Vierna kept staring at her book, though it was clearly just a distraction.

  Beside her, Lina had slumped over mid-reading, already snoring softly. Nothing in the world seemed capable of disturbing her. She slept with such careless ease it felt as though even a mana beast’s roar wouldn’t wake her—she’d probably just roll over and brush it off.

  But not even Lina’s adorably slack sleeping face made Vierna want to tease her.

  She gave up on the book and looked at her hand, the hand which held the gun shooting the boy, somehow when she focused on it, it trembled again as if the gun was still there.

  She had thought it was over. The guilt. The doubt. The execution. She assumed that ‘Alice’ already long dead along with her longing for normalcy, her childish desire for companionship and camaraderie.

  But apparently that’s not the case, when she tried to distract herself at noon, following Lina and Alb around, pretend to be normal, that pretending felt too real, which means that somehow ‘Alice’ was still there.

  And now the guilt of executing a boy? It appears that it was only buried, shallowly, beneath the day’s distractions. Alb. The Duelhaus. The feast. All of it just a mask. And now that she was truly alone, the thoughts returned. Haunting her like a relentless phantom.

  She wandered around her room, trying to find something to distract her mind which to no avail. She looked at the door to her room. It was always locked, only opening when someone from the outside allowed it. Still, she walked toward it. Either something was pulling her, or she just wanted the illusion of being able to leave.

  Click. The door opened.

  Vierna froze, wide-eyed, unable to understand why it had allowed her through. Yet she didn’t linger. She stepped out.

  The corridor was mostly empty. Only the faint hum of runic devices along the cold white walls remained, interrupted now and then by distant cries or screams.

  She knew exactly what this place was. A facility designed to "repair" and "enhance" people. She used to believe she understood it completely. She had once declared it her heaven.

  But now, after executing a boy on command, she wasn’t so sure. If only this place just ‘cure’ her then it would be completely fine.

  She couldn’t show doubt to Lina. Not when Lina had only just begun to believe. Vierna couldn’t shatter the very faith she had helped build. This burden, she would carry it alone.

  She wandered the research facility in silence. Eventually, she reached the hall where Halwen had once shown her the moonlight.

  For a moment, she considered stepping in, confessing her sin to the moon itself. But her legs refused to move.

  What if the moon did not forgive her? What if, instead of absolution, it reflected only the blood of the boy she had shot in cold blood in front of the town?

  Vierna dropped to her knees.

  The phantom that haunted her now felt alive—strangling her, clawing at her chest. She tried to close her eyes, but the images only grew sharper. She covered her ears, but the voice grew louder.

  Murderer. Murderer. Murderer.

  It echoed, again and again.

  No, no! I helped the town I am not a murderer.

  But it just sounds like a death row inmate trying to overturn a verdict that has long passed. A desperate scream among the storms of turmoil rampaging throughout her conscience.

  The blood chain that came out of the apparition of the boy’s corpse bound her body, suffocating and pulverizing her soul, which manifested as a phantom pain in her body. Her hands shook, unable to support her frame, burdened by the lingering corpse of the boy she shot under the order of the One-Eyed Snake.

  She covered her ears, hitting her own head with her hand, as if it would bring the numbness she so desperately needed.

  "Vierna?"

  A voice broke through the panic. Clear. Real. It cut through the storm like a blade.

  She looked toward the source of the voice.

  Halwen stood there. Middle-aged, dressed in his sharp Reich officer’s coat the formal dress from before.

  "Herr Halwen, forgive me." Vierna quickly wiped her tears. "The door opened and I—I don’t know, I just walked. Forgive me, I will—"

  "Shhh. Follow me," Halwen said.

  They walked in silence until they reached a room.

  It was meticulously arranged. Every object had its place. A peculiar aroma lingered in the air grapey, rich, and deliberate.

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  Wine, Vierna thought.

  "Now, Vierna. Why were you there?"

  "I don't know, Herr Halwen. I was just walking around, and I kind of... froze there," Vierna said, lowering her gaze.

  "Is that so? Then tell me—how was your day?"

  Vierna recounted her day as briefly as she could, each word clipped, like she feared lingering too long on any one memory. Yet she spoke of the strange boy at the tavern, her voice catching as she described how he teased both her and Lina. She never gave his name, too busy hiding behind the banter, letting the details of his mocking grin cover the tremor in her throat. From there she drifted into safer things—the Duellhaus, Edels, Tessa—pouring out every scrap she could recall. The more she talked, the less room there was for silence, and the less chance Halwen would circle back to the real question. Why she had collapsed.

  Halwen listened carefully. He nodded. Smiled politely at her jokes. Never interrupted. He however knew what she tried to do.

  “Vierna, why did you kneel in that room before?”

  "Herr Halwen, I... I—"

  "Is it about the execution?"

  The question landed like a stone, the one Vierna had tried so hard to avoid. Part of her longed to confess, to spill everything before it ate her alive. Yet another part clung stubbornly to silence, unwilling to burden Halwen with her unrest.

  “I… I don’t know,” she whispered. “Hehe maybe I was just tired after all and dropped to my knees when I want to saw the moon.”

