On a tiny island less than 200 meters long and 168 meters wide stood a prison known as Château d'If.
Its high stone walls and the roaring sea beyond made escape nearly impossible — once thrown inside, a person might as well have had their wings torn off.
Descending the underground stairs and stepping past the rust-eaten iron door was equivalent to crossing into another world—
A place of darkness and silence, where not even time seemed to move. Only a few narrow slits in the wall allowed thin strands of sunlight to slip inside, offering the cold chamber the faintest warmth.
The walls were rough-cut stone — icy and damp to the touch, reeking of mold.
The uneven stone floor echoed with dull thuds beneath one's feet.
In a corner, a crude wooden plank bed lay still, covered with a few worn mats and a thin blanket — this was all the prisoners had to rest on.
All around, silence reigned. Only prison guards' footsteps or the creak of iron doors occasionally broke the deathlike stillness.
This was the dungeon of Château d'If — not a place for ordinary criminals, but only those accused of treason or requiring severe confinement.
And it was here that Favia had been locked after being escorted inside by Abigail.
Truthfully, this wasn't Favia's first experience being imprisoned — he'd been confined for a few days in Rome. But what concerned him more now was the name the guard had mentioned before leaving—
Faria.
An Italian priest. Faria. Château d'If…
With these clues, Favia quickly understood his current situation—
He was now in the place of the Abbé Faria, mentor of Edmond Dantès from The Count of Monte Cristo.
And according to the guard, "Faria" had only recently been imprisoned — meaning the year was 1811.
Based on the plot of The Count of Monte Cristo, Edmond would not be falsely imprisoned until 1815, and Faria would only meet him in 1821 — teaching him countless knowledge and, before dying in 1829, revealing the location of the treasure of Monte Cristo.
As for the Nasuverse version — Favia remembered well that Abbé Faria truly existed in this world, a man of the Church who betrayed it to hide the fragments of a "treasure that would one day pave a radiant future for mankind." Defeated and captured by Executor Roa and a certain Cardinal who sought that treasure, he was imprisoned for three years in Fénestrelle Fort, then transferred here — to Château d'If.
Yet the guard had said: Faria is already dead…
Favia could guess the reason — most likely the priest's illness: what was known as catalepsy, a neurological condition.
In modern terms: a body-wide stiffening condition — a sudden rigid collapse, immobility, as though dead. Severe cases could be fatal. The older name "wax rigidity" came from the way the body froze — like coated in wax.
But why would he have died more than twenty years ahead of schedule...? Strange.
Favia sighed quietly.
Time-traveling from 1515 to 1811 was bizarre, yes — but hardly shocking.
Time travel wasn't rare in the Moonlit World — take Heartless from Case Files of Lord El-Melloi II: he traveled 30 years back and even took his not-yet-time-travelled self as a disciple.
So overall — not a big problem.
Letting the thoughts go, Favia shifted his gaze to the corner — to the golden-haired girl curled up on the worn straw mat.
Abigail Williams — in her normal state.
Sensing his gaze, the girl timidly turned around.
The moment their eyes met, Favia noticed a faint redness in hers.
Leftover traces from her earlier transformation… or from crying, perhaps.
Before he could speak, the girl darted to him and bowed deeply.
"I—I'm very sorry! Abby didn't mean it! Please forgive me!"
Earlier at the monastery on Monte Cristo Island, Abigail had felt wrong. A strange unease.
The island had seemed lively — but not with festival bustle. Something else.
Just intuition — but an intuition she couldn't ignore.
Standing at a window, her gaze was drawn outward by an invisible pull.
Upon the mirror-calm sea, disturbed only by gentle breeze — a flicker of light among the ripples. A silhouette — a boat.
Someone was coming to the island today…
"...Big brother?"
The words slipped out before she understood why.
A lifelong instinct — since childhood she would subconsciously call toward the north, "big brother."
It always brought a lonely ache to her chest.
But… did she truly have a brother?
An orphan raised in the monastery, she had never left the island. Her world was only the nuns and the villagers.
Over the years of prayer and routine, she constantly heard faint whispers near her ear. Nothing the nuns' "mystic arts" could heal — and yet, Abigail didn't mind. She wasn't harmed. If anything, she gained a secret—
A hidden cave atop the mountain.
Guided by those whispers, she discovered a dark cavern untouched by light. Normally terrifying — but here, she felt only joy.
Here, she could feel something real.
Close her eyes — picture her brother's face — and happiness bloomed.
Following the whispers, she placed the curious silver artifact — pendulum-shaped like a key — into the first hole in the cave's wall. She didn't know why… but she obeyed.
"Well then… I'll go take a look."
Driven by curiosity, she decided to leave the monastery for once.
"Sisters, Abby is going out for a bit. Don't worry — I'll be right back."
She spoke to an empty building.
Nearly all the nuns who raised her had passed away. The last one had tried to send her to Italy — but Abigail refused.
Somewhere inside, she held a hope — that her brother would one day arrive here.
And just as she opened the door—
"...Favia, what's that? Is it what you're looking for?"
"Probably."
A red-haired girl. A silver-haired young man.
A scene and a dialogue suddenly appeared before Abigail's eyes.
But when she blinked — only the door remained.
Still, her feet moved — driven by something unseen.
She did not know them.
But seeing the two together made her… angry.
She didn't know why.
"…Hehe."
Clutching her cheeks, her expression twisted.
Time rewound — just slightly.
The purple mist rose, the trees turned amethyst.
