[Well. After bringing him back to his dorm or whatever, giving him the chance to change and the chance for Caleb to run down a couple things, let's have a little chat?]
You really don't remember anything about last night?
Suspect you? No, why would I. I don't know you, but I can't imagine a motive you'd have to kill some stranger and then go lie in a river and be pecked by geese. Nor how you'd have the power to do it when none of us could break out.
[. . .]
If anything, I wonder if whatever killed him, you may have been close to becoming another victim of it.
. . . So what now? No one has any idea what's going on, and we still can't get in touch with the dorm heads or anyone else in this school. We're no better than sitting ducks.
[It takes Sieghart longer than usual to get anywhere now, thanks to his splinted leg. Fortunately, all that stalling leads to his crossing paths with Caleb on the way back to the dorms.]
[A glance at his splintered leg, but Sieghart is a big boy and he can do what he wants. At least he doesn't bite him today. Less attractive without the blood.]
The four of us suddenly found ourselves in the storage room of a hangar, where a voice attached to our necks issued us a test. We were warned that our safety wouldn't be promised if we refused. Our objectives were to steal an airship and head to a cathedral on an island.
We managed to get pretty far before we were shot down. Most of our injuries occurred during the fall.
As for the island . . . we crossed a jungle to reach the cathedral. There were illusions of some people and a winged beast the four of us know inside. The last test wasn't an objective so much as curiosity to see how far we'd go to protect them.
One of them was posing as my descendant. I know how she is; she'd never act the way she did there. Her feigned distress was nothing more than a ruse to anger me.
I'm used to it. It's not the first time an impostor appeared before me.
Anyway, the beast was one of ours. [A mimicry to upset them, that is.] There were illusions of a few familiar faces here, ostensibly in the same circumstance as us. They were threatening our loved ones to save theirs.
I see. I suppose one can take a photograph on the phone, ja? Technology. But, um, as a backup plan. Anything written I take a look at, I'll retain letter for letter. So it might be good to see these things for myself in case something were to happen to the original.
[Dinnertime means one last trip to the cafeteria before the doors close on all of them. Sieghart helps himself to a meal when he waves in Caleb's direction.]
I don't care if you ask. The details you gave were a big help to me.
[He'll take a sip of the tea.]
Not long. I was lucky enough to have a friend with a voucher for a healing potion. Throat is still healing, but as you can see, I can speak, and that is the important thing. Losing my voice for me is maybe like. . . you losing your sword arm?
Rupert got. . . a sheet of paper. Looked like a sign in sheet. Had the names of the dead on it. Didn't get a close look but I suppose it supports what we keep being told, they're being kept somewhere and not really dead.
It's nothing so clear as that. The Dorm Heads have suggested the people expelled aren't killed. This list. . . would seem to suggest something as well, but nothing clearly stated.
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week 0; dieday
You really don't remember anything about last night?
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Do you suspect me? I already told you what I remember.
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[. . .]
If anything, I wonder if whatever killed him, you may have been close to becoming another victim of it.
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[But that's a stupid thing to say, so he runs a hand through his hair and sighs in frustration.]
We received the announcement through the phones, so the school must be behind it somehow.
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Agreed. I believe it is.
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[God.]
You don't strike me as a man used to being a sitting duck.
[The immediate way in which he reached for his sword, against Byleth no less.]
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I prefer a different kind of sitting.
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Excuse me?
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Running around is troublesome. But if I can't sit in peace, I'd rather be on the move.
Week 1: Friday
Oh, good timing.
Are you busy? I know I promised you the details.
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[A glance at his splintered leg, but Sieghart is a big boy and he can do what he wants. At least he doesn't bite him today. Less attractive without the blood.]
Were you going somewhere?
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I'm just heading back to the dorm. But since you're here, let's talk business.
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The four of us suddenly found ourselves in the storage room of a hangar, where a voice attached to our necks issued us a test. We were warned that our safety wouldn't be promised if we refused. Our objectives were to steal an airship and head to a cathedral on an island.
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As for the island . . . we crossed a jungle to reach the cathedral. There were illusions of some people and a winged beast the four of us know inside. The last test wasn't an objective so much as curiosity to see how far we'd go to protect them.
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[Before it was sounding sort of. How life goes. Sometimes you fall out of the sky and traverse jungle ruins. But this part sounds pretty nasty.]
How could you tell they were illusions?
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. . . The test you're describing. They were attacked by this beast? What did it want you to do?
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Anyway, the beast was one of ours. [A mimicry to upset them, that is.] There were illusions of a few familiar faces here, ostensibly in the same circumstance as us. They were threatening our loved ones to save theirs.
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They weren't real, though. If they were, they wouldn't be here with us anymore.
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. . . And after that, you were able to return.
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Before we returned, we met the owner of the voice. They left us with documents and a map piece. We found our way back after that.
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[Literally.]
It's not a bad idea. You should ask those two to show you.
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. . . There's one more thing. Between the voice and our tasks, the four of us died a few times.
Week 2: Thursday
Hey. How's the voice?
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Better. Healing potion.
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[His gaze falls on the tea.]
How long do you suppose it'll take to recover?
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[He'll take a sip of the tea.]
Not long. I was lucky enough to have a friend with a voucher for a healing potion. Throat is still healing, but as you can see, I can speak, and that is the important thing. Losing my voice for me is maybe like. . . you losing your sword arm?
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[He grins before taking a bite of his food.]
But I get what you're saying. So, did you guys find anything?
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[Shrugs.]
I don't know if I buy that.
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You're right, though. These sheets are peculiar, but we should be careful about the conclusions we make based on them.
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Still, it'd be good news if that were true. That would mean there's a way to retrieve the souls we've lost.
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. . . If there's a power like that . . . then . . .
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We may be able to recover some of our losses, right?
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