As Halwen and Leopold concluded their discussion of Plan Ewige Schlange, they made their way toward the girls’ new quarters. The announcement would begin soon. They were there to brief the two subjects—to instruct them to assemble at the plaza.
They also wanted to observe how the adjustment was going.
It was unprecedented. Two subjects sharing a room.
But the Arkmarschall had ordered it.
No one asked why. Not even those who should have.
Curiosity lingered—but not enough to challenge command.
The pair stepped silently into the room, they found the girls seated at a tidy desk—Vierna’s.
She was writing on a sheet of paper. Lina, unmasked, sat beside her, pointing at something—a magical diagram, perhaps. Or a prototype. Whatever it was, they were absorbed. And they were doing it together.
Halwen’s eyes wandered to the beds. They’d been pushed together, forming a single unit in the center of the room.
No staff would’ve done that. Which meant the girls had taken the liberty themselves.
He turned to the Arkmarschall— and caught something no wall was ever meant to do
A smile.
It startled Halwen more than it should’ve. Because for once, the wall wasn’t blank. For once, the wall had seen something it liked.
“I see the staff made a mistake arranging the beds,” Leopold said.
The girls froze. Then, in unison, straightened their backs. Like marionettes yanked by their strings, they turned to face the Arkmarschall.
“Arkmarschall, it’s not— it’s not what it—”
“No explanation needed.” He said, then he turned to Halwen, “have the staff replace them with a single proper bed. This arrangement is suboptimal.”
Vierna didn’t know what to say.
Lina blinked, stunned.
They had pushed the beds together on impulse—nothing more than a shared instinct to be near. They hadn’t thought about the consequences. Had they been rational, they would’ve expected a reprimand for altering the facility’s arrangement.
But instead, they saw generosity.
The Arkmarschall continued.
“I see you’ve discarded your mask,” the Arkmarschall said.
Lina blinked.
Only then did she realize—she hadn’t worn it since that moment with Vierna.
She hadn’t even noticed.
In Vierna’s presence, her fear had dissolved so quietly, it no longer needed hiding.
What she hadn’t realized—what truly caught her off guard—
was how closely the Arkmarschall had been watching.
She thought she was forgotten.
Like a stained washcloth—no longer clean, no longer useful.
Ruined beyond all the “repairs” they forced upon her.
The Arkmarschall’s voice followed, calm and smooth.
“Halwen. Update subject G5—no. Update Lina. She’s no longer on hold. Resume the Grace procedure. Prepare everything she’ll need.”
“I—Arkmarschall, thank—” Lina said
“Hold it.” He raised a hand.
With deliberate precision, the Arkmarschall raised his hand and began to trace a sigil into the air—each stroke sharp as a blade, geometric and cruel in its symmetry. The lines shimmered in a deep, metallic black, etching themselves into the air like molten iron carving through glass.
It wasn’t just spellwork. It was language—an ancient dialect of command, authority encoded into shape. A tongue spoken not with sound, but with intent. Most mages would have bled from the eyes just attempting it.
The finished sigil pulsed once, then unraveled. Wisps of dark light poured from it, like black smoke sinking in reverse. They spiraled toward Lina’s throat and vanished into her skin without a sound.
A warmth bloomed at her vocal cords.
“There,” the Arkmarschall said. “Now speak.”
“A-Arkmarschall, I—” she began, almost breathless.
She meant to thank him.
But the words caught.
Because the voice was hers, yes. But the ruin still throbbed. Her face—the twisted skin, the damage they couldn't undo—remained.
He hadn’t healed her. Not truly.
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Only rewound one string in the instrument they broke.
The Arkmarschall studied her reaction—quietly, without comment.
Then he spoke.
“I hoped it would be enough,” he said. “I cannot restore your face to how it was.”
Lina shook her head, fast, too fast.
“No—Arkmarschall, I—thank you. Really. This is more than enough.”
Her hand hovered near her throat again.
The sound of her voice still rang in her ears like a forgotten lullaby—something sacred returned.
The scars were still there. Ugly. Irredeemable.
But the voice?
The voice made her feel like maybe she wasn’t.
The Arkmarschall nodded.
“Your training begins in two days,” he said. “Both of you will participate in Plan Ewige Schlange—a long-term operation to expand the Reich’s influence beyond our current border. Halwen will brief you on the details.”
He paused.
“I only want one answer from you.”
The girls didn’t hesitate.
They stood. Straightened. Voices rang out as one:
“Yes, Arkmarschall! For the Reich! For Order! For Truth!”
Like strings pulled taut by a single hand.
“For the Reich. For Order. And for Truth,” the Arkmarschall replied
Halwen stared at them, his face pale.
It was like watching two girls ordered to march into the jaws of a beast—and cheer for it.
That voice—the one Lina had lost, the one he’d watched crumble—Leopold had given it back.
Not out of mercy.
But as a weapon.
He had calculated everything.
The beds. The mask. The magic.
He knew exactly what he needed to do to make them his.
And now?
He had forged two broken girls into blades—
And pointed them at the Imperium.
Then, the Arkmarschall turned.
“I’ll leave you two now. Halwen, prepare the girls for the announcement. I want them present.”
The door clicked shut behind him.
“Alright, let’s—”
“Uncle Halwen,” Lina cut in.
Halwen froze.
