'You're babbling nonsense,' Daemonis scoffed. 'Get a grip.'

  "Kill... poison... blood..." Acacia mumbled, writhing on the floor. Her eyes fluttered open, then glazed over. "I... Lucian... Mother... Illusion." A wave of nausea hit her. She clenched her eyes shut, struggling to regain her sanity. "I want to kill Lucian... yes. Elric too... the illusion almost had me."

  'Your illusions are getting the best of you but I do love how your mind plays tricks on you.' Daemonis commented in her head.

  'You are horrible.' Acacia thought.

  Acacia dragged herself to the toilet, retching until her stomach was empty. Her body trembled, a brief, violent spasm before she collapsed onto the cold tile.

  "I can't sustain this," she gasped, her voice raw. "I'll lose my mind before I achieve anything."

  'Giving up already?' Daemonis's voice dripped with mocking amusement.

  "...No," she rasped. "But I need to be swift. I overestimated my ability to maintain the illusion. I need to go back."

  'Lucian is within reach.' Daemonis said.

  "I know," she hissed, her eyes narrowing. "I could kill him now, but instant death is too merciful. And I can't just leave. Even with regeneration, I can't handle a horde of heroes...I must perfect myself, then shatter his pride, slowly, meticulously, until nothing remains." Acacia stood, her gaze unwavering, her voice a low, venomous promise. "But I will leave a scar before I leave."

  Acacia straightened, her gaze fixed on the mirror. With a slow, steady inhale, her dark brown hair flowed into a radiant blonde, and her fierce red eyes deepened to a captivating honey-brown. The wings dissolved into nothingness.

  Acacia emerged from the bathroom, a faint dizziness lingering, and observed Elric in the kitchen the scent of soup filling her nostrils. He was washing the dishes in the sink. 'I need to shatter him.' A flicker of regret crossed her mind. 'It's a pity I must expedite this. I would have loved to witness his gradual destruction.'

  Elric paused mid-task, wiping his hands with a kitchen towel, and answered the call on his wrist-mounted communicator. A stern voice filled the kitchen.

  "Evening, there is an urgent meeting soon. It's about the raid strategy outside the perimeter."

  "Yes, sir. I'll be there." Elric confirmed that the connection terminated abruptly.

  'Raid planning? Will they attack the beast-men again?' Acacia wondered, her mind racing. She approached him slowly, enveloping him in a close hug from behind. He went rigid, as expected, but she tightened her grip.

  "Erla...?" Elric asked, his voice laced with confusion.

  "Yes?" Acacia replied, her tone soft.

  "Why are you embracing me?"

  "Because I enjoy your company."

  "As... companions?" Elric stammered, a faint blush creeping up his neck.

  "....I mean, like a crush; I don't know why, but every time I look at you. My heart starts to flutter, and I...I think I love you." Acacia took a deep breath as she looked up at him. 'This was how those girls usually confess in those books...'

  "I... I'm flattered, truly," Elric stammered, his face a vibrant crimson. "But I don't think... you should feel that way about me." He felt the warmth of her against him, and it only made him more flustered.

  "You don't like me?" Acacia asked, her voice tinged with sadness and she stepped back.

  "No, I do! I mean, yes, I like you! It's just..." Elric's words trailed off, lost in a sea of confused emotions.

  "Do you love me?" Acacia asked.

  "...a bit," Elric said as he averted his gaze.

  "Does your heart pound when I'm near?" Acacia purred, closing the distance. "Do you dream of holding me until dawn?"

  "These questions are... unusual," Elric stammered, his brow furrowed. "Perhaps we should take things slower."

  "Of course," Acacia said, her smile widening. "Just tell me about Bella."

  "What?" Elric's face drained of colour, and he stumbled back against the counter.

