The sky was gruel gray once more. It lacked all the intricacies to motivate a painter's eye. No color or tone was present on all three grounds. Perhaps the only thing that could entice an artist to swish their brush across a blank canvas would be the challenge of the task. Not even the most skilled painters could capture the desolate canopy. Even if they swapped out their brush for a horse bristle or their paint with a variety of marsh mud harvested fresh from the bog.
Shakespeare had tried her best to lighten up Vera's world. But the subject matter of her plays was too stale for Vera's taste. She didn't need to watch a play about sinful ambition, nor did she need to watch a play about a child's filial obligation. Tragedy in the stories couldn't compare to what she already witnessed. Her beloved sister, the person who saved her back near Greece, nearly killed her. What's worse was that she stole away the brother Vera loved so dearly.
There was a brief moment in time when Vera wondered why Kallen acted so viciously. Kallen was supposed to be a kind soul, the hero of the people. Otto was the kindest of them all. Why would she hurt him? As the days past Vera no longer cared for Kallen's reasons. Whatever the conflict, couldn't they have just talked it out? She didn't need to hurt him to get what she wanted. Otto would always try to give Kallen what she wanted.
Vera walked by beaming citizens and scuffled orphans. The city of Kolosten was a confused symphony of joy and terror. The church was still feared as the sale of indulgences hadn't ceased. Cain Kaslana on the other hand rose up as a defender of the weak, establishing numerous charities for the hard times. Despite Kallen's betrayal, the reputation of the Kaslana house didn't falter. Instead, their reputation was better than ever before thanks to his efforts.
Vera sighed as the sun began to peek through the clouds. Her sack of herbs which she effortlessly carried tousled buoyantly over her shoulder. It was too bright today, brighter than the others before it. She made her way to the grand gates of the Apocalypse family mansion. Gates that glowed expectantly. Its dull steel reflected the brilliance of the sun that promised her better.
A group of battered figures stood at its entrance. One wore a ranger's cloak and sat atop a majestic gray steed. The other soddened figure, standing a half head taller than the horse, rapted his knuckles against the leafy acanthus design of the gate's steel bars. The jagged leaves of the ornamental spinous cut the scarred skin of the soulless gentleman. The plant whose symbolism was rooted in the medicinal arts could do nothing but open up old wounds.
"I've sent a courier ahead, don't you dare lose a finger before you finish the task."
Glory's chilled voice was lighter than anyone would expect. The man beside her, propped up by legs made of splintered sticks, atop a decorated stone pavement, had committed the worst sins known to man. He had a most handsome appearance, the sharp chiseled jaw line that made ladies swoon, the apt lean muscular figure that awakened the envy of every man, and the face of an angel, so divine that even attempting to sculpt it would be a sin.
That angelic body stopped its skeptical rapture against the gates that would soon confine him. He didn't bring his gaze to meet the elfish figure of the duchess. He couldn't face anyone the way he was. His eyes were lifeless and sorrowful, his movements mundane and single noted. He was a puppet with only one string lifting him up, a string that he hung from by his neck, a noose so to speak.
"Sorry."
His simple response devoid of ego and self-respect ignited the sparks of Vera's world. He sounded beyond defeated, like a trumpet with a cup mute attached to its horn. But the accent of his gentle rich voice was all Vera recognized. The promise that the reflecting sun had made to her on this day was fulfilled as the colors of the world started to manifest for her once more.
She first saw the lush green accents of spring in the well-kept hedges around the fountain square that preluded the mansion's gates. Then the nuggets of gold on the young spring tulips started to bud within the bushes. The aroma of grassy sunshine came next, then the brilliant sky blue, the world was returning to the way it was before.
Vera's violet eyes trembled as they overloaded with the electrifying sensory reboot her dear brother brought. They didn't focus on his beauty or his down-trodden demeanor. His lush forest green eyes were all Vera instinctively cared for because no one else in the world had such kind eyes.
Her jade silver pigtails, excitedly wagged side to side while her body was rooted in place. Warm tears caressed her cheeks telling her the moment was real. By the time the first tear hit the sunbaked ground Vera had already lunged at Otto, her sack of herbs tossed to the side.
"Brother!" Vera cried out with joy and relief as she tackled Otto with a hug.
Her embrace was tight, her burst surprising. Otto stumbled back a few steps in an attempt to stabilize his aching body. Luckily for him, Vera was a very light girl.
"Vera?!"
Otto's eyes widened as he remembered the girl Kallen had brought back, the girl he took in like a little sister. Her presence rattled his ribcage that was devoid of a heart. All this moment brought was pain and promises but he wouldn't let melancholy control his actions. Not a word was said as he gingerly failed to wrap his fragile care around Vera's back. A fake smile failed to lift his cheeks as he let Vera cry her grief and relief into his dirtied cotton shirt. Her brother was back, safe and sound. That's all that mattered to Vera. Things could go back to the way they were.
"You've had your reunion. I'd like to discuss mine." Glory said coldly. She hopped off her horse with a clack as the servants began to open the front gates that were strangely devoid of bishop guards. Her boots left little cracks in the ruby orange marble stone pavement that led to the pillared entrance of the brilliant mansion. It had a magnificent shell, decorated with gold accents of old Athen and roman design. Pristine white paint and another exorbitant fountain circled by a sparsely green-filled expansive garden courtyard. A few paths lead to an even more well-kept hedge maze of a backyard, complete with saint statues and benches.
It looked like paradise from afar but the three who had just arrived knew what it truly was. A monument to the infinite greed of Schicksal and a monument to unabated sin that made it all but pleasant to stay in.
