Pharos sat in a dimly lit room.
A desk before him.
A puzzle in his hands.
Piece by piece—
He assembled it with delicate care.
Precise.
Methodical.
Each fragment clicking into place with a soft, sickening sound.
The image forming—
Grotesque.
Distorted.
And wrong.
Because every piece—
Was made from human skin.
Across from him—
Elric sat.
Composed.
Patient.
Though the tension in the air was suffocating.
"…Ahem."
He cleared his throat.
"As I was saying…"
"I would like your assistance, sir."
Pharos didn't look up.
"Yeah, yeah. I heard you."
Another piece slid into place.
"Unfortunately…"
A faint chuckle escaped him.
"You don't quite fit any of the masterpieces I still have available."
He tilted his head slightly.
"The one most compatible with you…"
A pause.
"…is currently in the hands of the Inquisition."
His smile widened.
"Miserable September."
Elric's expression darkened slightly.
"I've already used my trump card against that witch."
His voice remained calm—
But strained beneath the surface.
"Engaging the Inquisition…"
"…would be difficult."
Even for him.
He leaned forward slightly.
"So tell me—"
"What would it take…"
"To convince you to retrieve it?"
Pharos paused.
A piece hovered in his fingers.
"…Hmm."
He tapped it lightly against the table.
"Fighting that particular user…"
His tone turned thoughtful.
"…would be rather troublesome."
Elric's composure cracked—
Just slightly.
"Please."
A rare note of urgency slipped through.
"I'll do anything."
"I need that artifact."
Pharos froze.
Then—
Slowly—
He smiled.
"Anything?"
A soft laugh followed.
"Well…"
He set the final piece into place.
"…you drive a hard bargain."
Without warning—
He reached beneath the desk.
And pulled something out.
A golden bell.
Elegant.
Beautiful.
Adorned with delicate blue ribbons.
But—
Stained.
With dried blood.
He held it out casually.
"Here."
Elric blinked.
"…When did you get this?"
He took it carefully.
Examining it.
Pharos leaned back in his chair.
Completely relaxed.
A delighted grin spreading across his face.
"…Whose skin do you think I made this puzzle out of?"
Silence filled the room.
"…So."
Elric's voice lowered.
Controlled—
But not entirely steady.
"What is it that you want?"
Pharos leaned back slightly in his chair.
His fingers tapped idly against the desk.
"…What do I want?"
He repeated the words slowly.
As if savoring them.
A pause lingered—
Just long enough to build unease.
Then—
He smiled.
"I want you…"
His eyes gleamed faintly.
"…to leave River and Celestia out of your little revenge."
Silence.
"That shouldn't be a difficult request."
His tone remained light.
"After all…"
He tilted his head.
"…your vengeance isn't aimed at the red-eyes."
Elric's expression didn't change.
"…You're right."
A beat.
"But…"
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"…what's so special about them?"
He leaned forward.
"I know you've been watching River for quite some time."
A pause.
"When I first found Celestia…"
His voice dropped.
"That room reeked of alchemy."
"…of you."
Pharos chuckled softly.
"Of course it did."
He gestured lazily toward the completed puzzle.
"I've been curating those two."
"Guiding them."
"Placing them in just the right situations…"
His smile widened.
"…until everything fits together."
"Like a puzzle."
He tapped the grotesque image on the desk.
"Take the Onyx January, for example."
His gaze flicked toward Elric.
"Who do you think left it in that dungeon…"
"…for River to find?"
Elric's eyes sharpened.
"…You've been planning this."
Pharos didn't deny it.
"Mm."
A small shrug.
"Only for about…"
He pretended to think.
"…twenty-six years."
The number hung in the air.
Heavy.
"How interesting."
Pharos's smile deepened.
"That's around the same time your wife died, isn't it?"
Elric's expression hardened instantly.
"…Watch your words."
Pharos laughed lightly.
"Such a tragic incident."
"What a shame."
Elric's eyes burned with restrained hatred.
"…What are you implying?"
Pharos raised his hands slightly.
"Nothing at all."
His tone was almost innocent.
"Just a coincidence."
A pause.
"I'm not the one who killed your wife."
His eyes sharpened.
"We both know who did that."
"…Heathcliff von Hellsing."
Silence.
Then—
Pharos leaned forward slightly.
Curious.
"Tell me…"
"Does Roe know?"
A faint smile.
"That his mother…"
"…was actually your wife?"
Elric didn't flinch.
"…No."
