Chapter 12: Three Months
It had been three long months since that incident.
Today was… a special day. If you could even call it that.
Today marked the day the newly brought children of the Hearth would finally "graduate" from their first phase of training. One last test remained, one final trial before they would receive their dog tags and be sent out on real missions.
Osha stood off to the side, lined up with the rest of the children.
Three months ago, there had been nearly eighty of them.
Now… barely thirty remained.
Whether it was luck or the result of actually learning the cruel lessons forced upon them, the outcome was the same.
The weak were gone.
Osha's face was completely unrecognizable compared to before. Where there had once been hesitation, curiosity, even fear, there was now nothing.
Blank. Stoic. Unreadable.
That single incident three months ago had carved something out of him… and whatever filled the void now felt less human.
Osha stood there like a machine, one that had long since forgotten what it meant to feel.
"Telor Snezhevna has completed the trial."
The instructor's voice echoed across the arena. One by one, the instructors and adults began to clap, their applause measured, almost clinical.
At the center of the arena lay the dead body of a Hilichurl.
This was the final trial every child had to face, kill the creature, or survive five minutes against it.
But these weren't the same Hilichurls from the game.
In the game, they were nothing more than trash mobs, simple enemies, to cut down for their masks.
Here… they were different.
Larger than any of the children. Faster. Unpredictable.
They didn't just throw stones or swing clubs. They charged, lunged, tackled, like wild beasts. Once they got their hands on you, it became a desperate struggle to break free.
It wasn't a test.
It was a coin toss between life and death.
Telor stood over her fallen opponent, breathing heavily, her sabre still in hand. There were signs of struggle, torn fabric, uneven footing, but she had won.
She had killed it.
Osha's gaze lingered on her.
The same girl who had cut another child's hand three months ago was considered the one with the most potential in this batch.
And now… she stood victorious.
Clearly, she was exactly the kind of person Crucabena wanted in the Hearth.
The instructor stepped forward and handed Telor her dog tag. She accepted it with a bow, her breathing finally steadying, before being dismissed to the side.
"Osha Snezhevich!"
His name rang out across the arena.
So it was his turn.
Osha stepped forward, already knowing what it meant.
Telor wasn't the only one who had built a reputation here.
After that incident three months ago, Osha had gained one too, one he never asked for. Surviving that incident alone had earned him a certain respect among the others… but it had also taken something from him.
He was different now.
Among the batch, he was considered second only to the best. His eyesight was sharp, his movements precise, quick on his feet, agile, calculating. His acumen in combat had improved rapidly, and over the past three months, he had proven himself again and again in training.
But there was a cost.
He had grown colder. Less kind. Less merciful.
Those unlucky enough to be his sparring partners could feel it, his strikes were harsher, his intent more focused, more efficient. Still… a fragment of his old self remained.
He never crossed that final line.
He never killed anyone, nor did he deal a truly fatal blow, even when others did, whether by accident or intent.
And that… was one of the reasons their numbers had dwindled so drastically.
Not everyone held back.
Osha stepped into the center of the arena as the adults dragged away the Hilichurl's corpse. Others followed behind, quickly mopping the blood from the floor as if it were nothing more than routine.
'I want to sleep…'
The thought drifted through his mind, dull and distant.
Strapped to his back was a carbine musket. Fixed beneath its barrel was the knife Hoshiguma had given him, repurposed into a crude bayonet. He favored fighting at range, but if things got close, he was prepared.
On his right hand was a mechanical glove, something he had asked Freminet to make. Whether it would truly help him… he'd find out soon enough.
The instructor raised a hand, signaling the adults.
From one of the doors, the next Hilichurl was brought out.
"…Abomination."
Osha muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing as he studied it.
The creature noticed him too.
A low, guttural sound escaped it as its body tensed.
"Begin!"
The instructor's shout rang outa nd at that exact moment, the Hilichurl lunged forward, charging at Osha like a dog with rabies.
'Did they drug these things?'
Osha's thoughts raced as he watched the Hilichurls earlier, ferocious, terrifyingly fast. Their movements weren't natural, saliva drooled uncontrollably from their mouths, and their eyes gleamed with a wild, unhinged hunger. These Hilichurls weren't normal.
He didn't care. All he wanted was to survive and get out of here as fast as possible.
Osha shouldered his carbine, taking aim. His breathing was slow, deliberate. Calm. Poised, even as the creature closed the distance with horrifying speed.
