“Ruli,” Akuma said simply, smiling down at the shackled man. “It’s been a while. Come to see me get wed?” She reached down, her fingers hovering just above the scars. “You came. I had wondered if you still held me in your thoughts. Tell me, how is Envy?” She smiled wider as she said the Kartaian’s name, then glanced at her hand, as if only just then noticing the bloodstains on the palm. “My boy,” she called over her shoulder, “do come in here. You should be properly introduced, if you are going to be a lord of Cordon.”
Gavin stepped inside, almost as pale as the bloodless dolls outside. She smiled and touched his shoulder. “Gavin of House Gemini, Gavin of Amria, meet Rulitus of Ziad.” Her nails dug into his shoulder. “Say hello, Gavin.”
“H-hello.” 
“Remind me again, Gavin, what you had been before we found you.”
“Nothing. I was nothing.” He glared down at the table, unable to look Ruli in the eyes, reduced to a chastised boy before this monster. His wild hope turned to despair, and he felt like he could throw up any minute. How much of this had been a trap? How much of what he had thought was defiance was foreseen? Or did she merely sniff it out of him all this time, and waited? 
“It’s not too late, you know,” Akuma crooned to Ruli. “You can be like Gavin. You can still be mine. You can rise above these worthless lot. You have so much potential. We, all of us, are [i]material[/i], and molded by the right hands, we can build an empire here.” She paused, looking sideways, as if sensing something, before turning back to Ruli, touching his arm. “Really, we were surprised you’d be helping her. Or that [i]she[/i] would be asking for help. She likes carrying the world on her own shoulders, then moaning about the weight. So much self-sacrifice, so much conflict, in that pretty head. I should know,” she said, tapping her temple, as if all this was somehow amusing. 

Gavin’s thoughts began to cloud over, the part of him that had surrendered to Akuma’s hold on his mind taking over now, numbing him. Akuma had fallen silent. “She is coming,” she murmured, and the thought gave her the widest smile. [i]The Beloved. The Paladin.[/i] The other dolls entered then, blank and soulless. “Gavin, be a good boy and give him a dose. I’m sure you’ve seen him do it. I want to show him something.” Gavin’s eyes wept freely, standing rooted to the spot. But Akuma looked over her shoulder at him, her red eyes on his green ones, and he went completely numb, going through the motions of drugging him. The dolls, meanwhile, upon Akuma’s instructions removed all the shackles save for one on his right hand, then pushed him upright so that he could see the rune chamber. 

“Now, we are all about to meet the Empress of Amria.” 

--
“Fucking—bastards!” Kire cursed as she ran up at Ysaryn’s urging, rushing up as fast as she could. The smell reminded her of the burning at the warehouse, only worse. On top of the staircase she saw a figure like one of the Kartaian dolls and was about to leap at him, until she recognized him. He was pointing, mouthing something, though words didn’t come out. Kire’s eyes widened. Before she could do anything, though, Ysaryn lunged, trapping him against the wall. “Wait!” Kire put a hand gently on her shoulder. “He’s the half-Kartaian. He was pointing that way.” She turned to him. “Is that where he is?” Behind them, she could hear the infernal dolls, and she knew they needed to move faster. They’d just have to trust him. 

Through the winding tunnels, not daring to stop and feel her exhaustion. Ysaryn was still with her, despite her injuries. Kire couldn’t fail now. They were so close. They ran till she couldn’t keep track of the bends and forks in the corridors, till they reached one mineshaft that was clearly different from the others. It was quieter here, colder. The carved stairs more polished than the ones they had left behind. The signatures were getting more distinct; they were on the right track. That eerie chill, too, was getting stronger. This time, Kire took the lead, running ahead of the elves. If there were any dolls lying in wait, they weren’t on the way.

[i]Orchids. Plums. Death.[/i] Kire found herself staring down a staircase and into a circular hall with rune circles. Kire inhaled sharply. There were dolls lining the walls, but they weren’t moving. “Your Highness Akire,” one said, stepping out into view. [i]Akuma.[/i] 
“Ysaryn.” Kire’s voice was low. “He’s down there. Chamber to the right. With the Gemini. If you can get to him—the moment you get Ruli. You take him, and you go. Understand?” 
“Your Highness,” Akuma repeated. “Oh. I am not observing the protocols.” She smiled and dipped into a curtsy. “My honor to have finally met you formally.” 
Kire didn’t answer, had nothing to say to this doll, no answer for the taunts Ikegai had already given her before, only this time spoken with her own voice, through her lips. Kire leaped off the stairs, disappeared in a blue flash, and reappeared where Akuma had been, striking with her sword.

Except, she found herself in the middle of a town. [i]Holy gods.[/i] She knew this village. 

Around her, her own soldiers pillaged the town, burning it, putting its people to the sword. They were within the borders of Gemini territory. The skies were red, remnants of the Black Storm that had devastated this side of Amria mere days ago. And Kire, newly Empress, newly orphaned, and burning with a cold anger that made her eyes gleam red, had marched her army through it. 
“This isn’t real,” she said aloud, reliving one of her greatest horrors. The sword wavered in her hand as she watched the slaughter that happened under her command. She may have become impervious to Ikegai’s control, but [i]this…[/i] “This isn’t real!” she cried out, running towards the nearest soldier. As she got nearer, the soldier faced her, and it had her face. 

Kire was sent flying back with a blow from Akuma, slamming against the cavern wall. Her head spun, her gaze unfocused, her mind seeing both the real chamber and the illusion. She was reeling, too, from using the portal, and had only just ducked in time before Akuma’s powerful second strike. Kire rolled away, running for her sword. “You know you’re not my opposite, Your Highness. I am your child, after all. I came from your soul. Ikegai knows you so well. And you’ve fought his dolls so often, seen you move so often, that he has quite a good picture of it. Enough to give to me.” Akuma grinned then. “Are you angry at me for invading and slaughtering a city? Perhaps look in a mirror, Sire.” 

She aimed another blow at Kire’s middle; still confused by the illusions, Kire was a hair too slow to evade and crumpled upon contact, coughing up blood. The cuirass’s enchantment held, but Kire felt the full force of it, anyway. [i]The blood. She draws strength from it. She’s toying with me.[/i] Akuma must have sensed that Kire needed a bit longer before calling upon the dragon-strength again. [i]Move, Kay! Move, or she’ll kill you![/i] 

Gavin watched, horrified though rooted to the spot, surrounded by dolls. He saw the visions given life, and now remembered, with a sickening feeling, that he had helped carve those runes onto the floor. He glanced sideways at Rulitus. He had obeyed, he [i]had[/i] given Ruli a dose—but his conscious mind held on just enough to give the wrong dose. A stimulant.