"What the hell are you saying, Kazuki Tanaka!?" Crusch's voice tore through the cold air, her composure fracturing for the first time.
Naturally, his statement was not any side expected.
Tanaka met her gaze calmly, though the dagger at his throat gleamed with a tremor of frost. "It's okay. If I die here, he won't be able to eat my memories."
"Like hell it's okay!" Crusch's shout carried raw disbelief. "All of this—everything—will be meaningless if you die!"
"Crusch," Tanaka said softly, yet his voice carried some weight. "As I told you before, I need you to trust me. You know nothing about this situation."
He knew better than anyone — fighting them head-on was suicide.Regulus, the embodiment of Greed, was literally invincible, with an attack power that was terrifyingly inexplicable.
And Gluttony… Gluttony was somehow. a better fighter, a better martial artist and a better magician than anyone present.
Or rather there was an easy explanation as to how a boy has the experience of veterans, who also has an authority that wipes other people's memories, it was self explanatory.
However, Regulus's authority made no sense, he was immune against any attack he received.
In any case, against either of them, the current force here was laughably insufficient in a direct confrontation.
Then, cutting through the tense silence, came a sneering voice."We think you're bluffing," Lye muttered, his tone dipping into a feral purr. "And it's not conve—"
"Shut your mouth."
Tanaka pressed the blade against his own neck until it kissed flesh. A thin line of crimson bloomed, dripping down to the frozen ground.
"If I let you do as you please," he said, voice low but steady, "you'll devour everyone's names and memories anyway. So I might as well deny you at least one plate."
His tone sharpened. "Think what you want, but you really shouldn't underestimate how much I hate you."
He took a slow breath, the ice dagger trembling ever so slightly against his throat. "You might think this is an easy choice — one life against twenty others. It should be obvious, right?" He gave a small, broken laugh. "But if you ignore my demands, you'll never know how I taste. Gods, I sound deranged…"
Silence stretched again, heavy and suffocating.Then Lye's head tilted, his smile twitching wider, eyes glittering like a child's over stolen candy.
"Alright then…" he murmured, almost reverently.
His muttering began softly but grew in rhythm, like a manic chant."It's an agreement, an accordance, we accept, we consent… It's a pact, it's confirmed, it's settled, it's done, it's a bargain—IT'S A FEAST! HAHAHAHA!"
Tanaka steadied himself, ready to move — when a sudden tug on his shirt stopped him.
He turned, meeting Rem's wide, trembling eyes."Tanaka-kun," she whispered, voice shaking, "what are you trying to do?"
He looked at her — really looked — and saw fear, confusion, and trust all tangled together."I need you to trust me, Rem," he said quietly. "There's no other way out of this."
"Do you have a plan?" she asked, her voice barely holding steady.
Tanaka hesitated for a heartbeat. "…He's going to eat my memories."
Crusch's eyes widened. "How is that supposed to help!?"
"For the next five minutes," Tanaka said, his tone clipped but certain, "I won't know any of you. I won't remember why I'm here. I'm sorry — you'll have to handle that. But it's the only way."He drew in a breath, forcing calm into his trembling hands. "During that time — no matter what happens — do not attack or provoke Greed. As for Gluttony, once he eats my memories, he won't be able to fight. But until then…"
He looked at them both, eyes filled with quiet determination. "Protect me."
Crusch repeated the words under her breath, her voice hollow with disbelief. "Five minutes…?"
It was clear now—Tanaka knew far more about their enemies than anyone else present.His composure, his words, even the strange resignation in his tone all carried the same truth: he'd been here before. He'd seen this.
As unsettling as that realization was, neither Crusch nor Rem had any other choice but to trust him.
"I will not die," Tanaka said quietly, eyes glinting beneath the dim light. "I promise."
His words were contradictory, cryptic even—half comfort, half farewell. Yet somehow, the conviction behind them silenced the protests rising in their throats. Despite their fear, both women felt it: he had a plan. A desperate one, but a plan nonetheless.
And he needed to act fast—because Regulus, the Sin Archbishop of Greed, was the type of man who could slaughter everyone in sight simply because he found waiting a violation of his rights.
Tanaka stepped forward, each crunch of his boots against the snow echoing like the ticking of a clock.He stopped before Lye Batenkaitos—the Sin Archbishop of Gluttony—his posture straight, his breathing measured.
He lowered the ice dagger from his throat, letting it dissipate into a mist of mana.There was no turning back now.
This was the best course of action he could conceive after countless failures. If it didn't work, then he'd die.And if he died, he'd start again.