She hadn’t called him that since before the procedure. Since before everything fell apart.
The last time he’d tried to speak to her, she’d barely looked at him. And every time after—
he couldn’t do it.
Couldn’t bridge the gap.
The guilt hit him like a blade—swinging low and fast, guillotine-sharp.
He’d helped them do it. Let her be carved open, rewritten.
And now here she was.
Lina stepped forward. Her voice was steady. Almost cheerful.
“Thank you,” she said. “For bringing me here. For letting them inject me with Grace.”
She hugged him.
“I can fight now. I can avenge Ma and Pa.”
It was supposed to feel like redemption.
But to Halwen, it felt like watching his niece sink deeper into the abyss—
and knowing he was the one who handed her the weight.
And now?
There was nothing left he could do but watch her disappear smiling.
Sweat beaded on Halwen’s brow—cold, sudden, and wrong. Panic rushed like venom in his veins.
She’s not stable He thought.
Even if she was, I should stop her, both of them from plan Ewige Schlange
As Lina turned happily to converse with Vierna, Halwen bolted.
He turned, boots echoing through the corridor as he sprinted after the Arkmarschall.
“Arkmarschall Leopold—!” he called, panting.
The man stopped.
Halwen caught up, breath ragged. “Please… reconsider. Subject—no, Lina and Vierna—they’re not ready for this mission. They’re just—”
Leopold turned his head.
His gaze landed on Halwen with that same unfathomable stillness, blank, immaculate control. A wall that no emotion could breach.
“I could do that,” he said, voice calm. “Let them stay here. Let them live as what they were always meant to be—experiment subjects.”
He paused. Just long enough.
“But you’ll be the one to tell them. That it was you who asked me to stop it. That it was your request that denied them this mission.”
Halwen froze.
Because he knew he couldn’t.
Not after what he’d seen in that room. The fire in their eyes. The pride. The belief that this was purpose—that they were chosen, not used.
To take it away now would crush them.
And Leopold knew it.
He hadn’t punished him for insubordination. He hadn’t needed to. He’d let logic carve him open, let inevitability speak louder than any order.
Leopold took a step closer.
His tone didn’t shift.
“Besides,” he said, “I’m not rushing the operation.”
He gestured subtly with one hand—like brushing dust from an invisible thread.
“I want them to survive. That’s why they need training. The kind you’ll give. In the end, their success depends on your devotion more than mine.”
Halwen said nothing.
“I know Lina is your niece. And Vierna... she’s grown on you.”
“It’s the same with me. I admire them both. I do want them to thrive.”
He looked ahead again.
“But you can’t shape a diamond without pressure.”
“And the ones that don’t survive it? Were never meant to shine.”
There was no point.
You didn’t argue with a man like this. You endured him.
And then tried, in whatever small way, to lessen the damage he left behind.
He exhaled slowly.
Resolved, but hollow.
The Arkmarschall’s voice followed, smooth as always.
“To ensure their success, I’ll spare no expense in their preparation.”
“Use whatever you need. Do whatever it takes. I want them combat-ready by the end of the season.”
“And from this point forward, I grant you full authority over their procedures.”
“They’re not subjects anymore, Halwen.”
“They’re my blades.”
“And I want them sharp.”
When Halwen was pushed against the psychological snare deployed by the One-Eyed snake. The Girls room filled with joy
“I’m so glad for you, Lina,” Vierna said, her voice catching. She blinked rapidly, but the glisten in her eyes betrayed her. She meant it—fully, fiercely.
Lina laughed. Her hand hovered over her throat, still surprised to hear her old voice again.
“After all this time… I really thought I was broken,” she said. “Just another failed graft. But the Arkmarschall—he believed in me. He saw me.”
Her smile twisted.
“I’ll master my Grace. I’ll hunt every last one of those Imperium bastards. Burn them, gut them, skewer their rotting heads on spikes—”
Vierna said nothing.
She listened as her friend spoke of torture and fire and vengeance—not with fear, but with awe.
It was like watching a shadow take shape, growing deeper and darker with every word.
But instead of recoiling, she welcomed it.
Because that shadow had a voice.
And that voice belonged to Lina—
speaking, for once, with clarity, with conviction.
And to Vierna, even darkness sounded pristine if it came from her.
Lina’s fury softened, her voice quieter now.
“Thank you, Vierna,” she said.
“I get it now. Why you said this place is heaven.”
Her eyes found Vierna’s.
“You were right. This is our heaven.”
“Don’t mention it,” Vierna said, almost gently.
“And I’d love to help you with your revenge, Lina. I want to be there when you do it.”
They shared a hug, like pact of blood being re-affirmed.
Then Lina pulled back, blinking.
“Oh yeah… we’re supposed to get ready for the announcement, right?”
“Yes,” Vierna nodded. “We should change. We need to look our best.”
“Where did you think Uncle Halwen ran off to?”
“Maybe he’s prepping your procedure?” Vierna offered. “Who knows. But he’ll come back. We can’t keep him waiting, can we?”
“Nope,” Lina said with a smile. “Let’s take a shower first. Looks like we’ve got a private one. No more communal stalls.”
“Luxury,” Vierna murmured.
And just like that, they left the room—
as if nothing had happened.
As if vengeance and blood were things girls always talked about before washing up.
But thats just the start of the descent.
Is Leopold generous here?
