Sylvain sat in the train compartment, staring out the window as the landscape blurred past him. He had taken on the alias Azur, a local Ilisarian name, to avoid suspicion. Everything was calculated, every move methodical. Yet, as he sat in what was meant to be a moment of quiet before the storm, the door to his compartment slid open.
"Hey there, spy." A playful voice broke the silence.
Sylvain turned to see Raven standing in the doorway, her signature grin in place, her fingers forming a gun as she aimed it at him. He blinked, his expression shifting to one of sheer disbelief.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, clearly exasperated.
She shrugged nonchalantly. "Prometheus couldn't leave you unsupervised. I had to come and babysit your butt."
Sylvain sighed, rubbing his temples. "There goes my small dose of peace."
"C'mon, it's not like I'm that annoying," she teased, stepping in and plopping onto the seat across from him. "Why don't we play a game to pass the time?"
"Is that really necessary?" he asked, his voice flat with irritation.
"Of course! I'll name a vision I saw from those timeloop glimpses, and you name the event. Get it right, and I'll give you a kiss."
"I'm good."
Raven pouted. "C'mon, Cat boy, why are you so lame?"
"Fine."
She smirked. "Blood all over the streets of Steelgate. A civilian man goes berserk. What event am I?"
Sylvain leaned back, arms crossed. "The human instant muscle repair test subject. They tried cutting off amino acids from his brain and redirecting them to his muscles for enhanced physical growth. Instead, he lost control and slaughtered twenty civilians with his bare hands."
"Correct! That happened four years ago... and in every loop before this one." Raven's grin widened. "Apparently, the subject was my father. I never got to see him as a child— the houses took him away for their twisted experiments."
Sylvain's lips parted slightly, his expression softening. "Raven... I'm so—"
She cut him off by pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "Shut up, handsome. I'm glad you got it right. Seems like your timeloop memory is kicking in."
Sylvain was stunned. How could someone hide so much grief under a jester's persona? Before he realized it, a single tear slid down his cheek.
"So the next time you feel despair, remember—we all did. But we—"
Raven lectures him while staring at the window only to turn around and be interrupted at the sight. For a moment, she saw herself reflected in him—her own pain, her own grief, except expressed through someone else's sorrow. Without thinking, Sylvain pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her.
She stiffened at first but then melted into the embrace. This was different. Prometheus gave her hope and a reason to smile, but Sylvain... he felt her grief instead.
"So unfair..." she muttered. "Even while crying, you still look annoyingly beautiful... Thank you, Sylvain.
For the first time in a long while, she felt at ease. Sylvain wasn't just some revenge-driven noble. He was someone who could empathize. And that was enough for her to believe he could be a force for good.
As the train pulled into a small village, Sylvain spoke. "We'll stop here and walk to Coverford. Public transportation is too risky."
"Yes, Captain Flame!" Raven saluted mockingly.
"And don't call me that."
They found an inn to stay the night. Once inside their room, Sylvain laid out the plan. "You'll stay outside the prince's camp, out of Coverford's security range while I work inside."
"Shouldn't I be close to you?" she asked.
"Two people together would be too suspicious. Did you bring your rifle?"
Raven smirked, opening a small case. She quickly assembled a long sniper rifle, adding a scope at the end. "Lucien's masterpiece. Runs on energy cells, highly accurate, silent, and has a 3,000-meter range."
Sylvain nodded approvingly. "Good. Watch from afar and wait for my signals. Any changes, report them immediately."
He handed her a small container of pills. "These are military-grade. They'll let us communicate through neural electromagnetic fields within a 4,000-meter range. Take one now."
She popped one in her mouth without hesitation.
Finally, Sylvain revealed a bottle of hair dye.
"A new look, Captain?" Raven teased.
"No. To convince them I'm Ilisarian, I need to look the part. They're mostly blondes due to their lack of mixed blood."
As he started applying the dye, Raven watched him with a thoughtful look. "Seems like you thought of everything, huh?"
"Of course. House order or not, Pilturia and its people are at stake. I have to defend them."
As Sylvain applied the hair dye, Raven rested her chin on her hands, watching him with exaggerated interest.
"You know, blond actually suits you. You almost look like a noble Ilisarian prince."
Sylvain shot her a deadpan look. "Don't even start."
She grinned. "Oh, my apologies, Your Highness Azur. Would you like some tea with that identity crisis?"
Satisfied with his new appearance, he stretched. "If you don't mind, I'm heading to sleep."
"Goodnight... Captain Flame," she whispered.
The next morning, they left the village and began their 14-mile journey to Coverford, taking five hours to arrive. At the outskirts, Sylvain turned to Raven.
"I'm counting on you. But if anything happens that risks your life, leave immediately. Don't think about me."
Raven grinned. "Be safe, Captain Flame!" she called out, waving as he disappeared into the city.
Now, Sylvain walked into dangerous territory under his new identity. Azur, the Ilisarian servant, was about to meet Kseradyn the Butcher.