Again.Again.Again, and again, and again—until he found a path that led to survival.
Lye's gaze flickered with amusement, head tilting in curiosity. "You're trembling… why is that? How interesting. How amusing. How deli—"
"Shut up already," Tanaka snapped, his voice flat and cutting. "I have no interest in hearing you blabber."
Despite the steel in his tone, his hands betrayed him—slight tremors, born not of fear of pain, but of loss.Because for all the horrors his memories contained—all the deaths, all the anguish—they were his.Every scar, every scream, every failure had carved him into who he was now.To lose them… was to lose himself.
And yet, that very fear—the momentary flicker of hesitation—was what made Lye lower his guard.
Lye's lips twisted into a grotesque smile. He stepped forward, one hand rising to cover Tanaka's face, the other glistening with saliva as he licked it slowly—ritualistically.
"Well then," he purred, voice dripping with hunger. "Thank you for the meal."
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The world shifted.
An unseen wind howled past him, sharp and biting, cutting through flesh and bone like shards of frozen glass.Lye blinked — once, twice — but no light came. The darkness was total.It wasn't absence. It was suffocation.
He couldn't see.He could only feel — the cold, the pressure, the endless emptiness that stretched beyond thought.
"Where… is this?" he muttered, his voice trembling against the void.
The wind answered him with a hollow scream.And then, faintly — softly — came the voice of a child.
"Mom… I'm scared…"
Lye turned sharply, his footsteps echoing across an unseen floor.Through the haze of black, a single dim light flickered in the distance — fragile, like a dying ember refusing to go out.
He moved toward it.There, beneath that pale light, he saw her.
A woman — beautiful, with cream-blonde hair and icy blue eyes, dressed in thick layers of fur and wool.Her arms wrapped around a small boy, clutching him tightly, her own body shielding him from the storm.
"It's okay, sweetie," she murmured, her voice trembling but tender."The storm will pass soon. How about I sing you a lullaby? You can sleep through it, hmm?"
The boy nodded weakly."Mhm…"
And so, she began to sing.
"Hush now, the snow is falling slow,Covering dreams the cold winds sow.Close your eyes, my little one,Till dawn returns, till storm is done."
"The moon may hide, the stars may fade,But I am here, don't be afraid.Sleep, my heart, the world will warm,Beyond the frost, beyond the storm."
The melody lingered, soft and distant.But then — the light went out.
The world twisted again, violently.Lye blinked and found himself elsewhere — no longer standing but slumped against a rough wall.The air was thick and metallic. His vision swam in and out of focus.
A hallway. Narrow. Damp.
And the smell — was iron and rot.
Then it hit him.
A sharp, splitting pain erupted through every nerve in his body.It wasn't just pain — it was disintegration.
His hands — or what remained of them — twitched uselessly.Broken fingers curled and uncurled, tendons hanging loose, skin peeled and shredded until bone glistened beneath.He tried to move — to breathe — but all that escaped his throat was a strangled gasp.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaa—"The scream never left his lips. It existed only inside his mind, looping endlessly.
"E--lp... p--lz e--lp...'"
The words clawed at his throat but never came out. Each syllable fell apart before it formed.
His eyes rolled back.Darkness again.Silence.
And at that moment, Lye Batenkaitos lost his life.
___
____
_____
Then, suddenly, he was back.
Back in the void.Back in the cold.
He fell to his knees, gasping, his breaths sharp and uneven.His hands clawed at his face, tearing at his own hair."What was that!? What was that!? What was that!? What was that!? WHAT WAS THAT!?"
The words came out in shrieks, spiraling into hysteria.
And beneath that torment — like a cruel echo from the past — the lullaby resumed.Softer this time. Closer. As if sung directly into his ear.
"The ice may bite, the wind may weep,But souls like ours can never sleep.The ones we love, the ones we lose,Their voices fade like morning dew."
"So hush, my child, the pain will cease,In frozen dreams, you'll find your peace.Rest, my heart, the dark will mend,Till time forgets, till winter ends."
_________________
"I WILL KILL YOU!"
The shriek was raw—feral. It pierced the air like a blade, reverberating across the desolate void. Hatred burned in every syllable, hatred so deep it could freeze fire itself.Tanaka's instincts screamed at him to run, to escape, but his body wouldn't move fast enough.
Something—or someone—was on top of him.
