, right?

Silence answered her. Bayonetta frowned slightly at this; surely Butterfly heard? It wasn’t like the Demoness to ignore her, especially when she hadn’t pissed her off recently.

Had she?

Butterfly? Madama?

‘Who is this?’

Any hope Bayonetta had left dissipated faster than an ice cube in a desert.

I’m your contracted? Bayonetta? She reached out to keep the connection from fading as Butterfly tried to leave. We’ve been together about five hundred-

‘The only contracted I have ever entertained beyond my Cereza is the offspring of Khepri, and she was very quick to dissuade me of that notion. I ask once again, interloper, who is this?’

Butterfly didn’t sound hostile. Bayonetta had that small beacon of hope to hold onto. Swallowing, she bowed her head and decided to be truthful. Would there be consequences? Probably. She didn’t care. Khepri could worry about that later. It was more than she deserv-

She was getting off track. It was time to put her money on her mouth

My name is Cereza Onythyll. I am the only Child of Light and Dark to be born into this world naturally. I am your contracted, chosen by you.

Butterfly was silent for a moment. ‘And I am the Emperor of the Underworld. Do you take me for a fool, Bayonetta? Cereza is currently busy studying with her best friend Jeanne, not… whatever this charade is!’

Context! If Cere- well, herself was studying with Jeanne, then, there was… maybe-

Bayonetta closed her eyes and forced herself to take a deep breath. She had just established that the Witch Hunts had not yet occurred, which meant there was a ten- or-so-year period when she could be. Which wasn’t exactly helpful at all, but that meant-

‘Witch Hunts? What are you thinking about?’

I’m from the future! Bayonetta admitted. I’m Cereza from the future!

‘This is ridiculous. Tell me the truth!’ Butterfly roared. ‘Or be destroyed!’

Her arm throbbed and she broke the healing spell to clutch at the joint, crying out to try to alleviate something. Or anything.

Balder!

She opened her eyes instantly, expecting to see a fountain of blood pouring over both herself and the corpse of her f- him. To her surprise, the only blood that remained were the now-dried patches and the wound had healed over.

It had worked!

A laugh echoed through the empty clearing and she collapsed onto his chest. Now only one of them would die! And it would be her because Balder would-

‘What in the blazes are you doing?’ Butterfly interrupted. ‘And why are you so connected to me? I’ve never seen a bond this tightly intertwined in my life as a Demon.’

She ignored her, opting to begin planning the next step. Obviously, they needed to get inside-

‘Answer me!’

Because you are my contracted.

Butterfly seemed to consider this statement a lot more than her previous ones. Bayonetta bit her lip and waited for judgement to fall.

“Hey! Look! There’s someone over here!”

Bayonetta was only slightly startled by the sudden voice. Swallowing, she managed to wrap her arm around Balder and lifted him until she was somewhat carrying the man in an underhook grip. Each subsequent step towards the house was pure agony.

“Jernathan, this area has been abandoned for years. And not only that, the Umbra forbade anyone from living here just after the time it was evicted; who or what could be possibly here?”

The original owners of the house, maybe?

“Maybe it’s a straggler from the Clan Wars. You know what they say lives in Avalon Forest; monsters, demons, even angels!”

“The only thing that lives in Avalon is the mad Witch, Jernathan, and she knows to stay put. The Elders banished her and she doesn’t dare break that boundary.”

Mad Witch? Who were they talking about? Bayonetta could count on no hands the number of Umbra who had been banished, and the same was true for those who voluntarily left the clan. Rosa notwithstanding, of course. Perhaps this was a Witch before her time, or the Clan had erased all history of them to hide something; whether that be another crime committed or-

Bayonetta shook her head. If this Witch had been a mother to a Child of Light and Dark, she wouldn’t have been banished. And the Lumen would have crucified the Sage responsible for fathering them. And it wouldn’t make sense, given that she was the first and only Child.

“So… who is it then?”

There was a smacking sound of flesh against metal. “That’s what we are trying to find out, Jernathan! Let’s get looking!”

‘You are fatally injured.’

Bayonetta nearly dropped her father at that statement. It was one thing to know of what she was currently afflicted with, but to have it said so casually was confronting. Bayonetta swallowed and continued towards the house. Left. Right. Repeat.

Why do you care? she answered, not particularly caring that her tone was not exactly how she should be addressing one of the Madama. You never have. Hell, you’d like this, won’t you? Another soul of a Child of Light and Dark. You would have enough power to become the Queen of Inferno-

‘You seem to be my contracted. Only Cereza would dare be so impudent towards me.’ Butterfly paused, as if she was gathering her thoughts. ‘But I need to know.’

Know what?

‘That you are her and from the future. It takes a lot of courage, albeit misplaced and suicidal, to even address one of the Court. Sheba would definitely like you.’

Great? How do I prove such a connection if you know about it already?

‘You will know how.’

“Look! I found something!”

“Oh Jernathan, you did no- what in Mundus’ name is that!?”

“It looks like a sword. It must be a weapon!”

They had discovered the glaive. Bayonetta inwardly cursed at her forgetfulness and waited for them to turn and look towards the house.

“Hey you! Does this- what’s going on here?”

The witch halted and sighed. Lowering down Balder, she let him fall to the ground as softly as she could. The soft thump drew out a wince and she hoped that more injuries had not been inflicted upon the man.

‘You could have done that better.’

Shut up!

“Turn around Missy. Nice and slow.”

Bayonetta complied, raising her good arm in a peaceful gesture. She came face to face with two raised crossbows, handled by a pair of men dressed in the black and silver garb of the Vigrid townsfolk guard. She didn’t recognise them, nor did she expect to. Visits to the mortal town below were beyond rare for her specifically, and generally she was ushered along by Jeanne before she had a chance to linger.

That did not stop them from recognising what she was.

“sh*t!” Left Guard cried out, lowering his crossbow instantly. “An Umbra Witch?”

The other, this Jernathan, did not lower his weapon immediately. “An Umbra Witch? What are you doing so far away from the Citadel? And what’s this?”

‘What lies will you tell them?’

Shut up! You are not helping anything!

‘I can help. That is the whole point of our contract, is it not?’ Butterfly giggled. ‘All you need to do is let me help.’

There really was no choice. Fine. What do you have in mind?

“Answer me!” Jernathan shoved the crossbow forward.

“Answer us!” the other guard added. “If you harmed that man, then you will have to pay. To us!”

‘My power is yours to command. Let’s give them a show, shall we?’

It was a brief surge from her Patron, but it was more than enough to allow Bayonetta to summon a wicked stomp. She slammed it down behind the pair of guards and they reacted by jumping right out of their boots.

“Holy sh*t! What was that!?” Jernathan cried out, fear in every word.

“She’s a Witch! She’s dangerous!” The other guard then slammed the back of his partner’s head. “Let’s get out of here before she decides to kill us!”

With that they turned on their heels and ran. Bayonetta let a smirk upturn her lips before she turned away and began hobbling back towards Balder and the house.

It didn’t take her too long to reach the first stop and, once she regained her balance with Balder under her arms, not much longer to reach the second and final destination. The door was unlocked and she kicked it open with her left leg.

The layout inside was just as she remembered. Immediately upon entering what would be called living room, but now was, which had one long couch and two armchairs surrounding a small wooden table and fireplace. Connected via an arched doorway was the kitchen, which was also side-by-side with the bathroom. A staircase lay directly in front of her that, if she remembered correctly, lead upstairs to the bedrooms. All were covered in a thick layer of dust.

As much as he could use his old bed, the couch was far closer for her to place Balder upon. Stumbling across to it, she laid him out and fell to her knees from exhaustion. A good gust of wind would clear out most of the dust and allow her to work in a cleaner environment. And she knew just the person to do that.

“Damien, can you-”

Her voice died into a muffled echo that seemed to mock her in the remaining silence. Right. Damien wasn’t here. No elemental magic for her. Bayonetta was going to have to restore functionality to the house the hard way.

The tasks, as simple as they were, seemed insurmountable. Gathering wood, burning it, cleaning; how many tasks could she finish before her body gave out entirely? The pain in her arm was becoming excruciating and the loss of blood was beginning to leave her dizzy.

She was going to die.

…

Falling through a house was not on the list of events that Damien expected to occur today.

Neither was reuniting with Cereza, he supposed. But that was ruined by someone deciding to break a weapon over his head. Trying to shake off the dizziness, he listened in on the shouting from the other two with him.

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR!?”

“He knows us! He is a spy for the Lumen!” Jeanne was behind him. Therefore… Jeanne had attacked him? This wasn’t exactly a new development, but really?

Damien guessed that some things never changed.