His voice was calm again.
"For now."
And that answer—
Said far more than anything else.
"Well…"
Pharos stretched slightly in his chair.
"I've quite enjoyed this little conversation."
He smiled—
Almost pleasantly.
"But unfortunately…"
His eyes glinted.
"I do have other matters to attend to."
He stood.
Slow.
Unhurried.
"Oh—and one more thing."
He glanced back at Elric.
"I'd recommend you refrain from any… pranks…"
A faint chuckle.
"…for the next week."
Elric's eyes narrowed.
"…What are you planning now?"
Pharos paused.
Then—
He laughed.
Soft.
Amused.
"Nothing too complicated."
He turned slightly.
"Just something that will make that adorable little declaration of war you gave…"
His smile widened.
"…feel like an afterthought."
Before Elric could respond—
Pharos's body began to shift.
Warp.
Crack.
Then—
It collapsed.
Splitting apart into thousands of tiny, writhing forms.
Spiders.
Hundreds—
No—
Thousands of them.
They scattered across the floor.
Crawling over the desk.
Down the walls.
Into the shadows.
Disappearing into every crack and crevice—
Until nothing remained.
Silence filled the room.
Elric stood there.
Still.
Watching the last of them vanish.
"…Disgusting."
But even as he said it—
There was something else beneath his voice.
Not fear.
Not quite.
But something close.
Meanwhile—
Alexander sat in his room.
The air felt… off.
Heavy.
Unsettling.
Then—
Tick.
A sharp sting hit his neck.
"Ow—what the hell?"
He slapped at it instinctively.
Nothing there.
"…Tch."
On the bed beside him—
Alicia shifted closer.
Half-dressed.
Her long black hair spilling over her shoulders.
Green eyes filled with concern.
"Are you okay?"
She pressed herself gently against him.
"What's wrong?"
Alexander exhaled sharply.
"I'm fine…"
He stood abruptly—
Running a hand through his hair.
"…My head just… hurts."
A dull pressure throbbed behind his eyes.
Like something was clawing its way inside.
And then—
He felt it.
That sensation.
Like someone was watching him.
Right behind him.
Right beside him.
Right—
Inside his head.
"Such a weak and pathetic man…"
A voice whispered.
Low.
Mocking.
Right against his ear.
Alexander spun around.
"…Who said that?!"
No one.
Just Alicia.
Looking at him—
Worried.
"Small… weak man…"
The voice came again.
Closer this time.
Sharper.
"Outdone by someone you called useless."
Alexander's breathing quickened.
"Shut up…"
His hands trembled slightly.
"…Stop it."
"Couldn't even defeat a cleric."
The voice pressed on.
"Couldn't even do meaningful damage to the Skin Eater."
"SHUT UP!"
Alexander shouted.
Alicia flinched.
"Alexander—!"
Her voice trembled.
"Are you okay? You're scaring me—"
"Just go."
His voice was strained.
Tight.
"…I'm not feeling well."
Alicia hesitated.
"…Are you sure?"
"Go."
A pause.
Then—
She nodded reluctantly.
Quickly getting dressed—
And leaving the room.
The door closed.
Silence.
For a moment.
Then—
"Pathetic."
The voice returned.
Colder now.
"Can't even satisfy a woman."
Alexander's fists clenched.
"I bet…"
A soft, cruel laugh echoed in his mind.
"Alicia had to use magic just to convince herself she enjoyed being with you."
"…Shut up…"
His voice dropped to a whisper.
His nails dug into his palms.
"…Shut up…"
But the voice didn't stop.
It only grew louder.
Closer.
And far more personal.
Alexander staggered.
"…Ghh—!"
His body seized.
Something—
Was moving inside him.
Crawling.
Beneath his skin.
Dozens—
No—
Hundreds of tiny legs skittering through his veins.
"G-get it out…!"
He clawed at his arms.
His neck.
But there was nothing to grab.
Nothing to tear out.
Only the feeling.
Relentless.
Violating.
"You desire power, don't you?"
The voice returned.
Louder now.
Clearer.
Right inside his skull.
Alexander collapsed to one knee.
"Shut up…!"
Then—
Pain exploded through his eye.
"AAAGH—!"
His vision twisted—
Warped—
And then—
RIP.
A large black spider forced its way out from beneath his eye socket.
Blood streamed down his face.
He screamed—
Raw.
Primal.
Terrified.
But—
No one came.
No one heard him.
The room remained silent.
As if the world itself had turned its back on him.