The entire island was swallowed in a dreamlike, delirious ritual.
The little girl no longer smiled nor mocked — only whispered:
"At last… I've been waiting for you, my brother — Favia Williams."
That was what had happened simultaneously while Favia and Baobhan Sith found the cavern at the mountaintop.
—Back to the present.
Abigail trembled as she apologized — aware now of the horrors she had unleashed.
She didn't understand why she had become such a bad kid… no — worse than a villain from a storybook.
"Abby… Abby didn't mean… to…"
Her face burned red with shame.
Why did she call a stranger "big brother"…?
Favia, hearing her trembling plea, could only nod gently.
"Alright."
"Thank you…"
"By the way — do you know me?"
She was still visibly shaken — he tried offering conversation as comfort.
But also — curiosity. How did she know his name?
"Because… Abby put that there…" She pointed at the broken key-like artifact at his chest. "And then… Abby saw you talking to that red-haired sister…"
"I see."
So likely the artifact was originally Abigail's — and he had taken it without permission. She reacted like that because she was angry… probably. That was his best explanation.
"Th-then… as an exchange, Abby wants to ask big brother a question."
Gathering courage, she looked up at him.
"Go ahead."
"Why do you know Abby's name?"
Favia paused, thought, then answered:
"Just like you — I saw you in that moment. So I learned your name, Abigail Williams."
The girl blinked wide — then quickly lowered her head again.
"Then it's my turn to ask — what do I look like to you?"
"Um… you look normal?"
"I mean — do I look young? Or old?"
"Not old at all! Not even a little!"
Strange question — but to Favia, important. The guard had insisted he looked as old as Abbé Faria.
Abigail's answer confirmed his suspicion:
For reasons unknown, everyone except Abigail perceived him as an elderly priest.
"Then Abby's turn next!"
Her hands lifted inside her long sleeves, her body swaying as she spoke — clearly calmer now.
"Alright. Go ahead."
"Why can't anyone see Abby?"
When she followed Favia here, nobody reacted to her. No matter how loud she was — she seemed invisible. Yet she wasn't a ghost — she could touch walls and objects.
"…Sorry. I don't know either. Maybe because of that door."
He truly didn't know why — only a guess.
He then noticed something else — all his Magic Circuits felt… gone.
He couldn't use magecraft at all.
"...I'm very sorry."
She apologized again — even though she didn't understand what she'd done.
"Once is enough. Now — another question."
"Mhm!"
"Why did you call me brother?"
"…I don't know." Abigail shook her head gently. "It just slipped out… Abby doesn't know why…"
"I see. Then that's fine."
If she didn't know, he wouldn't push.
"It's getting late. You should rest on the bed — the straw mats and blanket are barely passable."
"Then… what about big brother?"
Truthfully — the girl was exhausted.
"I still have something to think about… Ah, right. About earlier—thanks."
What Favia referred to was the moment when the prison guard dumped his unconscious body on the ground—someone had acted as a cushion for him. That someone was Abigail, unseen by others, now standing before him.
"No, it's fine… If anything, it's Abigail who should be thanking you. When we fell from the sky, you were the one who saved me."
As she spoke, the blonde girl stole a cautious glance at Favia.
Earlier—out in the vast, endless ocean—she had awakened to a tremendous impact and the sight of the young man before her, drenched in blood. Despite her panic, she summoned her courage and held onto him, refusing to let him sink into the depths. Only by clinging to him did they manage to drift along the raging currents and eventually wash up near an unfamiliar shore.
For someone who was still just a child, holding on for that long had pushed her to her very limits.
"Then let's call it even."
"O… okay…"
As the girl closed her eyes, silence once again reclaimed the dungeon.
This underground cell was always engulfed in oppressive stillness and darkness. At night, even moonlight struggled to reach them. There was no warmth—only death-like silence and bitter cold.
When Abigail next opened her eyes, she couldn't tell how much time had passed. What she did see, however, was Favia lying "asleep" in another corner.
"Do you think… we can still go back? This place… it's so scary…"
"You really want to go back?"
"W-wah! Abigail didn't mean to wake you up…!"
Favia's sudden reply startled her out of her skin.
"I wasn't sleeping… And honestly, I want to go back too."
"…Really?"
"Of course. Leaving without saying goodbye… isn't the right thing to do."
That gentle expression—
—it made her breath hitch.
She pressed a hand over her rapidly beating heart and took a deep breath to calm herself.
They hadn't known each other long.
But this person always did things like this. Unintentionally. Suddenly. Without warning.
There should be a limit to sudden emotional attacks!
If he did it on purpose… she might have accused him of being a bad, bad brother.
Flustered, she averted her gaze and quietly scooted closer to him, draping the thin sheet from her shoulders so it covered more of his side.
In the air was a stifling, numbing stench that belonged to a place meant to kill the mind. Her small fingers tightened around the hem of his clothes—something to hold onto.
"Favia… big brother…"
Half-asleep, she whispered those words.
And so—
In that hell on earth known as the Château d'If Prison, in the year 1811, arrived a young Italian priest—Faria—yet appearing so only through Abigail's eyes, and the very real Abigail whom only he could see.
Ten years later, within this fortress of despair, he would meet another man—
One who had already endured five years of darkness without letting hatred consume him…
—and ignite within that righteous soul a pitch-black inferno of vengeance.
But that day was still far ahead.
Before fate intertwined those threads—
another unexpected visitor would appear.
A young man who had yet to weave his web of schemes across Europe…
A youth still searching for the purpose of his existence.
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