“Jeanne, the Lumen have been extinct for nine years! Why send a spy now? Also, this isn’t a spy!” Cereza argued. “Let’s stop focussing on the spy part and start questioning why you have violent tendencies!”

An exasperated huff then was heard. “Well, who is it then?”

“It’s Bubby!” she cried out, then smiled widely. “My older brother.”

The stunned silence from the young Jeanne behind him allowed Damien to focus on what Cereza looked like. She was wearing a black dress with a gold trim, essentially a larger version of the outfit she wore during the adventure to Isla Del Sol. Considering the patchwork nature of the dress and the faded pieces of fabric that he could see, it wouldn’t have surprised him if it was the exact same one.

Her hair was done in the same style, with two braids that cascaded down her shoulders. He could see a red ribbon hanging around her neck in the style of a necklace; no doubt connected to her Umbran Watch as Bayonetta had given her all those months ago… years in the future?

Time was confusing.

And then Jeanne finally spoke up, her voice in complete disbelief. “That… thing is your brother? I have heard some ridiculous tales from your lips, Cereza, but this just takes the-”

“Don’t call him a thing, or a monster or anything like the sort! Sephiroth is my brother and he is the greatest!” Cereza interrupted fiercely, folding her arms with a scowl. “Why do you doubt me?”

Jeanne then walked into his field of vision, tapping her foot with her own look of incredulousness. She was wearing a long, red dress that hugged her figure, made of some silk-like material shimmering in the morning light. Her hair was wound into two buns atop her head, covered by a tiara-like piece of jewellery. It was a far different outfit to the couture she would wear during his time at Ithavoll Tower and the biker outfit she wore now.

If the was one thing to be certain, it was that both of them appearing so young was extremely weird. To be so familiar, yet so alien…

The Witch in red gave him an appraising eye and glanced at him, then back to his sister. “Cereza, you both look nothing alike. Either you are completely delusional this time or he’s adopted.”

“Is there something wrong with being adopted?” Damien fired out before he could stop himself.

The young Witch raised her eyebrow and gave him a hard stare. Her eyes were full of distrust. “There is not. But I can sense what you are, Demon. You are no innocent brother; you are clearly not human!”

“I am human!” He objected.

“And he is!” Cereza nodded. “Now apologise!”

He held a hand out before Jeanne could retort and make this whole situation worse. Damien glanced at Cereza and begged her not to speak. He wasn’t sure how well her mind would take a mental conversation, considering that Butterfly wasn’t aware of his existence yet and would probably want him out as soon as possible.

“Look, we can discuss my ethnicity or species or whatever another time; right now, I’m literally out of time. I need to get back to the future.”

Jeanne’s jaw went slack and she rolled her eyes. “Really? He’s your brother from the future? How does that make any more sense now?” She pointed at him with one hand, a broomstick held tightly in the other. “Tell me who you are, or I’ll..."

Cereza gave her friend a questioning look after her words had trailed off into silence. “You’ll do what?”

“I do not know.” Jeanne lowered her hand, muttering darkly. “But I’ll do something.”

“This is pointless. Cereza, do you know any chronoaenematic spells to send me forward?”

His sister’s eyes glazed over nine words into that sentence. “Uhh…”

Damien sighed and then returned his attention to Jeanne. “Do you?”

“Of course not. Chronologae is only taught to those who can handle the responsibility of returning to the past and not interfering with past events,” Jeanne shook her head immediately. “And there has been at highest two Umbra through history who have been able to assume that. And not only that, we can’t move forward to a future that does not exist!”

Each word was a crushing blow. Damien shook his head, his heart fighting his logic to retain hope. “But I am from the future! The future has to exis-”

“There’s someone coming!” Cereza hissed. “You two can argue and fight all you want later, but now you have to hide, Bubby!”

Damien then watched as Cereza ran and jumped onto the ruins of the building he had crushed, sprawling herself out as if she had been the one to do so. He blinked, then glanced upwards at the surrounding roofs of the building. Several stone gargoyles inhabited the buttresses around them; a perfect hiding spot, if he were to say so. He teleported to the closest one just as he heard a door opening and the shuffle of Jeanne’s heels.

“Miss D’Arc,” a strict voice called out. Three women – more Umbra, Damien assumed – walked into view. Two were dressed in black and silver with their covered heads bowed, whereas the central was dressed in a tarnished gold skin-tight suit that had black diamonds patterned across the hems. “Your mother- what in the name of Mundus has happened here?”

“We were-” Jeanne glanced back to Cereza, who was now putting on a huge show of climbing to her feet with great difficulty. “Practising combat. I got too carried away.”

This Jeanne was still not great at lying. But Damien noted how quick she was to put the blame on herself.

“You informed us that your schedule for today was to include studying theory, and only that. If you wanted to practise combat, you should have requested a far more suitable location.” The witch admonished with a deep scowl. Jeanne bowed her head in shame, but it seemed that the former was keeping their gaze on Cereza. “But if the abomination wasn’t your sparring partner, perhaps they would not have been so… clumsy.”

“Yivinne, I told you; I was too overzealous-”

“Completely and utterly irrelevant. An appropriate sparring partner knows her boundaries and does not push her opponents to a point where they need to start destroying the environment.” This ‘Yivinne’ then walked across to Cereza and kicked her in the side. “Useless whelp. How the Elders were even convinced to begin training you is beyond me.”

Damien remembered little Cereza telling him of her treatment inside the Umbra. Now, that was only a year into her life as a prisoner of the clan, but if what was unfolding in front of him was a daily occurrence?

Fury built inside of him. Cereza didn’t ask for her parents to be who they were. Cereza didn’t deserve any of this! A small voice inside reminded him that just because he was (debatably) on par with Bayonetta did not mean he could take on an entire clan of Witches alone-

Jeanne glanced up at him, seemingly sensing his anger. She shook her head once and turned to face Yivinne. “Leave her be. I think my victory over her will teach her the lesson she needs.”

Damien closed his eyes and willed himself to calm down. Fighting on behalf of Cereza wouldn’t do anyone any favours, and it seemed that Jeanne had far more experience in diffusing these situations.

“If you believe so, Miss D’Arc.” Yvinne turned around and Damien finally saw her face for the first time. She had an elderly appearance, but still had an unnatural smoothness to her features. Green eyes narrowed at the young heiress, but they didn’t seem they were suspicious. “Your mother brings a request for summons.”

“Mother wants to see me?” The very small catch in her tone betrayed the slightest glimpse of hope. Damien knew that Jeanne and her mother had a… weird relationship to say the least. Jeanne always spoke of her with adoration and love, but what she spoke of exactly never gave him the impression that Mrs D’Arc held her daughter in the same regard.

“She does. A short meeting, perhaps five minutes at best. The abomination can be left unsupervised for that time?” Yvinne asked coldly.

“She can, I promise. Cereza?” Jeanne called out, hesitating slightly. “Make sure all rules are followed and you remain here. Promise me that.”

That was an odd statement. Why would she tell her that?

“As… you wish…” Cereza gasped, holding her side with pain. Jeanne bowed her head to the Witch and the trio walked back to where they appeared from. She followed on at the end of the convoy and disappeared from sight.

Damien waited for the soft click of the door before he teleported back down. He ran to Cereza’s side and began to charge up a healing spell-

“Why are you doing that? I’m fine.” She pushed his hand away and stood up without any issues. “Still can’t believe they fall for that.”

“What!?”

Cereza flashed him a grin, then danced a little jig. “I’ve learned that the more I portray myself as a weakling, the more they leave me alone.”

That made sense. Damien felt a smile stretch out across his face and he followed her actions. “Well, if you are alright, want to go exploring? You can show me-”

“Absolutely not. Jeanne told us to stay here.”

“She did?” The smile fell from his face. “When?”

“Before she left. Besides,” she pointed to his wing. “How am I supposed to explain this to anyone we meet?”

“I have a spell that can hide my wing.” He protested weakly.

“We are staying here. The fact that Jeanne now trusts me with you means she probably wants to talk with you.” Cereza shrugged and walked towards the nearby bench. “So, I say we wait five minutes until she returns.”

“She trusts me? Cereza, how do you know this?” He followed after her, gesturing with his hands. “She was all about ready to attack me, not to mention she already has!”

Cereza smirked deviously while she took a seat. “You have to understand that Jeanne and myself have a special connection. I know her just as well as she knows herself, the same with her and me.”

She patted the bench next to her. “Now, you have to tell me everything.”

He took her suggestion and sat down. “Everything covers a lot. And I don’t know everything.”

