“…all about perspective. Got it?” Lily puffed up her cheeks.

“I’m sure I crossed a line or two somewhere, though,” Claud replied. “Perspective or not, annihilating sentient beings that probably had their own family when they hadn’t actually arrived at the city is probably bordering on psychopathic pre-emptive mass murder.”

He hadn’t cared much about it back then, since Claud had assumed that the army of shadows were like the darkened monsters, animals whose sole purpose was to kill people. However, if he had allowed the army crossing the border to approach, would they have negotiated with the defenders of Lostfon back then? Did his intervention result in a pointless battle and hostilities that could have been avoided?

“Yeah. We didn’t really check the intentions of the army crossing over, did we?” Lily muttered.

Claud nodded. He could feel the weight of having annihilated a whole bunch of people who might not have hostile intentions — while he could at least justify the thorough annihilation of the Moon Emissary and its escorts, there was no such argument for the armies of the great Dark back then.

“It’s…dangerous,” Claud whispered. “At the end of every tale, the villain is always defeated, brought down by someone who had been wronged. When I annihilated the army back then, I might have very well sowed the seeds of my own destruction. Sorrowful offspring who desire vengeance. Grieving spouses that take up arms. I…it’s karma, in a sense.”

He hugged his knees. “Maybe I should never have interfered in events like these. Avoid being the cause of an effect. If I do that enough, far fewer things will affect you and me, right?”

“But that’s not living, is it?” Lily asked.

“I’m sure we’ll find a workaround,” Claud replied. “From now on, we’ll only act after we know the situation on both sides. I’ll avoid making assumptions about those we automatically peg as an enemy.”

“Claud…”

“There’s no way I can make up for what I did. Retribution may very well be on its way too, in one form or another.” Claud closed his eyes. “But at the very least, I will never repeat this mistake again.”

He paused. “At the core of it all, I was drunk on my own power. Having defeated a Moon Emissary, having torn apart the barricades between the sovereignties, I never stopped to think about what I was doing. I perceived a city in need and intervened without gathering information. I should have done that thoroughly, at least.”

Lily hung her head. “I’m at fault too. I didn’t stop you, nor did I think too hard about what you were about to do. Like you said, we simply assumed that the great Dark was going to slaughter the people of Lostfon, and I egged you on accordingly.”

Claud looked up at the ceiling. He’d become the very person he hated the most, and it hurt to recognise that fact. How would he make up to the family of those he had struck at? Could he even do such a thing?

“Is there anything I could do?” Claud muttered. “Anything at all?”

“You’ve got it wrong,” Lily replied. “It’s ‘we’. We did it. I am as guilty as you, if not more. But…I don’t want you to die. I won’t let you turn yourself over to the Dark. There must be ways we can try to make amends, even if we cannot bring the dead back.”

“But we’re talking about what essentially is a different race from a different world. What can we do?” Claud asked. “What can we even accomplish? I don’t want to take sides in this war anymore. There are innocents on both sides. People with their own families and aspirations. And you saw the power I can wield. A single mistake, and a whole bunch of people die.”

The two looked at each other for a moment, and then Lily nodded. “Maybe we can’t help for now, but as the war progresses, there might be things we can do. Deserters on both sides, for instance. Right now, the soldiers of both the Dark and the Moons might seem to be loyal to a fault, but the nature of war always creates deserters. It’s a natural law.”

“Natural law…” Claud took in those words, and then rubbed his nose.

“Or we could venture into the place those shadows came from. Track down the families of those we killed and try to help them somehow,” Lily suggested. “But that’s dangerous, so—”

“We could do that.” Claud took a deep breath. “But you’re right. It’s dangerous to enter like this. Still, is there a possibility that the Dark would let humans enter that place? The world where those shadows came from?”

Unfortunately, that was a question that neither of them could answer. For the time being, however, Claud knew that there was no way for him to make up for what essentially was an unprovoked attack. And even if he did, there was no denying that the dead could never come back.

“We’ll need to work harder from now on.” Claud got up.

He didn’t add on the second sentence in his mind, though. Given that he had killed an entire army without even affirming if they were enemies, it was a mathematical certainty that someone would probably seek him out for revenge. Their only saving grace lay in how he had taken all due precautions during and after the attack, but still…

“I think we’ll be safe for now, though.” Lily let out a sigh. “You have this skill that prevents divination and everything, right?”

“Yeah, Om—”

An abrupt chill ran down Claud’s spine, and in that instant, the premonition that Lily would perish if he completed the word under this particular context filled his body with dread. In fact, Claud had a feeling that he would be wiped out in both body and soul if he dared to utter that word.

A small cry leaked out of his lips, and cold sweat ran down his face as strength fled his body. This abnormality didn’t go unnoticed by Lily, who caught his body a moment later.

“Claud?”

Fighting to control his trembling body, Claud wiped his sweat-ridden forehead gingerly, before sitting back up slowly. “I-I’m…fine. I…just had an awful premonition of our deaths. That skill…I can’t say its name out loud, and neither should you.”

Lily’s eyes flickered, before she nodded rapidly.

“It’s the same word as the class on my status in Celestia,” Claud replied slowly, fearful that he would trigger something. “But never, ever say it out loud. You will be erased from existence…that’s what my instincts tell me.”

“But you could say it previously, right?” Lily asked.

“Only in the Celestia Ruins.” Claud took a deep breath and tried to steady himself. The sudden revelation that those shadows were actually living beings had been bad enough, considering what he’d done, but this…

“Does it mean that this…world is rejecting that?” Lily asked.

“Very possible.” Claud looked down. “I’m not sure what’s going on. I’ve never felt such danger before.”

His head started to throb. Why did his skill, Omen, elicit such an incredible sensation of death? And in turn, what had generated that particular sensation? After all, if speaking out loud would kill him and Lily, it could only mean that the world or its overseers were looking for the bearer of that particular skill. Why, then, would he receive sensory feedback so similar to when he engaged with secrets above his Authority?

“Ugh. My head hurts. Can you…lend me your lap for a while?” Claud asked. “I’m not sure how it’s possible, but today sure feels like one of the worst days of my life.”

Lily looked at him and patted her lap. “I’ll watch over you.”

Claud nodded and shifted his head to rest on her thighs, and silence ruled for the next few minutes. Her hands rubbed his temples slowly, granting his pounding head a measure of comfort, but for some reason, Lily had a complicated expression on her face.

“What’s wrong?” Claud asked, after mustering up enough willpower to speak.

“I’m wondering which part I should comfort you about first,” Lily replied. “I’m accustomed to only having one issue to deal with at a time, but my desire to tell you that we can’t do anything about the Dark is clashing with my desire to comfort you and tell you that the world isn’t rejecting you.”

“We can’t do anything about the latter, but at least we can never speak about it again,” Claud replied, his voice tired.

Lily paused for a moment, and then nodded slowly. “Okay.”

“Just forget it ever happened, or I had such a skill,” Claud added. “It’ll only harm us both and everything. We should focus on what we can improve. And for us…”

“Yeah.” Lily patted his head. “We’ll be even more cautious from now on.”

“We cannot make up for our mistakes, ever,” Claud muttered. “But we definitely can prevent them from happening again, if we put in the effort.”

“Mhm.”