“Nnnngh…”

  Vierna tried to hold the pain. This modification procedure was by far the worst she had ever endured. It felt like thousands of insects gnawed and burrowed beneath her skin, biting, tearing, then stitching the flesh back together only to rip it apart again. Needles, countless needles, pierced every orifice, snagging and dragging her skin as if her body were being reshaped by a cruel tailor. Her bones stretched with grinding pops, pulling her taller. Even under the Arkmarschall’s spell, she still could feel everything.

  “AAAAAGHHH, STOP!”

  Beside her, Lina thrashed violently, the restraints groaning under the strain. Her body jerked uncontrollably, caught between agony and seizure. Vierna guessed that her own torment was less than Lina’s—maybe because of the muscle replacement procedure, or perhaps something else she couldn’t explain.

  While her body screamed in pain, it was the sight and sound of Lina’s suffering that pierced her soul the most. She clenched her jaw, determined not to scream as she had during the Ignition procedure—but the effort was futile. Cries still slipped out, ragged and broken, spilling from her lips through cracks in her resolve.

  And yet, despite her own pain, she was more worried about Lina’s condition. She gripped Lina’s hand, hoping that it would help her somehow. But Lina’s shrieks only grew louder, drowned beneath the grinding of needles and the sickening sound of bones being pulled into new shapes. Her body convulsed as the machine remolded her piece by agonizing piece.

  The procedure dragged on until evening, the clock creeping toward five.

  “There. Done,” Halwen muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. His gloves were faintly stained red from handling their reshaped flesh.

  The room was quiet now, the screaming gone, leaving only the hiss of the machines and the ragged sound of their breathing. Vierna slid off the table, her legs trembling as if they still remembered the needles. She staggered once, then steadied herself.

  She turned toward the mirror

  At first, she thought the glass was broken. The reflection shifted when she moved, copying her gestures, her touch against her cheek. But the face staring back was not the one she knew.

  She was taller, her frame stretched unnaturally. Her figure had been forced into fullness, as if a rose had been made to bloom in a single night. Her hair, once silver and frail, was now a deep black, flowing and lush, like the pale sky surrendering to night. The Kagemori markings had vanished. Her face was sharper, older, as though five years had been stolen from her future and grafted onto her now. Her limbs were longer, leaner, unnervingly graceful.

  She brushed her fingers over her arm. Her skin was smooth and pale, luminous like wet marble, as though the procedure had polished her into something unreal. When the Reich chose to disguise someone, they left nothing untouched.

  For a moment, a hollow, dangerous thought crept in: If I were always like this, I might fall in love with myself.

  “HUUUURK—” The sound ripped out beside her which prompt her to look behind.

  The girl doubling over had long blonde hair, lustrous and reaching her waist, brushed back by an arm too graceful to belong to Lina. Yet who else could it be? Only she and Lina had undergone the procedure.

  “Oh gods, I vomited up everything I ate at Albrecht’s… now I’ll have to go back to that gray slop again…” Lina groaned, clutching her stomach.

  Lina walked toward the mirror. The moment her reflection stared back, her mouth fell open. She raised her hands, touching her cheeks, repeating the same gestures Vierna had, confirming it was truly her body. Then she froze—her eyes widened. The scar that had marked her face for what felt like years was gone, erased as if it had never existed.

  “Hehe… you look cute,” Vierna said, stepping up behind her.

  “But my hair… I loved that we had matching hair…” Lina whispered, her fingers lingering on her blonde strands. “And I also liked my scar.”

  “What? Didn’t you hate it?”

  “No. Because it led me to you, Vierna. I’m proud of that scar now.”

  For Lina to love something that had once mangled her life, something that denied her the prospect of ever being whole or perfect—simply because it had brought them together—warmed Vierna’s heart. As long as Lina was there, everything would be fine.

  “It isn’t permanent,” Halwen said as he approached. The girls turned to face him as he held up a small vial. “This is a Formbind Elixir. It’s a stabilizer potion, so your bodies won’t revert. There’s enough to last the duration of your mission. The rules for taking it are written here—” he handed them a small leather book. “—along with your assigned disguises. Read it tonight and memorize everything.”