“I don’t mean that, silly. How are you still alive?” Her voice trailed off into something inaudible. Cereza then latched onto him with a tight hug. “I missed you. You died and I missed you…”

A sob then wracked her body. “Why couldn’t Mummy stay? Where is Aunty J? Why did I get left alone for ten years!? Where is Uncle Luke?”

Damien froze up. He didn’t know whether or not to tell her the truth; sticking to the lie would be convenient, but he knew that Cereza would start seeing holes in the explanations very quickly. But the truth? Aunty J is Jeanne and Mummy is herself from the future? Uncle Luka is a potential romantic interest for her in the future and has absolutely no relation to her?

That was a risk he wasn’t willing to take.

“I guess I’ll start with explaining just who I am.”

…

Bayonetta collapsed against the wall, her shoulder screaming and begging for her to stop. Gritting her teeth, she hauled the bucket of water around and began to stumble towards Balder. Almost dropping the bucket when she arrived, she placed it onto the floor and turned to get a few cloths from the washroom.

When she returned, Balder was awake. He wasn’t looking at her, nor did he acknowledge that she was in the room again. The ceiling seemed the most interesting to him.

“I am home,” he said rhetorically. “How? Did I perish from his betrayal?”

“Loki saved us.” Bayonetta announced her presence and he instantly tensed. “Sent us both to the past.”

He didn’t answer for a moment, leading her to believe he was ignoring her. A light rustle of the sheets gained Bayonetta’s attention and she watched as Balder shifted to face her.

“Why?”

That was a loaded question. Bayonetta had the answer, of course; Loki had saved them from certain annihilation from Loptr. The question was whether Balder was aware of Loptr’s true intentions, and what the implications from there were.

She decided lying was her best bet. “I don’t know.”

Balder did not buy it at all. His gaze, cool and calm despite his situation, stared her down. “You do not know? Are you not his ally, his-”

“I have known the little one for all of five hours at best, Balder. If I knew his true intentions, I would have an inkling of them.” Bayonetta snapped, the brief spike of anger overriding her logic. “All he wants is to find his identity, and we found that.”

“Aesir.”

Balder did know some things. Bayonetta could almost applaud

He wishes to reclaim that identity and the power it holds.”

“Do you know who Loptr is?” Bayonetta asked.

“Do not change the subject, Witch,” Balder growled in return. “I know that he has a vested interest in himself, given he stopped me from claiming my revenge.”

Right. His revenge. Her own father was set on killing her for killing herself. Bayonetta very briefly fantasied about doing just that to spite him, but Luka’s face flashed into her mind’s eye and she swallowed.

“Let me rephrase that; what has Loptr told you he is?”

“He has not told me anything, besides of your deeds and of Loki’s plan to ascend to the God of Chaos.” He recounted his viewpoint with ease, leaving Bayonetta with no doubts that he truly believed it. Since when was her father a naïve man?

Well, ever since he decided to run away and impregnate her mother, regardless of the consequence he knew he would have to face, a small voice in her head answered.

“The legend of Aesir recounts that he split into two to create the Eyes of the World – the Eyes that we know we have,” Bayonetta spoke, trying to be forceful with her words so Balder would listen. She had her doubts and expected him to not bother. “One half is Loki, and the other is Loptr. He brought us together so he could take our Eyes and reascend himself.”

“Your impu…” Balder immediately refuted with anger, but it faded along with his words. His eyes found their way to the floor and stared at it blankly. “How do you know this?”

“Loki showed us his relationship to him. Then after Loptr stabbed you – you can thank me any time for saving you, by the way – he decided to reveal he was taking back his Eyes. Why else would he call them his Eyes?”

“I do not trust you.”

Bayonetta rolled her eyes and staggered towards him. “You don’t need to trust me, Balder. You need to believe me.”

“Do not touch me; I can fend for myself.” He snatched the cloths from her hand and began, albeit slowly, wiping the blood off his midsection. “And your words, despite the kernels of truth they may hold, are lies. Do you truly think you can convince me-”

“Obviously not. I shouldn’t have even bothered.”

Leaving him to his task, Bayonetta turned on her heel and immediately had to catch herself from falling over with her own momentum. Walking back to the kitchen area, she began to take inventory before Balder’s voice interrupted her again.

“How do you know my name?”

She seized up and had to grab the counter to stop herself from falling once again. sh*t. sh*t. He couldn’t know. The truth would either destroy him or he wouldn’t believe her; both ended with her death. “Y-you introduced yourself.”

“I did not. Do not continue to lie to me, Witch.” His voice sounded tired. “You knew exactly who I was once I lost my mask.”

Bayonetta began to walk towards the stairs. They were hidden from view from the couch, so she could sneak away from this conversation.

“You told me I murdered millions. You told me I experimented on people. You told me you killed me. He continued, ranting as if she was listening with rapt attention. Well, she was listening, just leaving the situation as fast as she could before it could spiral well out of control.

‘You have yourself in a very complex scenario, do you now?’ Butterfly chided. ‘I can-’

Shut up.

“I ask again, Bayonetta! How do you know me!? Tell me!”

She couldn’t tell him. This was the same man who thought that wiping out entire bloodlines and subjugating an entire country was fine. Even if he believed her-

He wouldn’t believe her. She should have let him die. His own magic would kick in soon and he would be fully healed. Then he could as he pleased.

Her body finally gave out and she toppled against the stairs, biting back on the pain that shot through her shoulder from the impact. She was going to die.

Luka’s face appeared, frowning and shaking with disappointment.

‘So this is how the great Bayonetta dies? On a set of stairs? That’s hardly a headline for any magazine!’

Bayonetta closed her eyes and felt tears leak from them, dripping onto the wood below. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything-

‘Well, here’s the thing, Cerezita. You ain’t dying here.’

His expression changed to one that she couldn’t truly decipher. Bayonetta thought she vaguely remembered Balder giving Mummy this expression, but she couldn’t place it. Or justify it. ‘You will survive this. We will see each other again.’

She wanted to see him again, above all else. If she was going to die then Luka would be the one that would be by her side. Jeanne and Damien could be there, but Jeanne would be in Inferno waiting for her and Damien was probably obliterated from existence by Loptr.

Bayonetta reached out and she could swear that a hand met her own. Letting their fingers entangle, she gripped on and pulled herself up-

Her eyes opened to no one. Leaning against the wall and trying hard to not let her disappointment crush her, Bayonetta began the journey onto the second level of the house.

She needed to deal with her shoulder so she could return to Loptr and force him to undo the curse. That was her only hope.

And that hope was her lifeline.

…

They had dragged her out of her cell before she had opened her eyes to the sounds of the door opening.

Rosa let them. There wasn’t really a choice in the matter; her powers were bound and locked with the chains around her wrists and ankles. No announcement or explanation was given, nor did she expect one. She had learned long ago that no one wanted to talk to her.

The journey was short. Rosa found herself being tossed into the centre of the main hall, surrounded by the crescent table of the Elders. Grimacing at the aches in her body, she tried to shift herself into a better position. Each movement gave her a glimpse of the room proper and, to her surprise, the chairs were empty.

A dry laugh escaped her. “Did you all finally decide to execute me?”

Silence answered her. Footsteps then echoed from her left and Rosa looked over to see Jeanne arriving with an entourage in tow.

“Rosa!?” She exclaimed, looking completely confused.

“Little one,” Rosa greeted with a smile, which dropped from her lips almost instantly. “Are you to be my executor?”

“Wha-” Jeanne then looked over to something behind her. “Is this why you summoned me!? To murder her in cold blood?”

“If I wanted to end the traitor’s life, I would do it myself.”

Rosa flopped around to see Marion D’Arc standing in front of her seat, leaning against the table. The Umbran Elder in all of her glory. Her deep purple robe flowed along her body like a river, twisting at the base of her neck to form an ivory crown. A skin-tight veil was placed upon her lips, but unlike her own it was used to amplify her voice and powers.

“Mari-”

“You will address me by my proper title, Traitor! Be glad I do not execute you where you lay for your crimes against the Clan. But I did not summon you here for that purpose.” The Elder’s eyes flickered to her daughter. “Help the wench to her feet. You both are required for this.”

Hands reached under her arm and pulled her up. Rosa found her footing without too much difficulty and stood at relative attention as blood flowed back into her limbs. Jeanne kept her arms nearby, but she brushed them off.

“Approximately five minutes ago I sensed three extremely powerful beings appear. The other Elder’s convened mentally and we came to the decision that, regardless of their allegiance to us,” her eyes hardened. “They must be eliminated.”

“E-eliminated?” Jeanne stuttered, obviously taken aback by the declaration.

“Are you certain they must be destroyed?” Rosa asked, giving Marion a quizzical look.

