Cecilia first felt shy at Otto's closeness.
But when she heard his words, her racing heartbeat gradually slowed.
She had doubted herself before.
Fragments of memory flickered through her mind like scattered reflections on water, revealing glimpses of a distant past.
Was it… really like that?
"Your former life," Otto continued softly, "was not very free."
"How… not free?"
"Like a bird in a gilded cage. From beginning to end, confined within a single space."
He gestured lightly at their surroundings.
"Do you know? An outing like this—back then, you had it only once a year."
Cecilia imagined such a life and involuntarily shivered.
"Then in the future…"
"Of course, in the future you can go wherever you like," Otto replied with a smile. "I already promised you."
"Mm…"
She fell silent for a moment before asking again,
"But from what I heard yesterday, Valkyries travel the world to eliminate Honkai. If that's the case, why was I always staying in one place?"
Otto explained patiently.
"'Valkyrie' is Schicksal's general term for girls with Honkai resistance who can fight against it. Not all Valkyries stand on the front lines."
"Guard duty, escort missions, logistics, intelligence—each has her role."
"And your Schariac Holy Blood can instantly neutralize Honkai energy. During the early research stages, keeping you protected at headquarters was more valuable than sending you into battle."
"I see… then why am I not…?"
"Why is no one drawing your blood now?" Otto finished for her. "Don't worry. With your consent, Schicksal conducted extensive research. There have already been major breakthroughs."
"I see…"
Her head drooped slightly.
"So… does that mean I'm no longer useful?"
Otto pulled her a little closer.
"Not at all, my little sister. Your value has never been limited to your Holy Blood. Long ago, you were the strongest Valkyrie by my side."
"But now, all you need to do is live happily. Don't think too much. Don't burden yourself. I won't abandon you."
Cecilia still looked somewhat troubled, but she said nothing.
Otto did not interrupt her thoughts. He simply stroked her hair gently, savoring the warmth in his arms.
After a long silence, Cecilia's soft yet resolute voice broke through.
"I want to go home."
"To search for your memories?" Otto asked, as though he had anticipated this.
"Yes."
"I neither support nor oppose it. But if you insist… I would prefer it to be three days from now."
There was a firmness in his tone—one that left little room for refusal.
"Why three days?" Her voice softened further. She did not wish to argue.
"Consider it… the last bit of time for your brother. At least finish touring England's famous landmarks before discussing anything else."
He paused, then his tone returned to gentleness.
"As for recovering your memories… may I ask your reason?"
"Mm…"
"If you hesitate, you don't have to answer."
"Thank you, Brother."
She exhaled softly in relief, leaning her slender neck back against his shoulder as she gazed at the moon half-veiled by clouds.
In a whisper too faint for anyone to hear, she murmured:
"Because…"
Overseer. Dead Walkers. Honkai…
From everything she had seen these past two days, Brother… the burden on your shoulders is truly heavy.
I want to climb the cliffs with you.
To face hardship beside you.
And when you frown lightly in thought, to have the right to smooth it away.
Just like before.
…
Otto sat at the edge of the bed, quietly watching Cecilia's sleeping face.
The warmth in his eyes gradually faded.
He gently laid her down and rose, walking slowly toward the window.
With each step, the springlike gentleness dissipated.
By the time he stopped, his entire presence had transformed—absolute rationality radiating from him, as though he were standing in Schicksal's testing grounds, calmly reviewing an experiment.
The rhetoric was acceptable. A standard performance.
As for the content—
Nothing he had said so far required the use of lies.
Of course, he had employed certain techniques in guiding her emotions.
Most of Cecilia's psychological fluctuations remained within his expectations.
"…After the curtain rose, the piece itself was somewhat plain," he analyzed inwardly.
"No sufficiently striking scene. No unforgettable turning point. One cannot manipulate intangible emotions without such anchors."
Like a detached reader, he observed himself from above—coldly, methodically—reviewing, evaluating, constructing instruments that connected past and future.
He treated himself, Cecilia, every variable as data.
He replayed scenarios, calculated outcomes, refined possibilities.
At this moment, his gaze was devoid of sorrow or joy.
Indifferent as a god.
"Though… perhaps there was one unscripted lesson. A spontaneous insertion into the plan. The question is—does it carry hidden risk?"
He ran through his words from earlier that evening, feeding them into the "instrument" of his mind.
In truth, someone bearing the name Otto had no qualification to speak those words to Cecilia.
After all, he had been the greatest manipulator of the Schariac lineage.
But again—
The sins of his former self had nothing to do with the present him.
He was not so conscientious.
Nor so morally burdened.
And besides—
The Schariac family itself would not condemn him.
As for those words…
They should not cause adverse effects.
He had no intention of turning Cecilia into a puppet.
Yes, she would be arranged—carefully positioned—but not reduced to that extent.
Beautiful stories were not performed by marionettes.
Magnificent dramas required living, passionate actors.
In the story he wove for her, the ending was never dependency.
It was strength.
One day, she would stand independently—becoming a pillar of Schicksal's strongest defensive line.
Cecilia must remain vivid. Dynamic.
She should have her own charm, her own relationships, her own future.
Not a vacant, manipulated doll pulled by invisible strings.
Puppets were only useful as mascots.
Or for mechanical, mindless operations.
Yes, humans were unpredictable.
But compared to the benefits humans could bring, such uncertainty was negligible.
And if she ever felt too much warmth and grew resentful of him?
If resentment were to arise—
It would only be because he had chosen that resentment as a tool.
He did not mind cultivating her sense of self.
In fact, he intended to strengthen her desire to live for herself—so she would not sacrifice everything for trivial causes.
Faith built on selflessness could collapse overnight.
Messianic obsession could erode beneath the frost of reality.
But survival—
Survival was etched into human DNA.
As long as she lived, he could restore her—physically and mentally—to optimal condition.
Even death itself—
He could now reverse.
Though such forbidden power was best used with discretion.
"Negative variables eliminated."
"All remains within expectation."
"The narrative proceeds."
He tapped lightly on the windowpane, producing a faint sound only he noticed.
"The seed planted this morning has already taken root."
"I look forward to the feedback."
"I hope you are worthy… of surprising me."
In an unguarded moment, he glanced down toward the street below.
A faint, careless smile curved his lips.
Heh.
So the little rats… aren't limited to just that one.
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