  Halwen did not answer right away. His silence pressed heavier than words, and when her eyes met his, the weight of his gaze cut through her excuse like glass through cloth. It stripped her down to what she was really hiding.

  The dam inside her broke.

  "Herr Halwen, am I broken?" her voice came softer now. "Lina asked me the same thing. Because I told her this facility was our heaven. I said it with conviction. That we weren’t broken. That this place was curing us."

  She looked at him, eyes beginning to glisten again.

  "But now... I’m not sure anymore. Maybe I was just distracted. And when I really think about it... was Lina right?"

  The universe had a cruel sense of humor.

  Lina was the one who needed convincing. Vierna did the convincing. And Halwen, he had thought Vierna was just another indoctrinated child. A perfect product of the system.

  But somehow, her humanity had survived. Despite everything Einhartturm threw at her, it clung on.

  And now, Halwen stood at a crossroads.

  Should he go back? Return to the man he used to be, the one who still believed in moral clarity?

  Or should he do what the system demanded? Convince Vierna that it was the right thing to do?

  "Vierna, what do you think heaven is?" Halwen asked.

  "I think... heaven should be a place where your effort matters. Where you're not judged just for your defects. Where you're allowed to prove yourself by showing what you're truly capable of," Vierna replied.

  "Then doesn’t Einhartturm and this facility fit that description?"

  Sometimes the line between collapse and recovery was no more than an hour, a moment, a feast. If she had come to him sooner, before he saw the fire in Lina’s eyes, the relentless hunger for revenge, maybe he would have agreed. Maybe he would have told her she was right. That they should run. That there was still a life beyond these walls.

  But that version of Halwen no longer existed.

  Now, he was changed, he believed that indoctrination is the best for both Lina and Vierna to ensure their survival.

  "So, I’m not wrong, Herr Halwen? This place really is heaven?"

  "Yes. Your version of heaven," Halwen replied.

  He could see it, a bit of relief in Vierna’s face, though doubt still lingered beneath.

  "Then why did I tremble when I executed the boy? Why do I long for companionship when I’m with Lina? If I truly believe in this place, shouldn’t I kill all emotion and serve the Reich with everything I have?"

  "Vierna, do you know what a golem is?" Halwen asked.

  "An automatic doll, kept alive by magic, that does whatever the caster commands?"

  "Correct. So what’s the fundamental difference between a human and a golem?"

  "......"

  "A golem feels nothing. A human does. And in a broader sense, that’s exactly why human soldiers still exist. What you feel isn’t weakness, it’s humanity. Plain and simple. And it needs to be preserved, or else you’re no different from a limited construct like a golem."

  "People say a good soldier follows orders. But that doesn't mean a good soldier has no humanity. On the contrary, humanity is essential. Because a soldier’s duty is to protect. And without humanity, how can anyone truly protect another?

  "A real soldier follows orders while fully understanding what those orders cost. And still, they choose to carry them out. That is what makes it a sacrifice. A selfless one, for the greater good.

  "You don’t need to erase your humanity, or your longing for friendship. Let them fuel your service. Let each act you take be a conscious sacrifice. But remember, do not let your humanity hinder your actions. Keep it under control."

  If Halwen had truly followed the Reich’s doctrine to the letter, he would have smothered this spark in her, killed the last fragile remnant of innocence still clinging to her heart. That was the mandate—emotion was weakness, doubt was rot.

  But he couldn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to crush what remained of her humanity. So instead he justified it, quietly, to himself as much as to her. A soldier who obeyed blindly would break the moment a sharper argument cut through their orders. But one who understood, who saw clearly and still chose to obey—that kind of obedience was iron. That was harder to shatter.

  Vierna’s eyes met Halwen’s.

  "So it’s okay for me to want friends and still serve the Reich? It doesn’t contradict?"

  "It doesn’t. If anything, it will make you fight harder. So now, Vierna—don’t be a golem. Be yourself. Serve fully. Protect Lina. Protect the Reich."

  "But… the execution."

  "The boy deserted. He let others die because of his selfishness. Put it this way—if you hadn’t executed him, someone else would have."

  "So I helped the town? I was useful?"

  "Yes, Vierna. You were."

  Vierna looked at Halwen, her eyes full of tears but somehow it didn’t feel like it was sorrow or sadness.

  "Thank you, Herr Halwen."

  "You’re welcome, Vierna. Now go get some sleep. We have a long day ahead."

  They both stood.

  "Herr Halwen?"

  "Yes, Vierna?"

  "...Can I hug you?"

  "You may."

  She hugged him with all her strength, and Halwen returned it.

  Whether he had saved a sliver of her humanity or not only time would tell. But for now, the storm passed calmed down by the words of a particular researcher.

  Vierna returned to her room, escorted by Halwen. They found Lina still asleep at the desk.

  Halwen gently picked her up and carried her to the bed. Vierna followed, curling beside her, hugging her like a pillow.

  The two girls drifted into sleep.

  Halwen stood at the door for a moment longer, watching them.

  His creations.

  A new Lina. A new Vierna.

  Then he turned and left.

  Night bled into morning.

  A new day awaited the brand-new girls.

  Should one day Vierna regret this moment or not?