“They pose a threat. Uncontained, uncontrollable power will always come to haunt us. You, of all people, should know that.” She pointed a crooked finger at her. “But you, Rosa, are expendable. Two of them landed near your old home on the outskirts of Vigrid. You will find them.”

“And the third?”

“That is your role, daughter. The third landed here, within Vigrid, and you will find them.”

Rosa’s head shot up, alarms ringing in her head. “You want to send your daughter-”

“Silence!” Marion roared. “Jeanne is far superior to you, traitor; handling a powerful being will be an early test before her ascension tomorrow.”

She glanced over to Jeanne, and the teenager’s appearance was ashen. “Mother, I-”

“You have until nightfall. If you fail, your trial by combat will be your ultimate test.” Marion waved her hands and a red energy surrounded her bindings. They then snapped and immediately Rosa could feel her power beginning to return. She exhaled and began to search through her psyche.

Butterfly? Madama?

‘Rosa?’

The familiar voice filled her with a familiar warmth she couldn’t truly describe. Rosa couldn’t stop a smile from breaking out and she closed her eyes.

‘They let you have your power back.’

Is it not good to hear from me, oh mighty Madama?

Khepri chuckled. Rosa could almost see the Demoness shaking her head with disappointment. ‘Must I say the words out loud, old friend?’

I missed you.

“The reunion with your patron must be very sweet, but you have a job to do traitor.” Marion’s harsh tone cut over any conversation that Khepru could add. “I expect you to report back with their deaths tomorrow. If you fail…”

The threat hung in the air as the Elder swept her robe and made her exit, the two guards and– was that Yvinne? The Mistress-of-Arms merely upturned her nose and gave her no other reaction. The stone doors shut behind them and left Rosa alone with a now nearly hyperventilating Witch.

“Calm down,” were her first words. She reached out and gripped Jeanne’s shoulder, trying to get her to relax. “We can work together.”

“I- well, yes, we do.” Jeanne stumbled through her words, glancing to the ceiling. She was doing that a lot. “But the outskirts of Vigrid are several hours away; we cannot reach there in time and return to hunt down the- per- eurgh!”

Her behaviour was exceedingly suspicious. Rosa looked up, then back to Jeanne. “You’re hiding something.”

The Umbran heiress fidgeted with her sleeve made from exquisite silk, unthreading the expensive material with seemingly practised hands. A nervous tick. “Did you ever have a son? One that is a Demon?”

Her eyes widened with shock. “WHAT!?”

…

“So how did you not die?”

Damien chuckled at the wide-eye innocence, hiding his uncomfortableness behind it. That was a loaded question, to say the very least. He didn’t want to lie and tell her some random tale that would lead to a lot less explanations, but at the same time he knew that Cereza wouldn’t believe the far-fetched truth of parallel universes.

He was having trouble believing it and he was living in it!

“Well, do you want the whole story or the abridged version? Because the longer I talk the less sense it will make.”

Cereza sat down, crossing her legs and staring up at him expectantly. “I want no detail left behind. You exploded and died. I know you are very strong, Bubby, but Jeanne’s learnings have taught me that Liches are fiction.”

A few memories of Draugr from Tamriel flashed up and a smile broke out on Damien’s face. “Maybe not in this universe.”

“Not in this… universe?”

“So, little sister, what do you know of the multiverse theory?”

“Multiverse? Ummmm…” A thoughtful look appeared on her face and Cereza tapped one finger against her chin. “I think it might have been mentioned once or twice. Maybe thrice. But only ever in theories and Jeanne was instructed never to look into them.”

Damien raised an eyebrow at that. “But not you?”

“In their words, ‘the abomination is too dumb to even think about this for more than a minute.’ So I tried to learn more, just to piss them off,” Cereza’s shoulders sagged with a slump. “But researching theories that may or may not just be theories in of themselves was boring. So I stopped.”

“That sounds like the Cereza I know.”

The teenager giggled and shook her head. “I can be smart! I just don’t care for lots of reading with no immediate outcome! I hate research more than I hate Daddy, and that’s saying a lot.”

“But you are getting off track.” She prodded him in the shoulder. “You haven’t told me how you lived.”

“What if I managed to survive?” he answered with a grin.

“You blew up. You could not have survived.” Cereza’s voice went flat. “Don’t try to dodge the question, Bubby; just answer it.”

Damien mulled over the question for a few more seconds, then decided to answer truthfully. There really was no point in hiding it and Cereza was going to find out eventually anyway. “I did die. But, when your mother and Aunty J placed you back in your proper place in the timeline, she split it in two and created a parallel dimension. One where you saved me instead of watching me die.”

“I did?” She lowered her head and rested it on her knees. “And it created a separate universe?”

“That’s what I’ve been told. It’s believable, but I can’t just wrap my head around it completely. And hell, I’ve been to other universes!” Damien sighed, letting out a little part of the frustration that had been building up ever since Khepri had revealed the truth.

“If you have been to… other universes,” Cereza hesitantly started. “Then why is creating another one such a far-fetched idea?”

The truth was all he was going to give her. “Because the person who explained this all modified my memory. And how can I believe that?”

Cereza looked up; her face was slightly pale and her lips were quivering. “That’s fair enough. But…”

“But?”

“Which universe are we in? The one where you live? Or the one where you die?”

Damien chuckled and leaned back. “Honestly? I’m surprised you are taking all of this so well. But considering that the universe where I live is the one where you remember my death, it seems that you are on the right track to keep me alive. So, we have nothing to worry about.”

“If you say so,” she whispered, then glanced over to the doorway. “Jeanne’s coming back!”

He smiled. Good. Now he could start explaining parts of the future to them.

The brief moment of excitement fell before Damien could begin planning. “There’s someone with her.”

The door opened and Damien’s senses were assaulted with the familiar sensation of the Umbran heiress. She stepped through first, looking back through at the (obvious) person following her.

Then Bayonetta’s duplicate stepped through as well and Damien performed a double-take. She was wearing a skin-tight veil across her face, along with more skin-tight clothing as his sister would wear in the near future. Unlike that time, the catsuit flared out to reveal a red trim underneath the sleeve. The colour of the suit was also a lot darker and glossier than Bayonetta’s.

Their eyes met and Damien froze. He had never met this woman, but he knew exactly who this was. Cereza’s voice snapped him out of his reverie with an excitement that eclipsed when they reunited. And that was understandable.

“Mummy!”

…

“Cereza!”

Rosa abandoned all pretences of regalness and ran at her daughter, meeting her with a tight embrace. Cereza reciprocated and the two stood there in each other’s arms, enjoying this reunion. The last time she had seen her was three years ago, when Cereza had undergone the Patron Ritual; she had changed quite the amount since then.

“You’ve grown up.” Rosa pushed her back and just let her eyes wander over Cereza’s features. “All without me.”

“I’m sorry-”

“Hush, little one. It is never your fault.” She pursed her lips into a smile. “How has Jeanne been keeping you?”

Cereza beamed, a ray of sunshine in the early morning. “She’s been the greatest friend I could ever ask for!”

Rosa could feel the muscles tensing and disappointment excluding from Jeanne. Poor girl. She had confided with her only a few days ago and it seemed that her small advice to confess had never occurred. Cereza was still completely oblivious to everything around her.

“That is very good indeed.” Rosa tilted her head to the young girl next to her. “And has she been behaving?”

“The perfect portrait of good behaviour, Ma’am,” Jeanne answered with a perfectly straight face.

Khepri burst into laughter. Rosa turned to Jeanne and raised an eyebrow, noting just how concentrated she was on keeping that straight face.

“Maybe a few misdemeanours,” came the reluctant admission.

“What exactly have you done, my daughter?”

“It is far more appropriate to ask what she has not done…” Jeanne muttered under her breath.

“Hey! It wasn’t that bad! I only may have pranked the Umbran Elder once or twice… Or unleashed a few Devils into the bathrooms…” Cereza objected. “Nothing too serious! Or dangerous.”

That’s my daughter, Rosa smirked inwardly. Outwardly, she glared at her. “Cereza, you know you need to keep to the laws of this clan. You absolutely cannot afford to slip up-”

“Wait, you unleashed the Trismagius last year?” Jeanne exclaimed. “You did that?”

“They would have to know it was me if I want to slip up,” Cereza nodded to her friend with a sly smirk. “The only reason Jeanne knows I’ve done anything if I needed her help for anything in particular.”

Her face then scrunched into confusion. “Wait… why are you out of your cell? Weren’t you supposed to be locked away forever?”

“Marion summoned me.” Rosa felt there wasn’t any good reason to withhold the truth from her. “I am expendable in the eyes of the Umbra, so I have been dispatched to take care of a threat.”