  “Yes, Herr Halwen,” both girls replied.

  Later, back in their chamber, the two sat with the book spread between them. The echoes of the procedure still clung to the air, making the silence heavy. For a while they read without speaking, but the weight of what lay ahead pressed down until Vierna finally broke it.

  “Lina…” Vierna’s voice was heavy, weighed down with thought. “This mission… whatever happens, it’s you and me, right?”

  Lina looked at her back. Her body trembled like a leaf in winter, clinging desperately to the last branch of sanity. “Why are you saying that?”

  “I don’t know, Lin. I just… I don’t think we can come back from this without being changed. Permanently.”

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  “…”

  “Back then, it was different. It was only a boy who deserted. But now?”

  “Vierna…”

  Vierna turned. Her eyes were hollow, stripped of emotion, as if she had finally grasped the full weight of what their mission demanded. “Please… don’t look at me differently after this, Lin.”

  “I won’t,” Lina whispered. “Even if your hands are stained, even if you lie to others, I won’t change how I see you. It’s us. It will always be us.” She met Vierna’s gaze, steady despite her trembling. “But why are you saying this?”

  Vierna lowered the book into her lap. “Because what I’m reading says to lie, to erase yourself, and to do whatever it takes to win their trust. I don’t know what ‘whatever it takes’ will mean when the time comes. But if I have to do it, please, don’t change the way you see me.”

  “It’s okay, Vierna. No matter what happens, you will always be my Vierna,” Lina said softly. She reached out and took her hand. “And I’ll always be by your side. Even if you have to use me… I’m fine with that.”

  “Lina, I would never use you for my advantage… Even if I have to betray everything, I won’t betray you.” As she said it, her eyes now full of spark, she meant it from the bottom of her heart.

  Lina smiled at her and continued with her reading which apparently haven’t moved from the first paragraph since the last hour.

  Night bled into dawn as the girls pored over the small leather book, reading every detail until exhaustion claimed them. Disguises, false backgrounds, the precise dosage of Formbind Elixir they were to take each day—it was all recorded in neat, meticulous script. Halwen had given each of them two bottles, warning them to always keep one secured in their storage rune, so they would never miss a dose, no matter the circumstances.

  In the first light of the morning they departed with the supply caravan bound for Haustwitch Barony, where they would assume their disguises as tax staff.

  As they left Einhartturm, Vierna gazed over the surrounding fields. They looked the same as when she had first arrived: scarred soil carved by beast marks, strewn with rusted helmets, dented armor, and broken banners. The bodies had long since been cleared, the gore ritually purified, yet the land still remembered every battle fought to preserve the wall.

  The wind carried a faint metallic tang, as if forced to bear the lingering scent of consequence for those who had tried to bring down those white ramparts. Above, the sun shone, casting its light over the paved road that wound toward the distant hills.

  Vierna tightened her grip on Lina’s hand. Together they walked forward, ready to shed their old selves and take on new faces.

  Some time passed after they left Einhartturm. The land unfolded gradually, changing from jagged stone and blackened soil into fields that breathed again. The grass was green—bright, defiant, swaying with the wind as if mocking the ruins they had left behind. Here and there, wildflowers grew along the road, small splashes of violet and yellow among the endless green. A few farmers worked the distant fields, their silhouettes steady beneath the pale blue sky.

  A cool, clear breeze drifted under the warm sun, carrying the faint scent of tilled earth and ripening grain. The quiet of it all struck Vierna as strange—unnatural, almost. It felt as though they had stepped into an entirely different world. After the screams and smoke of Einhartturm, this peace felt hollow, like a silence that hadn’t yet decided whether it was mercy or denial.

  The wagon creaked along the dirt path, its wheels crunching over pebbles and dry roots. Lina lay sprawled across a pile of hay, snoring softly, her face half-buried in her cloak. Every so often, the cart hit a bump, and Lina muttered something incoherent before settling again. Vierna found herself smiling faintly—relieved, maybe even envious. To be able to sleep so soundly after everything… that was a strength of its own.

