The URE camp sat deserted some distance away from Massilia. Roman soldiers moved about the camp, grabbing and hauling what supplies they could – as usual, a large number of weapons and armor, with a smattering of high-quality supplies that were obviously for the officers. Officers barked orders and watched with a scrutinizing gaze as it was all hauled back to the city after it had counted and inventoried.

  Near the camp, occupied by only a few soldiers, was a small graveyard. It held only approximately a hundred people or so, and judging by the incredibly soft soil, it had only been recently dug – most likely last night after everything that had occurred. Each one was marked with a plank of wood with a name inscribed on each one. The majority of them seemed to have been carved by the same person as well. Under an officer’s orders, a few of the graves were exhumed so the bodies could be examined. As predicted, all the bodies within were human officers, and all of them were diagnosed with belladonna poisoning.

  Loki sat on a nearby ledge, high above the URE camp. Nobody looked up and so no one noticed the Avenger. After their battle with Alexander had concluded, they plunged back into the front lines and forced the enemy officers to order their divisions either to retreat or stand down. Without the protection and coordination from Waver, they became far easier to track down despite their disguises. Many of them capitulated out of panic, but some resisted to the very end, ordering their soldiers to fight alongside them to take out the trickster god.

  For their bravery, their blood ended up coating Loki’s blade.

  The Avenger tapped a finger impatiently on their arm as they silently observed the activity in the graveyard. As far as they were concerned, they were correct in everything they did. The casualties were high on both sides, to the point where it could be labelled a pyrrhic victory, but they lived to fight and march on regardless. Both Waver and Alexander were dealt with, with neither of them making any contingencies for their defeat. All their officers were either captured and being interrogated or dead. Frankly, things turned out for the best, all things considered.

  But if that’s the case, why did they feel so… discontent about everything? They had been crucial to the victory, yet it all stuck in their craw. What they did to Waver and Alexander was horrific, sure, but it was a war. Morality mattered little in such things. And they had no regrets either about poisoning the officers either. It made things all the easier.

  And yet, something stuck in him like a tumor. One they couldn’t locate and yet ate away at any satisfaction they gained from this victory. Thinking back, when they drove Waver berserk, for a split second, they felt like he lost a small part of himself. The sharp questions from their Master didn’t exactly help either. They were no strangers to questionable acts if it meant they won in the long run, but this was… no. Something about this wasn’t right.

  They sighed as they mused. The closest answer they had was that overall, they had been sloppy. There was a huge amount of collateral damage instead of simply dealing with their targets as necessary. Whenever they acted in the past, any damage only pertained to his targets – and to them as well, but that was something they were more than used to at this point. Consequences to themselves are rather common, all things considered.

  “There you are.”

  Loki glanced up and saw Joan standing there, glaring down at them. Pushing aside their ruminations, they forced a smirk on their face. “Ah, good morning to you, Lancer,” the trickster god greeted sardonically. “Don’t mind me, I’m just observing the fruits of my labor. It really is rather picturesque when you look at it from a distance-“

  That was as far as they got before Joan had marched up and punched them square in the face. The gauntleted fist, backed by the strength of a Servant, knocked Loki straight to the ground, seeing stars. IT was an oddly familiar feeling. His compatriot gods often had a similar reaction once they found out his newest prank or trick and sought retribution.

  “D-dare I ask what that was specifically for?” they groaned as they slowly stood back up, rubbing their very tender jaw. Frankly, if they had been any less resilient, it would’ve been shattered. Even now, they were sure at the very least it was cracked from that blow. The injury would heal itself shortly but that wasn’t the point right now.

  “You got a lotta nerve asking that,” Joan growled. “You know damn well what you did.”

  Loki raised an eyebrow. “Is that it?” they asked flatly. “Really, I thought you had a much more amusing reason to punch me – at least Ritsu did when we first met.”

  So saying, the Avenger sat back down on the rock. “I don’t know what you’re complaining about, to be honest,” they drawled. “We won and they lost. By all rights, it should’ve been the reverse – they had the better strategists, they had more soldiers, better morale, supplies, better… well, everything. Hell, we had more Servants on our side and we were still facing defeat dead-on.”

  They reclined in their seat. “So we took a beating,” they said, waving it off. “I’ll fully admit it wasn’t my best work – it was ridiculously sloppy, all things considered – but in the end, the fact that we prevailed against such a superior force is nothing short of a miracle.”