“A threat!?” Cereza cried out. “Mummy, you are still recovering! You can’t be expected to hunt anything without your full power!”

She smiled at that. “I’ll be fine. By the time I meet any of these ‘threats’, I will have recovered.”

“My mummy felt three powerful presences appear in and around Vigrid.” Jeanne very pointedly looked over Cereza’s shoulder. “One of them is behind you.”

Confusion flashed in her eyes “Bubby?”

Rosa’s eyes followed Jeanne’s gaze and her mouth opened slightly at the sight. Khepri was completely silent; that was the concerning part. Normally, her patron would have some sort of quip or comment that would follow such an… interesting sight.

‘What in Mundus’ name is he doing here!?’

You know him!?

‘He- he- he can’t be here! He can’t be!’

What are you talking about?

There was no answer; it seemed Khepri had retreated back into her realm. Rosa was actually rather surprised by this outcome, but given the Madama’s reaction it wasn’t wholly unexpected. Just who was this person to sow such confusion and distress in the most implacable being she knew?

He didn’t look a day older than twenty, if Rosa was willing to bet anything on it. But those eyes carried weight within them of someone far older. She had seen the exact look in many of her former friends and family, and with them she had also seen first-hand the experiences that aged them beyond their years.

His features were sharp, reminding her of Balder. But unlike Balder, there was a strange unnaturalness to them. Like… they were mimicking humanity and not representative of it. The giant wing that drooped down from above his right shoulder was definite proof, but Rosa was hesitant to label this ‘Bubby’ a monster.

And just what was a ‘Bubby’ anyway?

“Cereza,” she motioned to her daughter, eyes not leaving the man. “Who is this?”

“This is Bubby? Don’t you recognise him?”

“I do not.” Rosa’s eyes narrowed and the man took a small step back. His own were beginning to dart around, obviously now trying to find a means of escape. Besides the long fall down the walls of the Citadel, there wasn’t any. “I have never met a man like this in my life. And trust me, I would remember someone like this.”

“Cereza claims this is her brother,” Jeanne announced from beside her. “She met him-”

‘WHAT DID SHE JUST SAY?’

“What did you just say?” Rosa hissed, whirling around to the Umbran Princess. “A brother? A brother??? I do not have a son!”

“That is what I thought as well! As far as I know, you only ever sired one child and she is standing right there,” Jeanne pointed to the distressed Cereza. “Not some… freak with a wing!”

“Don’t call Bubby a freak! He saved Mummy and me from Daddy!” Her daughter snapped, running forward and holding her arms out protectively in front of the man. “Daddy wanted to hurt everyone and Bubby sacrificed himself so you could stop him!”

Rosa tensed up, making sure her confusion and anger didn’t immediately spill out upon her daughter. What in the nine circles of Inferno was she even talking about? Balder had been the one to take the far harsher punishment of the two, the one to try and stage a distraction so they could make their escape, had risked everything for them. Had she found some grandeur delusion to trick herself into explaining why Balder was an absent father figure?

She could suppose that the Umbra could have fed Cereza lies to turn her against Balder, but that did not explain the appearance of a brother. Did Marion create some… thing to keep Cereza in line? That did not seem like a stunt she would pull, given that Marion hated anything that wasn’t in her control, but at this point Rosa did not put anything past her.

Butterfly does not grant the gift of foresight, she wondered to Khepri. Doesn’t she?

Her patron was unusually quiet.

She does!?

‘She doesn’t. But the words Cereza are speaking are not lies.’ Khepri solemnly answered. ‘But as I mentioned earlier; this is all wrong.’

Rosa narrowed her eyes at that. You are telling me that my daughter accusing the love of my life of being a genocidal maniac is wrong? Oh, and I kill him? That’s wrong too?

‘Don’t be so sarcastic. What I mean,’ Khepri prodded her to look back at the mystery man – who had still yet to utter a single sound – and she began to analyse him a little more. ‘Is he should not be here. Or anywhere near here.’

What exactly do you mean by that?

That was when something clicked inside Rosa’s mind. Those features of the boy didn’t just remind her of Balder; practically the only reason they did was because he was a pale man with a slim build. Beyond that, there was a very eerie similarity to a woman she knew; a woman that had to assume a human form to not cause distress in a young Cereza.

‘Ask him his name.’

There was a strange tenderness, yet hopeful, to those words. Rosa pointed at the boy and paraphrased them: “You; what is your name?”

“Sephiroth, Mummy!” Cereza piped up. “His name is Sephiroth and he is my brother!”

‘Lie!’

A cry escaped her and Rosa briefly lowered her head in pain. One hand reached up and began to massage her temple and she tried to compartmentalise it. What was that for?

‘He does not have that name! That name does not belong to him!’

“My name is Damien Luegray.”

The man’s voice was soft, but yet Rosa could hear every bit of tension in his body within them. But within the voice was a layered mystery; she could hear something echoing out, like three voices were speaking instead of one. One was deep and gravelly while the other was light and joyful, an interesting dichotomy. A possessed human sounded exactly like that.

But yet…

Rosa reached out with her other senses and tried to get a feel of the boy. Tremendous power, untamed and wild, greeted her along with the presence of-

Her mind immediately retreated and she put all of her attention onto her Patron.

Khepri; are you going to explain to me why you are possessing a boy!?

‘That is not just any mere boy.’

The explanation was brief; four more words were all her patron offered. But those words were the largest shock of her life.

And everything finally made sense.

‘Would you like to know what I know of his history then?’

Make it very quick.

…

Rosa was a woman that existed only in Damien’s knowledge of Bayonetta. He had no real clue what she looked like, who she was as a person; literally all he had for reference for her was ‘she is Bayonetta’s mother.’

Which, by extension, made her his mother in a weird sense that was only applicable from the logic of Bayonetta being his sister.

But Damien never really had considered that. Khepri had told him at one point that she knew his true father, which meant she had a vague idea of his true mother. Bayonetta herself didn’t put that connection together either, opting to keep the possibility of finding his true parentage open to hope.

But with every passing month, even with the Devil May Cry crew helping them scour all of Balder’s former strongholds, there had been nothing. No new information of who the now-deceased Luegray family consisted of – besides a family in Australia that could not have sired him. And even with that hope fading, Bayonetta still had not asked him to consider Rosa his mother. That was the ultimate line to cross if he wanted to forget about his original family.

She was standing there, a myriad of expression rushing over her face. This was the woman who had given him both his Umbran heritage and his patron, both unwillingly, and yet he could not think of a single thing to say.

Rosa beat him to the punch before he could start blabbering to fill the silence. “I’m… amazed, to be honest.”

“Amazed about what?”

“Of everything that you have endured. Somehow you have the strength to keep standing.” She folded her eyes and let her gaze trail up and down his body. “You were an experiment. Correct?”

“How did-”

“Khepri told me.”

“You trust that… Demon!?” he fired back, rolling his eyes. “Did she tell you about the part where she ripped apart my memories? Allowed Ba- A monster to tear me apart for her specific benefit? Ruined her-” his finger landed onto Jeanne. “Life for no reason other than ‘it was necessary?’ Clearly you have some problems if you consider that thing trustworthy!”

“Wait, what happened to me?” Jeanne spoke up, confused. Damien, along with everyone else, ignored her.

“She told me that you are hurting,” Rosa whispered. She took a step forward and Damien immediately retreated. “You feel as if you have no place to belong.”

“Well, who’s fault is that? Maybe if Khepri had protected my family I’d have somewhere to belon-”

‘I did!’

The sudden cut-in of his patron’s voice caused him to flinch and turn away from the three Witches. You can shut up. You let them die so all I would have left is you!

‘Your mother is still alive.’

This was not the first time this revelation had come forward. Damien snorted and glared at a gargoyle in the distance. Great. Who is she?

The silence was enough of an answer.

“Bubby, Mummy is your Mummy,” Cereza spoke up, uncertain with her choice of words. “Why do you not see it?”

“You physically share my bloodline, do you not? I know that the finer details are something I am wholly… unfamiliar with, but I can feel our connection. You are my son as much as you are her brother.”

Rosa gripped his shoulder and pulled him around to meet her gaze. “You are hurting; I don’t need a diviner to see that.”

A sob escaped his throat before he could calm himself. Damien decided to address what Rosa had called him mere moments ago. “I’m not that strong. I’m barely standing as is.”

“Mummy can help! She’s the strongest Witch around!” Cereza appeared at his left, her bright face bringing a small smile on his lips.

“Rosa also is the wisest woman I know. This does not sound like a problem that can be solved with just fists.” Jeanne walked in from his right. “She can help.”