  They passed through stretches of forest thinned by spring, where the branches whispered above and birds darted between shafts of light. A pair of riders crossed their path once, saluting with the Reich’s insignia before galloping eastward. Beyond that, only the hum of insects and the rhythmic clop of hooves filled the hours.

  By midafternoon, with the sun tilting westward, the outline of Haustwitch Town came into view. From a distance, its castle resembled Einhartturm, but the land around it told a different story. No scars of battle marred its fields—only unbroken grass rolling beneath the breeze. As they drew closer, Vierna noticed the walls bore scarcely a mark. She guessed the town rarely saw conflict. At seven hours’ travel from Einhartturm, anything the Imperium hurled at the Reich broke against that fortress first, leaving Haustwitch sheltered in its shadow.

  If she remembered correctly, Schattwald Forest lay between this barony and the Imperium. The untouched walls of Haustwitch meant even the Imperium had failed to pass through it. Which left her wondering: if the forest was that dangerous, how could a group live within it? Worse—how was she supposed to get there?

  Anxiety began to creep into her chest, cold and heavy. She forced herself to breathe, clinging to the thought that the scenario arranged by the Arkmarschall would guide her through. All she had to do now was give everything she had.

  “Thank you, Herr,” she said as the supply caravan finally stopped.

  “You’re welcome. You said you’re bound for the Tax Office? It’s just there—past the first street, then turn left. You can’t miss it, tallest building around.”

  “Thanks. We’ll get going.”

  “Safe travels.” The old caravan master raised a hand in farewell, letting the girls depart.

  Lina and Vierna walked into the heart of Haustwitch. The town was lively on the surface—merchants calling from their stalls, children weaving between carts, guards on patrol—but the vibrancy felt thin. Beneath it lay a quiet weariness etched into every face they passed. The people moved with the rhythm of habit rather than joy, their eyes dulled by routine.

  Though the walls stood unscarred and the streets safe from war, neglect whispered in the corners. Shutters hung crooked, paint flaked from timber frames, cobblestones sat uneven where no mason had come to mend them. Houses were tended, yet never bright; gardens kept, yet never lush. The townsfolk carried on with determined precision—sweeping steps, hauling wares, opening shops—clinging to order as if it alone kept them upright.

  Vierna’s hand brushed against Lina’s as they walked. “You nervous?” she asked, voice pitched low, as though the streets themselves were listening.

  “Yes. Very much. I’ve never done anything like this.” Lina’s fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve before she forced them still.

  “But didn’t you steal a whole bottle of wine and go on that drunk spree back in the village?”

  “That’s different.” Lina puffed her cheeks, her pout almost childlike. “We don’t know anyone here. And just look at their faces.” She leaned closer, voice dropping to a whisper. “It’s like they’re one step from collapsing.” Her hair, bright gold now, caught in the breeze as she turned to glance at the passersby. “What about you? You’re not nervous?”

  “I am,” Vierna admitted. Her grip tightened slightly, a warmth pressed between them. “But as long as I’m with you, it’s fine.”

  A small smile tugged at Lina’s lips. “Aww, cute.” She bumped her shoulder lightly against Vierna’s. “Hey, if you can get Moony to help us, that’d be perfect. We’re basically spies now, right? If she can watch the area and tell you what she sees, we’d have the advantage. No one else can see her, right?”

  “Right. I’ll try to talk to her again later. Hopefully she doesn’t kick me out of my own brain.”

  “Haha… she’s really like you, you know?”

  Vierna blinked. “How come? I’m not needy like her.”

  “Yeah, right. Who’s the one hugging me like a pillow every night?” Lina shot her a sly look.

  “That’s different.” Vierna’s cheeks warmed despite herself. “The air in our chamber was too cold. Body heat is much more effective than blankets, do you know that—”

  “Whatever, nerd. Look—we’re here.”

  They finally arrived at their destination, hands still brushing together as if neither quite wanted to let go.