  Loki glanced up at Joan out of the side of their eyes. “If anything, you should be thanking me,” they noted sardonically. “Thanks to what I did, we managed to win in the end.”

  For that remark, a second fist followed, once more sending Loki to the ground. “Yeah, we did win,” Joan growled. “And maybe in the end that’s what matters the most. But A lot of people died because of your bullshit, Loki. They can’t exactly argue against you, but I figure for their sake, you deserve at least this much.”

  The Avenger glared up at her as they staggered back up. “Oh, so now you’re speaking for the dead then?” they mocked, venom dripping from each word. “That’s just fucking hilarious. You’ve done just as much if not more back during your little tenure over in France, and now you’re turning around and hitting me for it? Ha, I’d laugh harder if it wasn’t for the fact that you’re about to make me puke.”

  The trickster god stood back up and walked up to Joan, glaring her in the eye. “You have absolutely no right to talk from a fucking pedestal right now,” they snarled. “But even if you did, I made sure we fucking won. Wars don’t allow for niceties, and as far as I’m concerned, the gloves came off once they tried to poison our fucking Master – or did you conveniently forget that part? I played by their rules, and in the end, I played the game better than they did.”

  They narrowed their eyes. “So if you’re gonna talk about avenging or speaking for the dead, realize that you only have the luxury of doing so now because of me,” they hissed. “Now are we done here or do I have to keep pointing out how much of a fucking hypocrite you are?”

  Joan was silent for a while as they processed the Avenger’s words. “You’re right,” she conceded calmly. “I have no right to speak for the dead in any sense. Frankly, this is just personal satisfaction – a way to vent and get some shit out. Despite the high casualties, we did win, and you’re right – this is stuff I saw… and caused… back in France everywhere.”

  Loki blinked in surprise at the rather frank admittance before the Lancer continued. “That doesn’t mean, however, what you did wasn’t completely shitty,” she growled. “A lot of men lost their lives over this with many more gravely injured, we weren’t able to get nearly as many officers on our side as we could’ve, and morale right now is abysmal. If you call this a win, then frankly your definition of a loss would probably along the lines of an utter catastrophe. I did screw up, but at the very least, I’m trying to make amends how I can and take responsibility for all that I did.”

  She grabbed them by the collar. “What you did, what you pulled off,” she whispered. “No one’s going to forget it. You’ll be held accountable for acting out like this. So stop acting like this doesn’t affect you, you bastard, and learn to take some goddamn responsibility.”

  The two Servants glared at each other before the trickster god knocked her hand away. “Spare me your self-righteous lecture, you piece of shit,” they snarled. “I’m not you. I’ll do what I can and what I must – no more and no less. Next time, pull a victory out of your ass and then maybe we can talk. Until then, all I hear is the whimpering of a hypocrite, which is worth less than nothing. I think we’re done here, so piss off and do something actually useful.” Before Joan could retort, the Avenger turned around, stalked off, and vanished into thin air once more.

  Jeanne stared at where the trickster god vanished, then sighed as she ran a hand through her pale hair. Despite her arguments, Loki’s words hung heavily in her mind despite everything. She couldn’t deny them. They were right in calling her a hypocrite. Who was she to tell them what to do when she had committed the same if not far worse back in France? What made her so different from them?

  Actually, no. Despite everything, there was a difference. She turned to look back at the city, smoke still billowing out from smothered fires as the distant cries of soldiers and officers echoed in the still air. The ruins of the buildings and the corpses on the street as she wandered through were fresh in her mind. As painful as it all was, she couldn’t – no, she wouldn’t run away from it all. Whatever she needed to do to make amends, she’d do it. It wouldn’t erase the pain and destruction it caused, but it was a start.

  Her hands tightened into fists. Chaldea’s technology was meant to send people to different timelines, wasn’t it? Then perhaps after everything was over, she could possibly head back to where it began. And from there, make amends how she could.

  Joan shook her head as she began stomping down toward the former URE camp. That was a thought for later. For now, there was still much to do in this singularity. She would see her mission through, no matter what.

  If there was one thing Ren appreciated about the Velvet Room, it was how constant it was. Without fail, he always woke up in his bunk within his cell, his eyes greeted by the sight of the blue velvet walls that lined his room. The quiet piano and mournful singing that permeated the place never changed, yet it never got old or tiring. And when he stood up and walked out, there would be Igor at his table with his perpetual grin, with Lavenza and Olga by his side awaiting him. There was something comforting about how the Velvet Room stayed the same and was always there for him, no matter what chaos may happen in the waking world.