The spider landed softly.
Then began to crawl.
Up his arm.
Toward his wrist.
"You want it, don't you?"
The voice coiled around him.
"Power."
"The kind that ensures no one ever looks down on you again."
Alexander trembled.
"…Who… are you?"
The spider stopped.
Then—
It smiled.
"My name is Pharos."
Its voice was calm.
Pleasant.
"I'm here to offer you one of my masterpieces."
It tilted its head slightly.
"All I ask…"
"…is a small favor."
Alexander's breathing became erratic.
"…W-what… do you want…?"
His throat burned.
His body shook uncontrollably.
Pharos chuckled.
"Oh, nothing complicated."
"I simply want you to stop feeling like a pathetic little man."
A pause.
Then—
Its voice sharpened.
"To do that…"
"You must kill the one who makes you feel that way."
Alexander's eyes widened.
"…What—"
He doubled over.
"—GHH—!"
He vomited.
Not bile.
Not blood.
But—
Spiders.
Dozens of them poured from his mouth—
Crawling over his hands.
Clustering.
Fusing.
Twisting together.
His screams turned into choked gasps.
The mass of spiders shifted—
Hardened—
Condensed into something solid.
A sleek, black gauntlet formed around his arm.
Polished.
Elegant.
Terrifying.
At its center—
A crimson spider emblem pulsed faintly.
Alive.
Breathing.
Watching.
Pharos's voice echoed softly.
"Now then…"
Pharos's voice echoed softly.
"…show me what kind of monster you can become."
A pause.
Then—
"All you have to do…"
"…is kill River."
Alexander's body trembled.
His breathing ragged.
Uneven.
"…N-no…"
He forced the words out.
"…I refuse."
His hands clenched against the floor.
"Go to hell… you bastard."
His voice shook—
But didn't break.
"I'm not your puppet."
"I'm not something you can string along."
Pharos tilted his head.
Genuinely puzzled.
"…You won't do it?"
"Why not?"
Silence lingered.
Strange.
Pharos observed him carefully.
I assumed he hated the boy.
Insecure.
Bitter.
Pathetic.
These were all the attributes I had learned about Alexander.
Alexander slammed his fist into the ground.
"Because…"
His voice cracked—
But pushed forward.
"He saved my life."
A pause.
"He could've left me to die."
His breathing steadied slightly.
"And after everything I did…"
"I deserved it."
Lightning flickered faintly around his body.
"…You're right."
A bitter laugh escaped him.
"I am pathetic."
"I've hated him for months."
"All because…"
His grip tightened.
"…I couldn't stand the fact that he saved me from the third floor guardian months ago."
The lightning surged stronger.
Violent.
Unstable.
"That's exactly why—"
He forced himself up slightly.
"…I have to surpass him."
"On my own."
"With my own strength."
His eyes burned with resolve.
"…So go to hell."
Lightning erupted outward—
Striking the spiders crawling along his arm.
They shrieked—
Scattering.
Burning.
For a moment—
It looked like he had won.
Then—
The air darkened.
A thick, black fog seeped into the room.
And from it—
Pharos emerged.
Standing directly in front of him.
His expression—
Cold.
Annoyed.
"…How irritating."
Alexander froze.
Before he could react—
Pharos grabbed him.
Effortless.
Inescapable.
"Since you won't play along…"
His grip tightened.
"…I'll simply make you."
He forced Alexander's jaw open.
"…Ngh—!"
A massive black spider crawled forward—
And disappeared into his mouth.
"GHHHH—!!"
Alexander's body convulsed violently.
His back arched.
His limbs spasmed uncontrollably.
Screams tore from his throat—
Raw.
Broken.
Inhuman.
Pharos watched calmly.
Almost bored.
"This should fix that troublesome little mind of yours."
He turned slightly.
Already losing interest.
"Go on then…"
"…pathetic little Alexander."
His voice echoed faintly.
"I expect results."
A small smile returned.
"…After all."
"Only you…"
"…can push that boy even further."
Pharos faded into the darkness.
Gone.
As if he had never been there.
The spiders receded.
The grotesque gauntlet—
Shifted.
Melted.
Reforming into a pair of sleek, unassuming bracelets.
Silent.
Hidden.
Waiting.
Alexander collapsed.
His body limp.
Eyes rolled back.
Foam spilled from his mouth.
Unconscious.
Broken.
And yet—
Something inside him had changed.
Something—
That wasn't entirely his anymore.