*BANG!*
The shot rang out, and the bullet tore through the Hilichurl's knee. The creature flinched violently, a howl of pain ripping from its throat. Osha expected it to falter, to stagger… but it didn't. Even with a shattered joint, it pressed forward, screaming at him with feral rage.
"Tsk."
Osha clicked his tongue, unfazed. No matter. He grabbed a small pouch of blackpowder from his pocket and bit down on it, before charging at the Hilichurl.
As they closed the distance, Osha sprang into action, launching himself high with a front flip just as the Hilichurl lunged to grab him. Cat traits reflexes, combined with months of acrobatics training, allowed him to twist effortlessly in midair, landing on his feet behind the creature.
The Hilichurl stumbled, momentarily dazed, bobbing its head to search for him…
*BANG!*
A bullet tore through its arm.
"RAHHHH!"
The creature roared in agony, swinging wildly, but Osha's calm precision was relentless. Six seconds, just six to seven seconds, were all he needed to reload his carbine. This was why he abandoned the sabre. Range was survival. Range was controlled.
*BANG!*
Osha fired again, and the bullet struck the Hilichurl while it was still distracted in pain, this time into its other knee. The creature collapsed fully, its legs no longer able to hold its weight.
Compared to Telor earlier, who had fought up close and struggled, it was obvious. Fighting from range gave a clear advantage.
'Time to test this…'
Osha flexed his right hand.
With a sharp mechanical click, the glove activated. From the metal frame over his fingers, four serrated steel claws slid out with a clean metallic sound.
Finally… claws like a cat.
Osha circled the wounded Hilichurl as it knelt on the ground, keeping his distance but watching closely. Even now, even with its legs ruined and blood pooling beneath it, the creature still crawls towards him, dragging itself forward inch by inch, its intent to kill unchanged.
As Osha closed the distance, planning to finish it with a clean strike to the back of its neck-
"Hmpf!"
With the last of its strength, the Hilichurl suddenly lunged. It slammed into Osha and dragged him down to the floor.
Osha reacted quickly, raising his carbine between them like a shield. He gritted his teeth as the creature snapped and bit wildly at the weapon, its jaws clamping down with one last desperate fury.
*SHANK*
*SHANK*
*SHANK*
Pinned beneath it, Osha drove his mechanical claws forward again and again into the Hilichurl's lower body. The serrated steel tore through flesh as he kept striking, refusing to let it overpower him.
The Hilichurl thrashed… then slowed… then finally stopped moving.
"Augh."
Osha groaned, shoving the heavy body off him before pushing himself back to his feet.
He looked down.
'My clothes…'
Dark, black blood had splattered across him. His uniform was stained, the smell sharp and metallic in the air.
He flexed his right hand slightly and noticed the mechanical claws.
They were dented. So even that still needed improvements.
"Osha Snezhevich has completed the trial."
The instructor's voice rang out across the arena, and once again the adults responded with that same clinical applause.
Without ceremony, the instructor prepared Osha's dog tag and held it out.
But Osha didn't wait.
He simply stepped forward and took it from the instructor's hand before giving a brief bow, then turned and walked out of the arena.
The instructor didn't reprimand him.
If anything, this was an improvement.
Compared to what Osha had once been, this version of him, quiet, efficient, emotionless, fit far better within the Hearth.
Here, emotions were seen as weakness.
--<>--
"W-welcome back…"
Freminet said quietly. As usual, he was hunched over his work table, surrounded by scattered tools and half-assembled mechanisms.
"Mm."
Osha responded simply. He walked over and placed the slightly dented mechanical glove onto Freminet's work table.
"It broke."
He said it flatly, without emotion.
"O-oh… s-sorry…"
Freminet lowered his head a little as he picked up the clawed gauntlet. His fingers paused when he noticed the dried blood still on it, and he flinched slightly.
"Don't overthink about it. I'm gonna borrow your bathroom for a while."
Osha said, lightly patting Freminet on the head with his clean hand before turning and heading straight for the bathroom.
After that night, after everything that happened, Osha had been sleeping in Freminet's room for the past three months. He hadn't stepped into his old room even once. Not even to look at it.
Freminet had been a little hesitant at first when Osha suddenly decided to stay in his room, but he couldn't really stop him... Because he knew how to lockpick doors now... Besides… things had worked out strangely. Osha often kept the other kids from bothering Freminet, and despite everything, Freminet still remembered that small moment when Osha had given him a macaron.