Otto nodded and gently pulled Vera off him after some time. Vera resisted at first but relented eventually. Her brother was going nowhere. She didn't have to hug him like he was going to disappear at any moment. Maybe she could go prepare some food for his return. There was plenty of time to catch up with him. To receive his brotherly affection and head patting praise.
"Thank you," Vera said sincerely.
She bowed deeply to Glory before skittering away to the kitchen with a new spring in her step. Glory received her respect and gratitude with a conflicted expression. A mixture of disgust scrunched her nose as reality affirmed what she had learned throughout the entire return trip back.
"You couldn't even hug her back?"
"My hands, they've sullied everything," Otto replied with a deadpan expression. Somehow his emerald eyes had turned to the sickly color of lemongrass. There was no light in them only torment.
"Eleanor cared for you too." A fierce tone crept into her voice, gravity fell to her fury as the pavement began to crack once more.
"I know," Otto whispered softly before turning away and beckoning her to follow. "Let's not talk here."
Otto led her through his alien but familiar house, he took care to avoid his scrap yard of a room and the library he and Kallen had spent so much time in. It took some time but eventually, the pair treaded past the walls of white, over the velvet-red carpets, and arrived in a guest room. A suite with its own bathroom, lavish sheets, a few sofas, and a few seating areas. Otto and Glory sat on opposite plush cushions separated by a marble white tea table.
During their return journey Glory had avoided discussion in front of the other two Valkyries that had long since returned to their post. They would report the matter to Otto's father, the Overseer. There was no chance that Otto would leak even an inkling of information to his father. Glory knew he wouldn't betray her, his love for Kallen was raw and genuine. Much like how she would never forgive Otto for what he did to her precious daughter, Eleanor. Otto would never work for the neglectful parent who played a part in the death of his beloved.
"The servants give you a wide birth." Glory noted.
"They listen but don't approach, only Richards speaks to me."
"For good reason I suppose."
Otto paused. Glory's tone and meaning were all too clear. This was an obvious jab at his title and at his unsavory experiments. He may have lost all his ego but every fiber of his being shook with wretched disgust at who he was. Who he was born to be. Who the crimson chains of fate desired him to be.
"Yes, for righteous reasons."
Glory's expression shifted slightly before solidifying once more. Otto used her daughter for his experiments. Led poor Ellie on without a care for her well-being. Eleanor was so loyal to his ideals and cause and now she was just a Honkai corpse in a tube.
Where was his care for Eleanor? If he had given Eleanor even half the care he had given Vera, Eleanor would have been alive and happy. So what if he caused the death of his beloved, that was his fault as well.
Glory played with fragile rubberbanding emotions in the chambers of her heart. She clenched and unclenched her fist in an effort to control her own rage and demeanor. Even after the other two left the team Otto had been uncooperative. After losing all hope he became near mute. Today was one of his more talkative days and Glory had to use this looser day to speak to him.
"You have one month. Else I'll wage war."
Otto nodded meekly, he couldn't muster the will to make a retort. Eleanor's death was one of his greatest sins. The very least he could do was to return her body home. He had no right or intention to refuse this decency and responsibility.
"I will stay here for a month. This room will be mine. Take care of the necessary preparations."
"Do as you wish. I'm," Otto paused for a moment before continuing his sentence. It would hurt Glory's soul but he should say it. He hadn't said it before. "I'm sorry for all the pain I've caused."
"Are you asking for forgiveness?" Glory asked. Fury mounted in her cheeks, and her lips tightened, pressing against each other until they turned pale white.
"I don't deserve forgiveness," Otto replied. He left the room leaving a Glory to wallow in her hate. Sorry wasn't going to bring Eleanor back. His words didn't matter in the slightest. But in her heart Glory knew that those words would mean the world to Eleanor.
Otto made his way to a separate guest bathing chamber. His own was given a wide birth, Kallen's whispers would surely torment his ears. He remembered the various conversations they had through its stacked double doors.
"Why is the water running so fast?"
"Hydraulic screws, a bit of old technology I improved on."
"Hydra-what? You know what forget it. I know you're the smartest person alive. Hehe."
Nails pinned Otto's feet every time they touched the familiar ground until he finally his body into the water that was already prepared ahead of time thanks to Head Bulter Richard. He was ever so attentive and was always so dutiful to serve. After such a long journey now was the time for Otto to unwind, relax, and rest. His aching body demanded it but Otto's memories wouldn't let him. He was an empty husk but he felt the bits of sparking madness fuelling an unknown drive.
Otto washed loosely, his scarred scorched skin that swelled belligerently in the warm waters. A simple rhythmic motion passed between his cuff-eaten wrists. No matter how hard he tried his body and soul would forever be stained. In order to avoid the reality of the situation, even for a bit, there was only one thing he could do.
"Richards are you there?"
"Yes Sir Otto. What is it that you require?"
"Gloves. Can you fetch me a pair? A lab coat as well?"
"Right away Sir Otto."
As Richard's footsteps echoed a way Otto let himself sink below the surface of the water. He held his breath as fresh tears melded with cleansing water. His long brittle straw hair, treaded just above the surface. There were too many memories in this house. It was a constant reminder of all he had lost. Why did he return?
Bubbles started to fade along with Otto's consciousness. He could hide it all under the mirror of the bath. His collapsing airways. His blueberry lips. His pain. He could end it all right here. Stop his suffering.
"You have to take care of yourself. You have to live well."
Kallen's words pulled him back from the brink. Otto's head burst through the surface splashing water all across the bathroom's tiles. Kallen saved him, even though she died, even though he killed her.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."