“Why do you trust me now?” Damien put his attention onto the heiress.

“Because you were willing to take on the entire Clan for her. I could sense just how infuriated you were with their comments towards Cereza.” Jeanne glanced to the side and shrugged. “You are either the dumbest person I have met or you truly are her brother, and you do not strike me as an idiot.”

Present Jeanne would have given him an earful on if she learned that he wanted to fight an entire coven of Umbra. Damien was very glad that younger Jeanne had not progressed with her personality to that point. He nodded in appreciation and then took a step back.

“I’d rather not be surrounded by people I don’t really know-”

Rosa yanked him back, then forcefully sat him down. “Sit down and be quiet. Stop stalling.”

Jeanne and Cereza copied the action and crossed their legs, waiting for Rosa to start this interrogation.

“What ails you?” she started, kneeling down and placing her hands on her thighs. “Do not spare any details.”

“I…” His eyes glanced towards Jeanne and he instantly remembered everything that was still going on in that girl’s life. There was absolutely no way he could tell them the entire tale with every detail. “I feel lost.”

“Lost? But you-”

“Cereza, let him explain.” Jeanne stopped her with a hand. “If you are from the future, then I imagine that you know of both Cereza and myself future selves?”

“Yes,” he admitted.

“Did something happen to us?”

“It’s a lot more complicated than that.”

“How?”

Her piercing gaze had not changed. If anything, it was far more potent in her younger years. Damien swallowed and tore himself away from it. “You are dead. Cereza and myself are currently trying to save you.”

Jeanne now looked very uncomfortable. “Oh.”

“That’s an understatement.” Rosa frowned with disapproval. “You should not be giving fates to those who do not ask for it.”

“Why? So they’ll try to break them? My enemy is someone who plans to take advantage of the future; that’s why Khepri took away my memories,” Damien fired back. “She wanted me to remember events that had not occurred in this timeline.”

Realisation then spread across her face and Rosa fell onto her backside. “Now everything seems to make a lot more sen-”

She straightened up and closed her eyes. “She wants to talk to you.”

“I don’t want to talk to her. Tell her-”

Rosa’s eyes reopened and they were glowing green. “You do not a get choice in this matter, child. PDEE BARMA!”

Unlike his own summoning, Rosa’s incantation whipped the shadows into a frenzy. They gathered into a tornado that rose up from the ground, clearing to reveal a familiar green-skinned Demon. Her gaze flittered between everyone, acknowledging each with a devious smile.

“Oh, it has been too long since I have breathed the air of the mortal realm.” She inhaled deeply and twirled in place. “I-”

“How old are you again? You act like this every time,” Rosa admonished with a fold of her arms. Trails of hair returned to her, slipping underneath her clothing without a trace. “Besides, you have a-”

“I know.”

Khepri settled her gaze on him and he immediately felt a flow of emotions from the Madama. Her eyes narrowed slightly and something began to burrow into his mind. Damien snarled at the intrusion and raised his mental defences until they were impenetrable.

“Don’t do that.”

He merely strengthened them further. “I don’t trust you.”

Khepri looked down at his chest and raised an eyebrow. “Let me correct you, little one; you do not trust her. I am someone a little different.”

“You are not different. Are you not Madama Khepri?” Damien shot back. It was simply insulting to act as if the same person was somehow different. Especially since nothing about her had changed!

“I have seen the next six hundred years as visions and plans. She experienced and has a personal affiliation with all of them. Of course she has her own biases that guide her actions beyond their original design.” The Madama lifted the skirt of her dress and lowered herself into a seated position. “But you won’t see beyond that.”

“Six hundred years!?” Jeanne cried out. “You came here from six hundred years in the future? That’s ridiculous!”

“It’s the truth. You are born on the twenty-ninth of February, nineteen eighty. You are forty years old, with memories of only your last nineteen. Your family was ripped away with you, with your blood and genetics swapped into those of the Onythyll’s. Demons and Angels also make up your being, with their powers and abilities added to your own formidable arsenal.” Khepri stared him down, reciting his history with a chilling ease. Damien should have known this was to be the case; after all, she was a diviner. Knowing the future was part of her job description.

But he frowned, nevertheless. There was a detail, very casually dropped, that stuck out to him; “Since when did you know my true birth date?”

“You broke out of a prison you lived in for eighteen years, then found your sister and regained as much of your identity as you could, including awakening your true form,” Khepri ignored his question and turned to Cereza. “You met him again and travelled to the old home of the Lumen Sages, where you met your creator, Balder.”

Rosa visibly tensed up. She shook her head and began to pace around, her movements agitated and restless.

“From there, everything becomes a bit more blurred. Do you live? Do you die? It all depends on the universe you are in.” Khepri raised an eyebrow. “And this is where I expect her feelings got in the way of our plan.”

“Your plan? You mean that she took away my memories because she had feelings?” Damien felt outraged- no, he was outraged. Khepri had adjusted his memories because it was a part of a plan – to say there was another reason that didn’t make any reasonable sense was an absurdity!

“Yes. I have memories of three timelines inside of my mind. I know you intimately and better than the back of my hand.” She splayed out a palm and deliberately checked over her hand, drawing a giggle from Cereza. “But I only know you from memories I have not formed. The me that dwells within has lived with you, known you truly, for your entire life. To give up that and learn a new you because of her meddling to your sister would break her heart.”

The fury grew, then Damien considered the meaning behind those words. He had been told by Khepri that she had done it to make sure everyone’s memories were the same, but now he was thinking logically; there was no reason to keep everyone’s memories the same. As long as the key players knew the plan, Khepri could have just let everyone go along with their life as is. No one would need to have previous memories.

“I would believe you, but the multiverse is a theory. Whatever plan you speak of is absolutely incredulous!” Jeanne broke through his musing with a cry. “This all seems ridiculous!”

“I will be the first to tell you that this being ridiculous is the least of our worries. There’s not much that can surprise me,” Rosa spoke up. “Avalon Forest-”

“Is just a myth made up to scare small children to stay here at night,” Jeanne fired back.

“Does anyone ever come out of Avalon alive?” Cereza questioned.

“No one goes in because they are too scared to. So, no one can come out.” Jeanne turned back to Khepri with a raised eyebrow. “What is the true story, then?”

“That is the truth. Either you believe it or follow your own lies,” the Madama said impassively. “Five universes exist; The Alphaverse, Tamriel, The Lands Between, Drakenguard and Kathreftis Sympan. Of them, our own is the most peculiar due to one thing; time-travel.”

“Time travel?” Rosa questioned.

“Indeed. Our realm is the only one with the comprehension and sheer power to pull off time-travel – our proof is you, sitting right here in this moment,” she pointed and Damien felt everyone’s eyes fall upon him. “However, our travel has to be strictly observatory only. The Primordius forbid any interference, with the pain of obliteration as the punishment.”

“Why?” Cereza asked, then frowned. “Wait, does this have to do with Sephiroth’s memories?”

“Damien, if you please. But to answer your question, it does.” Khepri nodded with an annoyed smirk. “Kathreftis Sympan was created through a time-travel experiment that involved changing the past. So faced with the idea of potentially infinite universe held within a theorised finite space, they halted any further creation.

“But, that is where our enemy comes in.”

Damien felt himself stiffening. Both Jeanne and Cereza leaned forward with anticipation, while Rosa stopped pacing and gazed down expectantly.

“The Prophet does not care for this law, as there is now no one to punish him for his transgression-”

“Why not?” Jeanne interrupted. She tapped a finger on her chin and then shook her head. “The… Primordius, if they are as real as you are saying, are the most powerful beings in the universe. A little Prophet shouldn’t be an issue for any of them!”

“Mundus is stuck inside Inferno due to Sparda’s interference, Jubileus is fast asleep until the Recreation is necessary and Rodin has to pick up their slack. By the time he figures out that something is wrong, the Prophet has already slipped away and restarted his journey through time,” Khepri explained, a slight frown on her features. “By the time he makes sure the current universe is going to survive and creates a ‘Multi-universe Dimension Wormhole Device’ to follow, the Prophet has moved on.”

“Rodin is here now, though?” asked Rosa.

“Indeed. And you can thank me for that. Because of your actions with Cereza here, I was able to foresee what universe would be created, and the memories that I would need to be able to receive him in this one.”

Damien’s head whipped across to stare at her. “Wait…”

“Exactly. I needed my memories, and she,” she tapped a finger on his chest. “Needed that connection still. Of all people, you should know the effect loneliness has, expecially to those overwhelmed with the world around them; or in my case, the worlds around them.”