He still thought Osha was a nice person.
Even if he had clearly changed.
Freminet noticed it, the colder tone, the quieter presence, but he never questioned it.
Clervie had also offered Osha a place in her room, where she stayed alongside Peruere. But Osha declined for some reason.
And now, three months later…
He still hadn't given her an answer whether he would help her with her little dream.
Five minutes later…
Osha stepped out of the bathroom, rubbing his fluffy ears as he walked. His tail swayed lazily behind him.
"Let me borrow this for a moment…"
He reached over and picked up the still-in-progress diving helmet from Freminet's work table, the one Freminet usually wore underwater in the game.
"T-that's still not-"
But Osha had already turned away, ignoring him as he headed straight for the bed. He slipped under the covers and put the helmet on, using it to block out any noise.
"Finished…"
Freminet sighed quietly, watching him. Osha could be troublesome sometimes, but… it was still better than the other kids taking his things and him being unable to do anything about it.
"Good night…"
Freminet said quietly before going back to tinkering.
Dreams were supposed to be an escape from reality, a place of comfort. Or sometimes… nightmares.
Unfortunately for Osha, it was always the latter.
Instead of dreaming about a flying, talking Roach, he kept having the same dream.
Every time he slept.
A pitch-black void stretched endlessly in every direction. In the center of it stood Greedo and Dony, holding hands. Their eyes were hidden behind pitch-black rectangles, like something redacted and erased. They never spoke.
They just stood there.
Watching him.
The first time Osha had this nightmare, he had broken down, apologizing over and over again, his voice echoing into the empty darkness.
But after three months…
It changed.
Now, whenever the dream came, Osha would simply sit in the void with his legs curled up, eyes closed.
Sleeping… inside the dream itself.
--<>--
"Um, Osha…"
Freminet tried waking him by gently shaking his shoulder. Even though he knew Osha would never hurt him, Freminet still moved carefully out of habit.
"Mm?"
Osha let out a quiet groan as he was shaken.
"T-the adults are at the d-door looking for you…"
Freminet said.
"Mm."
Osha groaned again, eyes still closed.
"Osha…"
Freminet called his name once more. Yeah… he could be troublesome sometimes.
"Mm?"
Osha responded again, barely moving.
"They're at the door…"
"Mm."
Osha muttered, simply turning his body toward the wall.
Freminet sighed quietly. What a troublesome roommate he had…
*Knock knock.*
Freminet leaned forward and lightly knocked on the diving helmet Osha was wearing, hoping the sound would get through.
"Okay… I'm up…"
Osha finally sat up in bed and removed the helmet. His hair was slightly messy as he stood and stretched.
"Um… I cleaned this up and f-fixed this…"
Freminet said, handing him his pistol along with the newly improved claw gauntlet.
"Thanks."
Osha replied flatly as he slipped on the gauntlet and tucked the pistol into his uniform.
"B-be careful…"
Freminet said quietly.
"Yeah, don't worry about it… both outcomes will be okay for you anyway."
Osha said, patting Freminet on the head before turning and exiting the room.
"Please come back safely…"
Freminet muttered quietly behind him.
Osha stepped out of the room. Outside Freminet's door, two adults were already waiting, casually talking to each other. One of them was holding a small box.
"Late congratulations to you, Osha Snezhevich. Come, we have a mission for you."
One of the adults said.
Osha gave a small nod in response to the congratulations. Nothing more.
The other adult stepped forward and handed him the box.
"Deliver this to a bar named 'La Delusion Éternelle.' Near the Vasari passage. Tell them the Hearth sent you, and they'll guide you to the hidden section of the bar."
The adult explained.
Osha simply nodded again, accepting the box without a word.
"Give it to their boss… but give him this first."
The adult tossed a plastic bag toward him. Inside was a blue powder, the grains about the size of salt. Osha caught it with his free hand.
"Don't sniff it."
The adult added with a short laugh.
"Tell them the Hearth sends this as an apology."
He smirked before the two adults turned and walked away.
Osha looked down at the small bag of blue powder in his hand for a moment.
"So they have meth here too, huh…"
--<>--
"You can leave me here, Roach."
Osha said as he dismounted from his loyal steed.
Roach gently nudged Osha's uniform with his nuzzle. Osha responded by patting the horse's muzzle, though it still didn't bring a smile to his face.