  It was the same feeling as whenever he got back to LeBlanc – the feeling of arriving back home after a very long day, be it school, Palaces, or otherwise.

  Still, as Ren walked through the cell door, he had to admit it was quite the whiplash. Compared to the clamor of Massilia and the siege, the calm almost set Ren on edge, as though he expected something to burst out at any second. With some annoyance, he had to force himself to calm down a little. The Velvet Room was a safe space (aside from that time with Yaldabaoth, but that was the exception, not the norm) and any worries he had would be unfounded here.

  “Welcome back, my dear guest,” Igor greeted cordially as Ren stepped forward. “This battle proved a most formidable trial for you and yours, one where even the greatest would be hard pressed. And yet, you have emerged victorious in the end. You must be commended for such an accomplishment.”

  Ren forced a smile. “Thanks, Igor,” he replied. “Still, I can’t take any credit for this one – I was just holding the fort. Loki was the one who secured our… victory.” The last word was hard to speak, threatening to choke him in bile he couldn’t help but feel. It didn’t feel like a win in the slightest, with how many died on both sides.

  And Alexander… He could never forget the young conqueror’s visage of rage and grief. A victory caused by a psychotic breakdown was one he would rather not have.

  Olga huffed quietly, her arms crossed. “As unpleasant as it was, Amamiya,” she stated. “Loki did have good intentions for what they did – not the best intentions, of course, but good enough. And regardless, they have secured you a rather unlikely victory, as distasteful as the method is. The abilities of Lord El-Melloi are not to be underestimated, yet they succeeded. That has to be taken into consideration.”

  Lavenza frowned over at her. “Regardless, driving a person psychotic to break down their allies is a truly grim tactic,” she reminded her. “The Trickster has had many experiences with both mental shutdowns and psychotic breakdowns. While it may have been necessary, it stands to reason it may cause a lot more harm than good. We can see the consequences for ourselves, after all. However justified, it is still a repugnant act.”

  The Phantom Thief raised his hands. “Guys, guys, I get it,” he reassured them wearily. “We can argue all we like about it, but what’s done is done. At the least, I gotta figure out what has to be done with Loki. If they can drive people psychotic like that, including Servants, then we can’t just leave them be. I’ll need to consult with everyone else, though, and see what we can come up with. You guys have any advice?”

  The former director frowned again. “If my memory is correct, Loki in myths is a very slippery character,” she cautioned. “I would be especially careful using a command seal on him. While command seals are absolute, the effects are weaker the broader the order is. On the other hand, if you use something specific, there’s a considerable possibility they’ll exploit a loophole. There’s several myths where they do just that, after all.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Ren nodded grimly. “Got it,” he acknowledged. Having as much info as he could to deal with Loki was quite welcomed at this point, and indeed, he also remembered a few of Loki’s myths when he was reading up on the Servant. If they didn’t approach this carefully, the trickster god would easily slip right through and cause more mayhem – or perhaps they might even do so out of spite. Ren wouldn’t put it past Loki to do that. Right now, his trust in the Servant was wavering.

  Deciding to switch topics, the Phantom Thief looked back up at the three grimly. “What about Nero?” he asked. “I’ve met a lot of people but that’s the first time I’ve ever encountered something that… noticed me looking with my Third Eye. I’m guessing it’s Nero’s shadow but it’s the first time I’ve had a shadow stare back at me like that. Do you guys know anything about that?”

  There was a deep, palpable silence at Ren’s question. What surprised Ren, however, was that Olga was also looking over to Igor and Lavenza, frowning in confusion. It was clear that whatever it was, she was in the dark about it as well. Then he remembered: as competent as she was, she was still an Attendant in training. She probably didn’t learn or know as much as the other two - and he had a sinking feeling it wasn’t because they just simply hadn’t reached that part of her education yet.

  “What dwells within Nero,” Igor began slowly. “Is something that you need not face right now. It is far beyond your capability, nor will it matter for your mission. It shall indeed be another trial for you – another one far exceeding the ones your predecessors have faced in the past – but at the moment, it is not one for you to confront until it is necessary.”

  The Phantom Thief frowned. While the residents of the Velvet Room normally were vague at best when answering his questions, this was perhaps one of the most blatant dodge attempts to dodge the question. And this time, it felt more like they were trying to keep him away from something rather than simply being vague about it and relying on it to figure things out. He idly wondered if Justine and Caroline would just blatantly tell him to not bother with this for his own good.