If that was the case… Then…

Khepri hadn’t overlaid his memories just to simply mould him into something that she could use. It was to make sure she had something akin to a friend in an overwhelming situation.

Damien felt guilty. Very guilty. Yes, his anger at the Demoness within him still flowed, but he now had an actual context to her actions that wasn’t just ‘I did it because I could.’ He broke away from her gaze and screwed his eyes shut.

Madama?

‘Yes?’ Her voice was thick, but there was a sliver of hope that dangled within.

I am so sorry. Sorry for what I said, sorry for-

‘It’s okay. I would have reacted the same in your situation. But focus on her; we can talk about what has happened later.’

Just answer this… he swallowed. Why didn’t you tell me?

‘You wouldn’t have listened.’

Damien was about to argue that point, but he remembered just how furious and confused he was and still somewhat is. There was absolutely no chance he would have given the time of day for anything Khepri said, especially if it did not match his current disposition towards her.

An now he felt even worse.

Rosa had asked a question. He didn’t quite catch it, but from the context of Khepri’s answer Damien thought he could figure out what it was.

“Well, the Prophet had created two universes; one where he tested his theory and one where he began his work and I became aware of it. The universe Cereza visited and the one where the memories of Damien come from is the one where I specifically interfered to create the latest, and hopefully final, universe.” The Madama stood up, smoothing out her dress as she did. “I sought the counsel of Placidusax, Philemon, Rodin and, at the time, Sheba to determine if five universes would be too problematic. They are the strongest of the active Primordius, and they determined that no consequences should arise from it.”

“I take it you have a plan for all of this?” Rosa asked. “Considering I do not believe he is meant to be here now?”

“I’ll be honest; it’s a work in progress. But in regards to Damien here, you have two options; send him back to the present, or hide and train him until he gains the necessary strength to challenge his fate.” Khepri folded her arms. “In other words, you’ll need to use the Chronocanum either way.”

“I can do that. But first, I must play my part that Marion has demanded of me,” Rosa waved her arm and shadows began to swirl around Khepri’s feet. “Now, return to Inferno and reside there until necessary.”

“And I will.” Khepri then flashed him a smile. “Regardless of the circ*mstances, meeting you was worth all of this. Your… mother would be very proud of who you have become.”

He couldn’t stop the pride from filling his belly and Damien smiled bashfully. “And what of my father?”

“Oh…” Khepri’s eyes glazed over and her smile faded. “Well… I wouldn’t pay much attention to them.”

And then she fell through the ground before anyone could question what she could possibly mean by that. Damien jumped to his feet and stared incredulously at the dissipating shadows, then up at Rosa.

“Do not look at me like that; I have no Earthly idea what she is talking about,” Rosa said innocently. Too innocently.

“You know, don’t you?”

The elder Witch hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. “I cannot tell you.”

A spike of anger rushed through him, but he dismissed it with a tight clench of his hand. “You are just as bad as her.”

“The Patron chooses her contracted. There is a reason why we tend to share traits.” She placed a hand onto his shoulder and gripped it. “But now you have enough information about your situation; what will you do?”

What will he do? The answer seemed very obvious. “I have to get back to my time.”

“Then you must await my return.” Rosa swept herself away and began to walk towards the door. “Once these two anomalies are bought to heel, if not destroyed, we will use the Chronocanum.”

“But Mummy, they’ll-” Cereza started.

“There is nothing they can do, short of killing you, that can harm me.” Rosa halted and turned to her daughter, holding her arms out. Cereza answered by practically jumping straight into her mother’s embrace. “And I will never let them do that.”

“I want to go with you.”

The elder Witch chuckled. “Stay here and help Jeanne, little one. Once she is the Umbran Elder, we may have our paths cross once more; especially with you granted the freedoms you deserve.”

The two separated briefly, only for Rosa to lean forward and place a kiss upon Cereza’s forehead. “You are brave and strong; protect your big brother for me, please?”

“I will, Mummy.” She nodded, determination filling every aspect of her. Younger Cereza truly did wear her heart on her sleeve.

Rosa then walked through the door, closing it silently behind her. Jeanne was the first to break the silence.

“So, what does Rosa expect us to do with him until she gets back?”

…

A few hours later.

…

Opening his eyes took so much effort, yet it wasn’t painful. Sleep had come easily to the Sage once he realised Bayonetta had left or was pointedly ignoring him.

Blurred darkness greeted him. Judging from the small speckles of dimming light that were allowed to enter the house, night was about to fall, or had already fallen. Balder blinked a few times to clear his vision, slowly making out objects in front him.

A small table.

A pair of familiar armchairs.

The smell of oak burning.

His entire body ached with the focal point leading from his stomach. Balder struggled for a moment to untangle one arm from the thin blanket covering him and, upon succeeding the most basic of tasks, reached down to brush his fingers against his bare stomach. No glaive remained impaled there, nor a wound, and a small sigh of relief expelled through his lips.

Onto more important problems, he supposed.

The conversation with Bayonetta played through his mind on repeat. Absolutely no hostility remained in the girl and Balder could not understand why she was acting the way she was. Despite saving his life, she still had blood upon her hands that needed to be answered.

And that opened up another line of questions that Balder wanted answers for. The girl’s similarities to Rosa had been noted by him before, but observing her attempt to perform tasks and grant him aid he did not ask for formed a reflection of his late wife. It was absolutely uncanny and, to his growing frustrations, there was no answer.

A soft sound broke through the silence and Balder’s head instantly turned towards it. Twisting his body off the couch, he waited for it to appear again; it simply had stopped before he could identify it.

Before he could start believing he had imagined it, the sound rang out again. It was the sharp inhales of pain through clenched teeth, followed by gasps of relief. They were quickening in pace, almost until both sounds were blending together.

What in the blazes is she doing?

Balder stood up, immediately losing his balance. He regained it half a second later by summoning the glaive and shoving it back through the lounge. For a brief moment there was a fleeting panic, but then he remembered that Rosa loathed that piece of furniture. She would not object to its destruction.

His gaze then fell upon the staircase and he finally realised that the sounds were coming from above him, specifically from Cereza’s old room. Any apprehension that had formed in his gut about his ability to traverse up was drowned in fury.

How dare she?

How dare she!?

Balder took to the steps three at a time, not caring that his stomach was protesting his haste. He passed by their old bedroom and suddenly halted before opening the door to Cereza’s, hesitated with his hand upon the handle.

If there was no relation to Rosa, then Bayonetta would have no idea where she was or the importance of the building to him. For all she knew they had broken into a long-abandoned house. Perhaps he was reacting too harshly. The pained whimpers certainly plucked at his heartstrings-

She had murdered Cereza. The situation now was irrelevant. He pushed open the door and froze.

She was sitting at the foot of the bed, leaning back against the frame with sweat pouring off her body. A needle was in her right hand, connected to a ball of yarn that lay next to her leg, pushing into the ugly wound in her shoulder. A very amateurish stitch was being attempted and it took Balder a second to know it was doing far more damage than repairing anything.

And that was if it was actually repairable in the first place.

His disbelief won out over his desire for revenge and he decided to announce his presence. “What are you doing?”

Bayonetta’s head glanced upwards with her eyes red, cheeks wet from a constant stream of tears and her face deathly pale.

“Balder?!” Her voice was strained, obviously trying to downplay the situation she was in. “You shouldn’t be up! You shouldn’t even be her-”

“Answer my question, Witch.”

She didn’t answer, and opted to lower her gaze to the floor. Balder rolled his eyes and walked into the small room. His hand unconsciously covered his stomach as it began to flare up. The glaive was left leaning against the door; Bayonetta had obviously given up.

There would be no battle here.

He lowered himself down until he was kneeling on her left. Her gaze shifted away from him and he did not fault her for it.

“It doesn’t heal. Why doesn’t it heal?”

“It won’t ever. My blade was cursed, as a deal breaker with the Prophet.” Balder was surprised at her almost child-like innocence in the question. Perhaps this was an act, to lower his guard before she struck out to escape.

But then why go through the effort of saving him?

“Why…?” She shakily asked, a sob warping the single word. “Why do something so cruel?”

“Cruel? You want to lecture me about cruelty? You murdered my wife and a completely innocent girl.” Balder reached out and pulled her hand away, then the needle and yarn. The ‘stitch’ fell apart instantly and blood began pouring down her already stained skin. “I am merely giving you what you deserve.

“But, for reasons I cannot begin to fathom, you saved my life.”

Bayonetta had reached across with her uninjured arm to pull on her shoulder. It was a flimsy attempt to keep the wound shut, but then her hairsuit began to weave back together to strengthen it. A good delaying tactic, but it would not stop the inevitability.