By now, Osha finally understood what the dream Roach had meant by the whistle. Whenever he whistled loudly, a horse would answer his call, wild or owned, it didn't seem to matter. Somehow, one would always come to him.
After parting ways, Osha continued toward his destination. The city's nighttime grandeur, something he once admired, now went completely unnoticed as he focused on the task at hand.
He paused only briefly near the spinning mechanism at the center of Vasari Passage, watching it turn for a moment before continuing on his way.
It was still early in the night, and the city was lively. People moved through the streets, shopping, eating at restaurants, and chatting as carriages rolled along the roads. Unlike the version he remembered from the game, this city was enormous, its streets actually built to accommodate the constant traffic of horses and carriages.
"This must be it…"
Osha stopped beneath the sign above the entrance.
La Delusion Éternelle.
This was the place.
"No minors allowed, kid."
The bar's bouncer said bluntly, looking down at him.
"Um."
Osha made a small gesture with his hand, signaling that he wanted to whisper something.
"Mm?"
The bouncer raised an eyebrow but knelt down to Osha's height.
"The Hearth sent me. I have something to deliver to your boss, an apology, they said."
Osha explained quietly.
"Oh, you're one of those kids…"
The bouncer straightened up again, looking down at Osha with clear disdain.
"What's in the box?"
His tone grew more cautious now.
Osha opened the box just enough to show the contents. Inside it were more of that blue powder in small plastic bags. The bouncer's eyes widened slightly before a smirk crept onto his face.
"Alright. Follow me. You got any weapons?"
"Just my pistol. It's unloaded."
Osha replied calmly, leaving out the clawed gauntlet in his hand.
"Alright. Don't do anything stupid, kid. For your own good, just drop it off and leave."
The bouncer motioned for him to follow and led Osha inside the bar.
There were a few people scattered around the room, sitting at tables and leaning against the counter. But the moment Osha stepped in, nearly every pair of eyes shifted toward him.
They weren't customers.
They were watching him too closely, too quietly. The way they stood, the way their hands rested near coats or belts, it was obvious.
Actors.
This bar was nothing more than a facade for whatever was really operating beneath it.
The bouncer led Osha to a VIP door and pushed it open, revealing a staircase that went down. They descended for a while, the air growing heavier the deeper they went. Shortly, faint music and bursts of laughter began to echo from below.
At the bottom, the bouncer opened another door.
A thick wave of smoke rolled out to greet them.
Inside the hidden bar were crowds of bored, wealthy people lounging around, flirting with waitresses, all wearing masks that covered their faces. In the middle of the room, a band played lively music, while harsh, colorful lights flickered across the space, bright enough to make Osha's eyes twitch slightly.
At the back sat a man casually playing with a deck of cards, surrounded by several women. Unlike everyone else, he wasn't wearing a mask.
He stood out immediately.
'This place is hurting my eyes…'
Osha thought, squinting slightly as he took in the scene.
"Stay close, kid. Some of the people here actually prefer kids…"
The bouncer said it with clear disdain.
"Uh, thanks."
Osha replied flatly.
The bouncer led him through the crowd toward the man at the back. As instructed, Osha stayed close. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching him, an uncomfortable gaze he couldn't quite pinpoint in the sea of masks.
"Boss, this kid here has something to give you."
The bouncer said, lightly nudging Osha forward toward the table.
"Hm? What's up, kid?"
The boss turned his attention to him, giving Osha a sharp, unimpressed look. He paused his flirting with the woman beside him, cards still loosely held in his hand.
"The Hearth wants to apologize by giving you this…"
Osha said, placing the plastic bag of blue powder onto the table in front of him.
"What is this shit? It's blue."
The boss took the plastic back and pulled out a knife, scooped a small amount from the bag, and brought it up to his nose.
He sniffed it. Then recoiled slightly, his head bobbing back with a sudden jolt.
"Booyah! Whoa! This kicks like a mule with its balls wrapped in duct tape!"
'That's a weird way to say it, but okay.'
Osha thought quietly.
"Ah!"
The woman beside him reached for the blue powder, but the boss slapped her hand away with a harsh flick.
"Fuck off! This is mine!"
The boss barked, his voice echoing across the room.
"Kid, come closer."
He gestured sharply, and Osha stepped forward, wary.
"Keep bringing me that, from now on, I'm your friend, Vallois. Tell your friends back home about that little accident? Gone. Past. Huh? Got it?!"