A crushing weight bore down on his chest. Hands—pale as frost and marked with crimson abrasions—clamped around his throat.He gasped for air, but the pressure only increased. Her legs pinned his shoulders, her knees digging in mercilessly.Through the haze of panic, his eyes met hers—icy, unrecognizable, yet painfully familiar.It was her.The same girl from before. But her hair was no longer blue but pink—it shimmered like strands of frostbitten silver. And her eyes, once soft and blue, now burned with a haunting red glow.
The world blurred again.
------------------------------
He was being eaten alive.Flesh torn, nerves screaming—an orchestra of agony played by the claws and fangs of witch beasts. His own voice joined the cacophony, raw and desperate, as blood spattered the ground in rhythmic bursts.
------------------------------
Then—flames. An all-consuming inferno. He felt his skin blister and peel, his lungs melt from the inside as fire swallowed him whole. He saw a silhouette through the haze—a man in a flamboyant robe, staring down at him beneath a mask of sorrow and madness.
------------------------------
Then came the other deaths. A blade severing his head before he even realized it. A dagger sliding into his ribs in the dark. A frozen end buried beneath snow by a great beast. Again and again, in countless ways—he died.
Every sensation, every moment of terror, every final breath—Gluttony felt it all.
___
____
_____
He snapped.
Lye fell to his knees, his screams shattering the silence. He clawed at his own head, tearing at his hair, slamming his forehead against the invisible ground until it cracked and bled.
"STOP THIS! STOP IT! MAKE IT STOP! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
His voice broke into nothingness—just raw, animal noise.
Then, faintly, from somewhere deep within the void—the lullaby returned.
"Hush now, my child, the frost will fade, Beneath the ice, the dreams we made. When morning comes and shadows bend, You'll find me there, beyond the end.
Sleep through the storm, don't weep, don't fear, I'll hold you close, though I'm not near. When snow gives way and rivers mend—Remember me... till winter ends."
His ragged breathing slowed. His trembling hands fell still.
And without realizing it, Lye was back in that space—the dimly lit haven where the woman hummed under the faint glow, holding the child close.
For a fleeting moment, he felt peace. But the illusion was fragile.
Because the moment the melody ceases, that calm will shatter and his sanity will vanish once again.
___
____
_____
"Why are you always alone?"
"Because it's better this way. I won't get distracted… and I won't have to live up to anyone's expectations."
----------------
"When are you planning to tell Hana that you're back?"
"I'm not. Seriously, I can't keep getting in her way. She deserves someone better."
----------------
"I really think they would've wanted you to live."
"Watch your fucking mouth! I don't give a shit what you think!"
----------------
The voices came like echoes underwater—distant, distorted, yet painfully clear. They tore through his thoughts, overlapping, twisting into a thousand whispers that refused to stop.
He tried to think, but the noise drowned him. Thought was no longer possible. Only feeling remained.
He felt the strange comfort hidden within loneliness. He felt the dull ache of endless waiting. He felt the rage that bled from grief and the grief that turned into rage.
It was tearing him apart—every emotion clawing at his chest, shredding the edges of who he was supposed to be.
Then, without warning, the world shifted again.
___
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_____
He stood in a field of silence. A silver-haired girl lay limp in his arms, her breath gone, her skin growing cold. His hand trembled, soaked in her blood, still wrapped around the hilt of the blade buried in her heart.
Slowly, almost tenderly, he brushed the strands of her hair away from her face. Her eyes would never open again. Not because of fate. Not because of anyone else. Because of him.
"I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"The words tumbled from his lips, trembling, frantic.
His tone was broken—too calm for how desperate it sounded.It wasn't truly an apology. It was a plea for punishment.
"I'm so sorry… please… forgive me…"
The guilt hollowed him out from the inside, leaving nothing but emptiness behind.And as his vision blurred, the scene dissolved into white.
With a blink—everything changed again.
___
____
_____
Snow was falling. Not gently, but in thick, relentless sheets that blurred the world into shifting white. The wind howled like a living thing, dragging the snow sideways, biting through skin and bone alike.
Lye squinted into the storm. His breath came out in shallow bursts, each one vanishing instantly into the freezing air. Before him rose four towering walls of black stone—ancient, weathered, and half-buried under layers of frost. A castle, immense and lifeless, its spires lost in the storm's endless curtain.
He realized he was standing atop a hill overlooking its heart. Snow clung to his legs, rising past his knees with every slow, dragging step.The cold gnawed at him, but the scene ahead compelled him forward.