  At least they were upfront in telling him they weren’t going to answer him. He still remembered when the false Igor straight up lying to him when he asked if he knew who the other Persona user was back in Tokyo. Once more, it had just been a rigged game from the start.

  “So it’s that bad, huh?” Ren commented, frowning in consternation. “Well, if that’s what you guys say, then I’ll believe you.” There was no reason to distrust them – and if they were blatantly warning them like this, then he would be an idiot not to listen. Igor (the real one) and Lavenza have never led him astray no matter what, and he knew it was no different here.

  Besides, even if he wanted to do something about it, Nero’s Palace was all the way back in Rome. There was absolutely no way they could backtrack that far and not lose a huge amount of time, even if it was just him and their Servants. No, whatever lurked within Nero would have to be left alone. So long as it wasn’t a concern during the campaign, then that was all they could ask for.

  Suddenly, he remembered when he studied the Roman Empire back in school and what he had been taught – particularly Nero’s tyrannical reign. Much of it had apparently been political propaganda, but not all of it and in time, s/he would die a rather ignominious death via suicide. He could only grimly wonder if it was the influence of her shadow that in the end caused her downfall. Once history was resolved, it would all play out once more as she fell prey to her own shadow – something he couldn’t, and shouldn’t, fix.

  Wearily, the Phantom Thief shoved it out of his mind. No matter how much he despised it, there was nothing he could do about it, nor was it his ultimate goal. No, he needed to focus once more on what he could do now and go from there.

  Lavenza smiled as she stepped forward, placing her hand on Ren’s. “Your empathy and your compassion knows no bounds once more, my Trickster,” she murmured. “And it is only matched by your determination and cunning. I have no doubt you will see all these trials through, be it Loki or the emperor. I know without a shadow of a doubt you shall succeed.”

  Ren blinked in surprise at her gesture, then smiled, grasping her hand in turn. “Thanks, Lavenza,” he murmured. He glanced back up at the others. Igor’s perpetual grin widened once more and while Olga still had a stern demeanor, it had softened somewhat. “Thanks, guys. I’ll take over from here. I should be getting some rest, so I’ll see you when I see you.”

  “Rest well, my dear guest,” Igor acknowledged as Lavenza stepped away. “And know that we shall always been watching over your endeavors.”

  The Phantom Thief smiled and with a nod, entered back into his cell. His surroundings melted away into darkness, and he knew no more.

  The residents of the Velvet Room watched as Ren vanished back into the waking world before Olga faced the other two. “Explain to me, what is the issue with Nero?” she demanded. “If both of you find it a subject of concern, then would it not be best that I know as well so I can make any due preparations?”

  Igor sighed wearily. “It is… difficult to make such preparations for such an event,” he answered. “The issue of Nero and her shadow is far beyond the trials many of our guests have undergone, and frankly speaking, is not something to be lightly trifled with - not without due cause. Lavenza and I did not wish to tell you immediately to help preserve your sanctity of mind, especially concerning a matter that is best ignored.”

  His eyes glanced over to the now-worried Olga. “Do you still wish to know?” he asked calmly.

  Olga blinked, hesitated for a second, then nodded with determination. “If I am to fulfill my role as an Attendant, then it is best I know as much as I can,” she replied. “Whether it is good or bad news, it matters little. Too much rides on this, after all, and I will not hesitate due to my own squeamishness.”

  Both Igor and Lavenza smiled. “Such spirit,” the former praised. “Our guest truly knows how to forge powerful bonds with such laudable people. I applaud your bravery and tenacity. Very well, Olga. I shall explain as much as I am able to.”

  Thus, the Master of the Velvet Room explained as much as he could. Olga listened – and she would be beset by nightmares in the days to come.

  “We should be approaching shortly.”

  Morgana nodded. “Thanks, Rider,” he mentally replied tersely before shivering slightly as the wind whistled past him. The chill from the higher altitude was still getting to him despite his fur. Still, he wasn’t all too cold – Tama’s paws were curled protectively around him as she pressed him close to her body, her surprisingly warm body easily warding off the lower temperature. Granted, her ample chest resting on his head was a bit heavy for his liking, but he couldn’t complain too much.

  They were soaring through the air well above the Mediterranean. Medusa was in front, her hands on the reins as her Pegasus easily cut through the winds, her body blocking any headwind to her passengers. Right behind her sat Tamamo Cat with Morgana in her grip. The catlike Master had originally planned to sit up front with the Rider, but both Servants had cautioned him about the cooler conditions and thinner air at higher altitudes and in the end, Morgana agreed to sit with Tamamo Cat. He was now incredibly thankful he listened to them.