  "Oh, did I say that aloud?" Acacia feigned surprise, then laughed, her voice sharp. "Don't you miss your precious Bella? Abandoned to die for your little mission? You used every one, Elric. And you think I'm any different? You're a convincing liar, but you can't see when you're being played." Acacia's form shifted, her hair darkening and shortening, her presence growing more imposing.

  "Erla... Barachiel?" Elric felt confused and almost stumbled.

  "Aren't I magnificent? A captain, revered by all. My death would plunge the world into mourning. And you? This barren apartment, devoid of life, is a ghost among men. A truly pathetic existence." Acacia advanced, her fingers closing around his throat. She snatched the metal soup spoon, its cold surface gleaming. With a swift, brutal motion, she slammed it against his cheek. His head snapped sideways, the force of the blow ringing through the room. Another strike, harder this time, and he teleported away, clutching his injured face.

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  "Running? How disappointing." Acacia clicked her tongue, tapping the spoon against her palm, her eyes gleaming with predatory amusement.

  "Spatial Displacement!" Elric shouted, his voice tight with desperation. Instantly, kitchen knives materialized within Acacia's body, piercing her heart, lungs, and stomach.

  Acacia froze, a shocked gasp escaping her lips as the blades tore through her. "Elric..." The spoon clattered to the floor, and her form flickered, reverting to Erla as she collapsed, blood spilling from her lips.

  "No... no!" Elric stammered, his eyes wide with horror. He rushed to her side, cradling her dying form.

  "You... promised..." Erla coughed, tears streaming down her face. "Was it... because I loved you?"

  "You...I...are you Erla?" Elric asked with brown eyes glistening with tears.

  "Of course," she whispered and her fangs poked out as she spoke. She retrieved the spoon, and with a vicious strike, cracked it against his skull. He cried out, and she lunged, straddling his hips, her legs a vice. The spoon became a brutal instrument, raining down on his face.

  "Stop! Please, Erla!" he choked, his voice a desperate rasp.

  "Mercy? You dare ask for mercy?" she hissed, her voice dripping with contempt. "Did you savour the illusion of hope? A brief, pathetic delusion?" She hammered the spoon against his face, her rage a physical force. 'This is satisfying....cry more, you bastard. But these knives are a nuisance to my movements.'

  Her assault continued, a brutal symphony of impact, her rage etched in every strike. His face was a ruined canvas of blood and bone, the spoon bent and twisted from the force. 'Why isn't he teleporting?' She wondered, her brow furrowed. Discarding the useless utensil, she channelled mana into her fist and, with a single, devastating strike, silenced him. He crumpled, unconscious, and she rose, her face devoid of emotion.

  She seized his legs, dragging his limp form into the bedroom and depositing him on the floor. Stripping his wristwatch, she retrieved clothing from his closet. She entered the bathroom and shed her clothes. Her hand plunged into the wound in her stomach, a brutal exploration of the embedded knives. One by one, she extracted them, the metallic clatter echoing on the tile floor. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as steam rose from the rapidly knitting flesh, the wound sealing itself with unsettling efficiency. After a swift wash in the bathroom, shedding the blood and donning his attire, she returned. A spray of his perfume filled the air. Vanilla and cinnamon, a cloying sweetness.

  She adjusted the oversized white suit and brooch, her reflection a temporary mimicry. A snap of her fingers summoned the butterfly, its flight weak and faltering. "You've reached your limit. Well done." She stroked its head gently. "Keep watching." With a predatory grin, she extended a finger, her fangs elongating, and bit the tip, offering the blood to the butterfly.

  The butterfly crawled to her finger and drank the blood. "Oh, you like my blood. I wonder how long I can sustain you." She murmured to herself as the butterfly finished drinking and flew back to the ceiling. 'Would my blood sustain it? Or do I need to re-summon them all the time? Time will tell but they are doing well so far.'

  Acacia regarded his unconscious form, her head tilting slightly. Hopefully, he remains dormant for a while. She prodded his side with her foot. "Daemonis, I need his memories of the headquarters, nothing more than that."