There, amidst the howling white, stood a table and two chairs. A parasol loomed above them, skeletal and half-frozen, its fabric sagging under the weight of the snow. Everything—the chairs, the table, even the parasol—was buried beneath the cold's quiet dominion.
And beside them stood a figure.
Tall. Thin. Motionless. The storm bent around him, as if unwilling to touch him. His hair—white or perhaps simply dusted with snow—whipped wildly in the wind. He faced away, staring downward at something Lye couldn't see.
Lye took a hesitant step forward. Then another. The snow deepened, rising to his thighs, heavy and suffocating. Each movement was an effort, his boots crunching through layers of ice and buried frost.
"...Wh—Who the hell are you? "His voice was broken by the storm, syllables snatched away and scattered through the wind.
The figure didn't answer. Not at first.
Slowly—painfully slowly—he turned.
The world seemed to still for that brief moment. The air grew heavier. The blizzard's roar dulled into a muffled hum, like the world itself was holding its breath.
The man's features came into view—harsh lines carved into a face that had long forgotten warmth. Grey hair fell across his brow, and beneath it, his eyes gleamed a piercing, unnatural blue—cold, endless, and sharp enough to pierce through the storm itself.
When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, yet it carried through the blizzard like thunder.
"That," he said, his gaze pinning Lye where he stood, "is none of your concern."
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Tanaka's eyes snapped open to darkness. Then, a click—light.
He squinted instinctively as the room burst into blinding brightness. The sudden shift made his head throb, his balance faltered, and his knees buckled beneath him.
A strange dizziness coiled through his skull, the air felt too thin—too bright—and before he could even gather his breath, the ground rose up to meet him.
"Tanaka-kun!""Kazuki Tanaka!"
Two voices—female, urgent, overlapping.
He blinked rapidly, the haze clearing just enough for shapes to sharpen. Two figures hovered above him—two beautiful girls, eyes wide with relief and concern. Their presence hit him like a shockwave of déjà vu.
Instinctively, he pushed himself backward, heart racing. His eyes darted around—this wasn't his apartment anymore. The familiar hall, the walls, the light switch—it was all gone.
"I—I'm sorry, who are you!? How did I get here!?"
He was outside. The ground beneath him was soft with grass, the air crisp with daylight. The sky was impossibly blue, and yet his pulse hammered as if the world itself had betrayed him.
Was he dreaming?
"This doesn't make sense… It was night a moment ago…"
"Tanaka-Kun, calm down, you—" Rem started, stepping closer, her hand raised gently.
"Wait—how the hell do you know my name!?"
Before anyone could answer, Crusch's voice cut through sharply."Wait! Kazuki Tanaka—you know your name?"
He looked between them, bewildered. "Know my…? Of course I do, what kind of—"
But his words froze as a scream sliced through the air.
High-pitched. Unbearable.A sound so full of agony it seemed to tear through his chest.
"No! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts!"
The voice didn't stop—it repeated, again and again, spiraling into madness. The sound clawed at his ears, his nerves, until all he could hear was the ragged cry of suffering.
Tanaka's head snapped toward the noise. A boy—young, small, trembling violently—was thrashing on the ground not far away.
"Forgive me!" the child wailed, his voice breaking between sobs. "I'm sorry! I'll never do it again! Never again, please! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
Tanaka's instincts surged. He stumbled forward, hand outstretched. "Oi! Are you okay!?"
But before he could get close, a firm grip yanked him back.Rem's fingers clutched his arm tightly, her expression pale and grave.
"You mustn't, Tanaka-kun!" she warned. "That's the Sin Archbishop of Gluttony!"
He turned to her, disbelief twisting his features. "Sin Archbishop? What the hell are you talking about!? He's just a kid! Why is no one helping him!?"
Crusch's voice came from behind him, low and tense. "Sit still, just for a moment. This must have been your plan… what in the world did you do, Kazuki Tanaka?"
Tanaka snapped his head toward her. "Since earlier I don't understand anything you're saying! Who are you people!?"
Crusch's composure flickered, her gaze flicking briefly toward Rem before she answered, "For now, you can think of us as your friends."
he didn't get the chance to retort.
Because the air suddenly went still.
The boy's screaming—the begging, the crying—stopped.Just like that.
As if someone had muted the world.
The silence that followed was worse.
Then, a soft voice broke it—calm, eerily calm."Well…"
Lye stood up. His movements were slow, deliberate, almost fascinated.He brushed the dirt from his clothes, turning his hands over as if inspecting something unfamiliar.
His tone was different now. Detached. Clinical.
"This is… unexpected."