  The ships had been taking too long despite Medusa and Astolfo’s sailing prowess, and after receiving news of the assassination attempt and everything afterward, Morgana knew they had to get to the city faster. Thus, after working out plans and logistics with legate Evander, both Riders summoned their respective mounts and flew straight for Massilia. They had ascended high enough to both mask their entrances and to get a literal birds-eye view of the situation. It would have been better to soar above the clouds for further camouflage, but the atmosphere above was far too thin for Morgana to breathe properly. Even now, he found himself more out of breath than he expected.

  “Are you doing okay, Master?” Tama asked, glancing down worriedly at Morgana.

  Morgana blinked as he tilted his head up, barely seeing the Berserker’s expression past her sizing, and gave a reassuring smile. “Nothing I can’t handle,” he replied easily. “But thanks for your help, Tama – I’d rather not go into battle freezing cold where I can’t move properly.”

  Tama beamed. “It is the least I can do, Master, woof! I mean, meow!” she reassured him in turn.

  The catlike being grinned up at her before looking over to the side. Flying some distance away was Astolfo on his hippogriff, easily keeping pace with Medusa’s Pegasus. Behind the effeminate Rider was Archer, his face locked into a fierce expression as his steel-grey eyes scanned the horizon. He had once more been babysitting Astolfo, but now the normally happy-go-lucky Rider seemed more determined than usual as the red-mantled hero kept watch, his eyesight going far beyond what any of them could see.

  ‘Archer, you see anything yet?’ Morgana asked telepathically.

  Frowning, the man narrowed his eyes. ‘I see lots of smoke rising ahead of us,’ he reported. ‘No large masses of soldiers though and the city looks to be relatively intact if deserted. Chances are good the Romans held out.’

  Morgana forced a laugh. ‘That’s Joker for you,’ he commented. ‘He probably figured a way out. But like hell I’m gonna leave him in a lurch if he’s still in trouble!’

  ‘We are already moving as fast as we can, Master,’ Archer reminded him calmly. ’Any faster would risk harm to you. We’ll be at the city in approximately ten minutes. I ask that you sit tight until then.’

  ‘Easy for you to say,’ the catlike being grumbled. ‘Are you able to at least take a shot from there?’

  ‘If the opportunity presents itself,’ Archer grimly stated. Morgana glanced over again and saw the red-mantled hero had summoned his bow. All he needed was an arrow – or rather, a sword. It was a reassuring sight, but it did little to alleviate Morgana’s nerves.

  ‘We’ll be picking up speed, Master,’ Medusa reported. ‘Hold on.’

  Morgana blinked, then he glanced up at the Berserker. “Hold on tight, Tama!” he commanded as he held onto her paws. The Servant blinked before nodding determinedly, also increasing her grip on him in turn.

  As a pair, the Pegasus and the hippogriff descended. The temperature quickly became warmer as they approached the ground despite the wind whipping about them, and soon, even Morgana could see the city. It looked almost like a model at first, yet as they steadily approached, the buildings and walls grew steadily bigger and bigger. Idly, Morgana wondered if this was what the other Thieves saw when they went on that airplane ride to Hawaii.

  He shook himself out of it. This wasn’t the time to get distracted, especially as he saw the plumes of smoke grow thicker and higher. Glancing down in concern, he looked around for any sign of the enemy, and found them he did: As a near uncountable mass of bodies littering both within the city and all over the fields outside. They could all see the enormous bonfires as they saw Roman soldiers cart bodies over and toss them into the flames.

  ‘It seems the Roman forces are victorious, Master,’ Medusa noted, frowning slightly as she observed the situation.

  ‘Yeah,’ Morgana quietly agreed. And yet, despite the apparent victory, everyone and everything seemed far more subdued than he expected. There was no air of celebration, cheer, or accomplishment that was normally associated with winning. The soldiers seem exhausted and weary, going about their tasks. It may have been because the battles might have cost them too much. The Romans had been numbered almost twenty to one, after all. The fact they were able to not only hold out, but even win was honestly mindboggling.