  'Demands, always demands. Just touch his forehead.' Daemonis sighed dramatically in her head.

  "I just bathed," Acacia mumbled.

  'Perhaps you should have considered that before rearranging his facial features.' Daemonis scoffed.

  Acacia grimaced, leaning down and placing her hand on his forehead. A searing sting erupted in her mind. 'That's painful!'

  'Oh, the hardship,' Daemonis drawled. 'You're free to withdraw your hand.'

  She withdrew her hand, rising to her full height, her mind awash with the building's schematics. A slight rub of her temple, and she strode to the bathroom and washed her hands before leaving the room. Her form fluidly shifting until she mirrored Elric perfectly, the clothes now tailored to her new shape. She left the apartment and entered the elevator, pressing the descent button.

  Reaching the final floor, she navigated the labyrinthine halls, a second elevator ride depositing her at the meeting room's entrance. She knocked on the door and slowly entered inside, a round table dominated the space, occupied by numerous figures. Her brother sat at the head, his posture commanding. She felt her insides churn and held her hands behind her back to control her twitching finger.

  Beside him, a woman with tightly braided red hair, styled in a severe bun with braided bangs, and amber eyes, stood out. Her modified uniform, a cropped suit jacket over a black top and high-waisted white pants spoke of a unique position. Her parents sat side by side, Barachiel and Cerise at the opposite end, engaged in hushed conversation. She noted the familiar sight of some people at the round table and the lack of vacant seats and some individuals beside her.

  "Thank you for your prompt attendance. I've convened this meeting to discuss the valuable intelligence you each provided regarding your respective missions. Regrettably, one of you neglected to report a crucial detail, though the oversight has been addressed. Now, Ana, please summarize your findings." Lucian's gaze swept across the assembled group, his expression controlled and unwavering. Acacia glanced at the shirt girl beside her who started to speak.

  "During my captivity, I observed the beast-men that took my captive engaging in a disturbing practice. They pulverized white crystals, mixing the powder with their blood. This concoction resulted in a significant, albeit temporary, surge in magical capabilities for individuals without magical abilities in exchange for working with them." Ana paused, her gaze sweeping the room.

  'I never heard that before, but then again, Zephyra wasn't close to those group leaders. Is that why?' Acacia thought to herself as she stared ahead at nothing.

  "That's sufficient. Precisely the point I wish to emphasize. They are fundamentally corrupt, and their existence poses a direct threat. Eradication is the only solution." Lucian's voice was sharp, decisive.

  "Eradication? Isn't that a rather extreme measure after our last visit?" A woman inquired, her tone laced with apprehension.

  "Extreme? They slaughter our soldiers and are essentially walking time bombs! Why should we tolerate a population constantly teetering on the edge of madness? We'd be offering them a form of mercy, sparing them a life of fear and instability." An elderly man retorted, his voice filled with contempt.

  "I second that. They will wear the control devices, or they will suffer the consequences. It's that simple." Her mother's tone was authoritative, brooking no argument. Her father, his long dark brown hair tied back, his blue eyes glazed with a bored detachment, offered no comment.

  "The beasts will dispose of them, surely? Why waste valuable resources?" The woman pressed, her voice laced with incredulity.

  "Their resilience and potential for reprisal are a liability we cannot afford. Our primary objective is to expel the monsters. The beast-men are an obstacle. Complete elimination would be efficient, but the consequences would be severe. A selective extraction of those willing to cooperate seems the most viable option. They surely wouldn't prefer to dwell with the monsters?" Lucian articulated, his tone measured.

  "A gradual poisoning, perhaps? A subtle dispersal, until their demise?" The red-haired woman proposed, her voice devoid of emotion.

  'Poison...' Acacia considered as she listened.

  "The supposed doppelganger...the immortal mimic? Is she a result of this concoction?" Her father interjected, his gaze momentarily resting on Acacia, causing Cerise to tense noticeably.