Vallois put his arm on Osha's shoulder, grinning maniacally, eyes wild and jittery, like he hadn't slept in days.
"You… uh… got any more of this stuff in that little box of yours?"
His gaze shifted to the box in Osha's hands, pupils dilating with excitement.
Osha nodded and handed it over.
"I suggest you finish the first one first…"
"Finish the first one first?!"
Vallois shouted, waving a hand dramatically as if the words themselves offended him.
"Kid, kid, you're right, you're right! Whatever! Just keep bringing me that!"
He snatched the small chest from Osha's hands, practically vibrating with manic energy.
"Bastien! Give the kid… uh, some 'candy,' yeah? For this masterpiece, see him out!"
The bouncer handed Osha a small pouch of Mora, which was clearly not candy.
"I'll pay good Mora for more of this! Get me more, kid!"
He leaned back, inhaled another hit from the powder, and almost tripped over his own chair in excitement.
"You know your way out?"
The bouncer asked, glancing down at Osha.
"Yeah."
Osha replied flatly, slipping the pouch of Mora into his uniform.
"Good. I'm gonna get myself a drink."
The bouncer turned and walked away.
'That thing isn't meth…'
Osha's thoughts flicked to the small box on Vallois's table.
'Why should I care... I'm gonna buy Freminet something outside...'
As Osha stepped toward the exit, a drunken man wearing a mask staggered in front of him, blocking the way.
"Leaving so soon, kitty, mm?"
The man slurred, leaning closer with a lecherous grin.
"Why, you're so adorable!~"
He reached out, hands creeping toward Osha's fluffy ears.
*SHANK*
"AHHH!"
"Fuck off…"
Osha's voice was sharp, filled with disgust. In a swift motion, he struck with his clawed gauntlet, stabbing the man's thigh. The drunk man yelped and stumbled back, clutching his leg, giving Osha just enough space to slip past and out of the bar.
Osha stepped out of the bar and kept walking, putting as much distance between himself and the place as possible. After a short distance, he stopped and glanced back at the building from afar.
Then...
*KABOOM!*
The explosion erupted from deep inside the bar. The ground rumbled slightly under his feet as a muffled shockwave burst outward from below. Windows rattled, and a plume of smoke pushed up from within the building, but the exterior structure itself remained mostly intact.
From the outside, it looked almost untouched.
But underground… that was a different story.
The unlucky ones down there were most likely dead.
Osha stared at it for a moment, expression unchanged.
No one messes with the Hearth and gets away with it easily.
'That really wasn't meth, huh…'
The thought crossed Osha's mind as he walked away from the scene. Good thing his instincts had saved him again.
Did he feel anything about it? About being responsible for taking those lives away in a poof?
Meh.
In his mind, they were scum, scum of the earth, really. The kind of people the world wouldn't miss.
Osha didn't look back again.
'Let's go buy some food…'
--<>--
"Yummers…"
Osha muttered as he tossed another fried onion into his mouth. He sat on a bench near the roadside, staring up at the night sky, his mind blank while he chewed slowly.
Down the street, the commotion had already begun. Members of the Maison Gardiennage were rushing toward the direction of the explosion, while Melusines moved along the road, directing carriages to take different routes and keep the area clear.
But Osha just kept chewing.
"Osha?"
A carriage rolled to a stop near the bench.
"…Shuri?"
Osha's eyes widened slightly as he stood up. He looked toward the carriage window, there she was.
The person who had sold him to the Hearth.
Traded him, to be exact.
"How bold of you to address me by my name now. Did they mold you into a tiger, boy?"
Shuri said with a faint smirk, studying him from inside the carriage.
Was Osha angry seeing this noble woman again? After all, she was the one responsible for everything he had gone through.
Not really.
Maybe he would have been, if she had simply thrown him away for nothing. But she hadn't let him go empty-handed.
"Shuri, why did we stop? I'm staaaarving here! They're going to run out of those Mille-feuille later!"
Osha's eyes widened slightly, his heart beating a little faster at the sound of that voice.
"Yes, yes, my lady. I just saw a friend of mine. Do not fret, I reserved you not one, but three Mille-feuille."
"A friend?"
A moment later, another figure leaned out of the carriage window.
And there she was.
Those striking heterochromatic eyes, the smooth, theatrical voice, and that unmistakably spoiled demeanor.
Furina de Fontaine herself.