  Their reverie was interrupted by shouting from below. Glancing over, everyone could see soldiers pointing up to them in panicking. Quickly moving up the wall, they all prepared their bows, nocking arrows and preparing to fire up at the two of them. Medusa’s grip tightened on the reins as Tama held Morgana more securely, bracing themselves for evasive maneuvers-

  Suddenly, there was a glimmer of white among the sea of iron as Ren rushed up to the walls, rapidly waving his arms and shouting indistinctly at the soldiers, to their confusion. They began lowering their bows warily, obviously not entirely sold on Ren’s words. Morgana frowned. There had to be some way they could reassure the Romans they were friendly-

  Suddenly, he was lifted up into the air with a startled squawk. Looking down, he saw Tamamo Cat holding him up like he was a newborn kitten. “T-Tama, what are you doing?!” he demanded nervously as he did his best to not look down.“If they see you, they’re less likely to attack you!” Tamamo Cat chirped. “After all, we’re allies of Rome, and your presence is known, right? So if they see you, then they’re likely going to know we’re friends!”

  She adjusted her hold a bit to make sure the catlike being was visible past the flapping wings of the Pegasus in full view of the Romans. “I feel like I should sing, woof! I mean, meow! I sing, Master?”

  Morgana blinked in surprise. “Uh, maybe not right now,” he replied. This was far more embarrassing than he expected, being held up like this. He realized with no small amount of mortification that Tama was right – this was like that one Disney movie, though that barely distracted him how high he was. Sure, he could land on his feet – in fact, he thought he read someplace that cats could reach terminal velocity and still be able to land without issue. Still, that didn’t detract from how utterly terrifying it was.

  The stunt bore fruit, however – the soldiers began pointing and cheering as they saw Morgana, who just had the sinking realization that he wasn’t about to hear the end of this anytime soon. Especially since he saw to his horror that Ren had his phone out and was apparently recording the whole thing. How much battery did that thing have?!

  “Look Master, they recognize you!” Tama crowed happily. “This was a good idea!”

  “Er, yeah,” Morgana replied weakly. “Y-you can go ahead and put me down now.” Tamamo Cat happily obeyed, looking all too pleased with herself. Despite the winds still whipping around them, Morgana felt the heat in his face. His fur hid his blush but he still felt the humiliation burn underneath. He could hear both Medusa and Archer chuckling in his mind as Astolfo’s laughter lifted clear above the wind. ‘It’s not funny!’ he roared at the two of them. He was only met with more chuckling in turn.

  With a groan, he buried his face in his paws. This wasn’t how he wanted his return to go in the slightest.

  “Way to make an entrance, Mona,” Ren commented with a grin. “Or should I call you Simba from now on? I’m sure the other guys would agree with the name change.”

  “Not another word from you, Joker,” Morgana grumbled. They had set down some distance away from Massilia. The other Servants stayed back both to survey the area and manage their beasts – the latter being Astolfo and his hippogriff. “I’m just glad they didn’t fire on us. It seemed pretty dicey for a moment there.”

  Ren nodded in agreement. “After the whole siege, everyone’s still on edge,” he explained. “We’re picking up the pieces here and there, but there’s a lot to be done and everyone’s exhausted. You coming back is honestly a huge load off everyone’s minds. I’m guessing the rest of your detachment’s on the way?”

  The catlike being nodded. “We checked in and worked with Evander on that front,” he answered. “The first of the supplies should be reaching here within a couple days. I take it you guys have something similar on land too?”

  “Yep, though it’ll be a bit longer,” Ren confirmed. “Still, the sooner the better.”

  “I’ll say,” Morgana grumbled, looking past Ren at the city. “Seems like the attack was ridiculous.”

  Ren frowned as he followed his best friend’s gaze. “There were… other circumstances at work,” he commented, drawing the catlike being’s curiosity. “A lot of this wasn’t normal.”

  Morgana blinked before narrowing his eyes. “What do you mean?” he asked warily.

  The Phantom Thief thought about how to answer him. “The subway last spring,” Ren answered quietly.

  The catlike being’s eyes narrowed further – then shot wide open in horror as all the pieces quickly clicked together. “Wait, you mean-!” he gasped.

  “Not now,” Ren sharply cut him off, glancing around to make sure no one had been listening in. “We’ll wait until everyone’s arrived, then I’ll brief them all at once. Just keep an eye out for them and be careful.” He turned to look at Morgana’s Servants and forced a smile. “Now, mind introducing me? I only saw them briefly, after all.”

  Morgana mutely nodded and led Ren toward the others as his mind raced a thousand miles an hour. He just now had an inkling of what his best friend had to go through.

  It seemed that their troubles were far from over.