“Why?” Balder asked. “Why save my life? I killed your mother, did I not? Why give up a chance for your revenge?”

“…”

“Answer me!”

“I-I was mistaken. I thought you were someone else.” The words practically stumbled from Bayonetta. An obvious lie. But yet, somehow, Balder could sense some truth to them. There was two parts in that answer; one was the lie, the other the truth.

“Who did you think I was?” He asked.

“My-”

The abruptness startled even him. Bayonetta sat there, eyes wide in shock and her hand covering her mouth. Balder stared at her with narrowed eyes, trying to determine what game she was playing at.

It was far long overdue to be direct.

“Who are you? Really? Bayonetta isn’t a name, it’s a title. I can sense that.”

“C- Bayonetta.” She quickly replied, but he noticed the small, almost comprehendible slip.

“Why must you lie?” He looked her in the eye, and she immediately broke off. “Why must you refuse to tell me the truth? If we were not enemies, and had met on friendlier terms, would you even consider telling me your name?”

Silence reigned as she mulled it over, her eyes still leaking tears of pain.

“Bayonetta, who are you?”

“I’m… I… I killed…” She swallowed and closed her eyes. “Cereza.”

He had enough. Balder’s arm shot out and gripped her by the throat. He stood up and dragged her lightly struggling body up, something that he took note of with satisfaction, and then tossed her at the nearest wall.

An explosion of splinters ricocheted throughout the hallway. Bayonetta landed against the opposite wall and fell down to the floor, screaming in pain and clutching at her shoulder. Balder rolled his eyes and lightly plucked the falling glaive back into his hand. Spinning it around lightly, grimacing at the stiffness in his movements, but remembered that the woman before him not going to offer a challenge.

And that brought upon hesitation. Revenge was what he sought, but not in this manner. Balder had always fought his battles with honour and integrity, giving each of his opponents a chance to keep their own. This was simply murder.

“What is your problem, Witch?!” He hissed, somehow not showing any of his inner conflict. “You knew who I was immediately when I took off the mask. Stop giving me excuses and tell me who you are!”

“I can’t…” She cried out, sounding very much like a child. “Balder, please… Stop!”

“Stop what? You killed her!” He roared, pointing the glaive at her throat, pushing it slightly against the skin. “You killed both of them! Why should I show you any mercy when you never gave them the option!?”

“Cereza…” Bayonetta sobbed and tried to push away the glaive. Her strength had vastly diminished to the point where her efforts did nothing to deviate the point of the blade. “S- I’m alive-”

“Enough lies! Your delusion is reaching depths I cannot begin to fathom-” he pulled the glaive back. “-and yet it seems like such an elaborate weave of lies that you somehow believe. Now tell me, Bayonetta; who are you!?”

Something barrelled into his left and he went crashing through the wall with his latest attacker. Both fell down and hit the dirt of the outside hard. Balder wasted no time, despite his stomach aching and begging for him to stop, and kipped up with the glaive at the ready. His gaze found his assailant and his eyes hardened.

Another Witch.

She was dressed in the garb of the Umbran prisoners; perhaps the Clan had caught wind there was a Sage left alive and dispatched anyone to rid them of the problem. An expendable woman who was probably promised freedom if they lived to tell the tale of his defeat.

In your wishes.

The guns blazed first and Balder stopped time. The bullets slowed to a standstill and he knocked them aside as the witch ran at him, sweeping low with a kick. Balder stepped over each and spun the blade at her neck; this was stopped with another kick and the Witch twisted up behind him. He spun with her and slammed down with the glaive, only to watch her dance away.

Infuriating. He reassessed the situation and began to circle around the Witch. She was watching his movements with great intensity.

Balder charged forward and swiped low with a feint. The Witch somehow read his movements and didn’t react to it; instead, she lifted up her guns and blocked his actual slash with a gun. The next three swings were all parried one after the other in perfect succession.

Either this Witch was a prodigy or she had fought several Lumen Sages. Perhaps it was time to start using his own tricks.

Fire crawled up his arm and he cast his arm out, launching a wave of fire. The Witch immediately backed off to escape and Balder took the chance to perform his own, unique follow-up. Lowering his stance, he leaped forward and performed a myriad of slashes, ending with a hard swipe down.

All were dodged with ease.

Now Balder was confused. Knocking down the Witch’s counterattack and hearing a gun discharge into the dirt, he stared into the Penitence Masque and tried to make out any features upon her face. It was far too dark to make anything out. Twirling away from her follow-up kick, Balder crouched down and clicked his fingers. A ball of light burst into existence and the Witch flinched from the sudden brightness, covering her face with both arms.

The important part was that she was illuminated. All Balder had to do was wait for her to lower her arm and-

“Balder!?”

Unforgiven fell to the ground with a muffled clatter. So did his glaive.

“Rosa?” His voice was but a whisper. Hope leaked into his tone, but he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Balder swallowed and he reached out very hesitantly, immediately retracting his hand before it truly left his side. “He said you were dead… He said you were all dead!”

He shook his head and looked away from the ghost of his past. “You are just a lie! Enough of this!”

“Balder!”

The authority in her tone forced his gaze back to her. ‘Rosa’ was glaring at him now, her eyes infuriated.

“You think I am some kind of lie? A trick? I assure you, Balder, I am quite alive.” Her hand grabbed onto his upper arm and dragged him close. “And I can prove it too.”

Balder then found himself being pulled down and his lips met hers. At first, he was shocked at the sheer audacity of the Witch, but as the kiss lingered the familiarity started arriving in waves. These were lips he had definitely felt before.

The only lips his had ever touched.

The kiss was broken when he leaned back to stare into her grey eyes. “Rosa…”

“Balder…”

“They told me no one survived.” Balder felt his eyes becoming hot and he blinked the tears away. “You were murdered by-”

“The Umbra imprisoned and stripped me of my power, the same as you. I always believed you perished in the Clan Wars, but I held hope that you were still alive…” Rosa pressed herself against his chest. Balder could feel tears running down his skin and he wrapped his arms around her. “But I could never confirm it.”

“I was sent to work in the fields, with my power only returning with the death of my former clan. Upon this discovery I was whisked to the future, where I was told by the Prophetic One you were murdered by the Umbra, along with our daughter.”

“Well, they are obviously wrong; I’m quite alive and Cereza is currently making mischief for the rest of the Clan.” Rosa chuckled and shook her head. “According to her friend she is quite the ruckus.”

Balder’s gaze then returned to his house and his expression fell. Guilt flooded his very being and he broke the embrace to sprint back.

“Wha- Balder!” Rosa cried out, and he could hear her heels clattering when she began followed him.

“I have made a most terrible mistake,” he muttered, throwing the door open. “One I need to rectify now.”

“A mistake!?”

“Bayonetta!” Taking the steps three at a time, and ignoring the pain in his stomach once again, he found her still sprawled on the ground, exactly where he had left her. “Bayonetta!”

Rosa skidded to a halt behind him with a sharp gasp. “What is- who is this?”

“I was…” Balder shook his head and knelt down, drawing upon his healing magic. “The same Prophet told me she was the person who murdered you.”

His wife was very silent. Almost uncharacteristically so.

“In my desperateness to attain revenge, I decided to curse my glaive,” he continued, nausea slipping around inside of him. “Now her wounds will not heal through any means known to us.”

“Balder, what was the exact wording that this Prophet used when he told you?” Rosa asked.

He frowned and paused in his administrations. “He said that she was the direct cause of their deaths. If he did not mean their murderer, what else could he have meant?”

“Do you even know who she is!?” she screamed at him and he flinched.

“No! She refuses to tell me!” He turned around, anger rising within. “Am I-”

“Mummy?”

Both stopped their argument instantly and turned down to the girl. Her eyes were still closed, but her good arm was still reaching out, clawing at the air in Rosa’s general direction.

“Oh great, she’s truly and utterly delusional.” Balder gritted his teeth and began to draw upon more of his power. A hand on his shoulder stopped him and he found Rosa kneeling down next to him.

“If your weapon was cursed by this magic you speak of, then ours will be of no use. Remember what you planted when we moved in?”

It was like a bolt of lightning and realisation spread across his face. “Mandragora. Pure extract-”

“It’s good that your chemistry skills have not yet faded. Go and get some and we might be able to stop this before it gets worse.” A comforting smile spread across her face. “I’ll move her to a better spot to administer the treatment.”

“I won’t be long. I swear it.”

Balder got to his feet and began to run. He could set this right. He had to. Bayonetta did not deserve this fate.

He had been tricked, plain and simple. And now innocent lives were going to pay for his gullibility.