Shiny black shoes trimmed with ribbons and lace swing daintily under the white light of the flames. A soft melody is hummed as fluffy white hair bobs to its beat, long lashes fanning across pale cheeks that lack any warmth of color. The room is silent except for the humming and the sound of a page being turned every so often. Snowy lashes flutter open and spiraling pools of wine peer from under them at the lithe form dressed in reds and blacks.

Sephiroth sits quietly next to Karma as he reads an untitled book. The black leather bound pages have held his attention since Lady Carissimi left some hours ago and allowed them to stay out of the caskets for as long as they liked. Sephiroth had played with her when the mistress first left, allowing her to climb across his tall form like a trapeze and playing with his hair. He always indulged in her childish whims, smiling as she swung on an outstretched arm or wrapped herself in the floating joints of his tail. The ribbons that were tied around his horns were met with gentle smiles even as his hair got tangled in her messy attempts at a French braid. Even his shiny black boots with the impossibly high heels have flowers tucked between the laces.

Her own hair was now in a braided crown with black ribbons interwoven, the ends sticking out like a pair of rabbit ears on either side of her head. Long, deft fingers had carded through the fluffy locks in a calming manner that made the tiny guardian want to sit back and relax. So now she sat with the appearance of an angel in comfortable silence next to a demon. It would probably make for a good painting if someone were to see them: her sitting quietly in pristine white, resting and carefree as the ilk of the Devil sat nearby with a messy ponytail that did nothing to detract from his dark beauty while reading intently from a black book.

Oh how wrong would they be.

The silence and calm ticks on, a peaceful taint to the air as they simply sat there. The crisp sound of a page turned and the silence resumed. It was so quiet.

And peaceful.

And cozy.

And dull.

Sharp senses make everything too focused, too clear. Her eyes catch every detail as they wander idly. The gentle fall of loose strands of pink as they fell from a red ribbon. The shifting neon shades of magic around the solid slit of black in their gaze. The careful press of the pad of a finger against the sharp corner of a page to turn it. The perfectly kept tempo of the pulse moving across the smooth expanse of a throat.

Shhhhhhhk…

The page turns again.

Shhhhhhhk…

It's a sound that has a slight but still perfect waver in its motion.

Shhhhhhhk…

A curious glance shows it impossible to read from this angle.

Shhhhhhhk…

Black shoes sink into white carpet.

Shhhhhhhk…

The page has turned just as she has around the couch.

Shhhhhhhk…

Crimson eyes latch onto a stray curl at the nape of the neck as the distance closes with soundless footfalls.

Shhhhthump.

The book snaps shut and disappears into the void of Inventory.

Those neon eyes turn and watch with a secretive smile upon wordless lips.

The message is clear: The book is private.


Shiny red mary janes stand atop dark leather stiletto boots.

Karma smiles at her partner as she is guided through the waltz, their height difference making it clumsy though neither of them mind. Lady Dez cooed as she watched them dance, enjoying their interactions. The firm surface of the titanium toed boots supported her easily as she's spun around in dainty circles. The prickle went down her spine as the shadow demons triggered another paired action through Sephiroth. Her feet were once again on the ground a Sephirtoh procured a crown of deadly nightshade and placed it upon her head. She returned the gesture with a deep curtsy, the edges of her skirts brushing his toes.

"I didn't know you could add duo interactions." Lady Dez cooed as she once again prompted the incubus. A hand came to rest upon his heart as he dipped at the waist in a polite bow, Karma peeking shyly from behind his leg. "That's so cute." The Supreme Being gushed. Their creator gave a small laugh as she gestured towards the hiding child. "They're a pair so of course they have matched interactions." The angel shifted for a better view before continuing. "But you've only been prompting Sephiroth, why don't you try Karma?"

Her soft tone gave nothing away as the smaller guardian was prompted.

A wide grin that was nothing but sharp split across her cherubic face as she pounced with her claws at ready to disembowel. The attack has no chance to connect as she is immediately yanked back by her collar and bopped on the head in one smooth movement. The demoness dove into the shadows and reappeared behind the angel with a squeak.

The hours soon blurred together as the two Supreme Beings were lost in a flurry of white, dress after dress tried on and modeled. Neither Karma or Sephiroth were spared from the dress up session, multiple outfits and costumes equipped and unequipped in a storm of white.

The hours would pass them by and end with Karma and Sephiroth dressed in matching sets of white roses and silk. The layered skirts of her dress swished gracefully around her knees as Karma twisted from side to side. Sephiroth stands quietly behind their mistress as she bids her friend farewell. The demoness gives a small wave as she exits the room, her departure followed by a small chime that signaled her return to IRL.

The change in the air is palpable.

"Karma…" Lady Carissimi starts with her back still turned to the tiny Guardian. Back ramrod straight, Karma awaits her orders. "Why don't you go take a nap…?"

The suggestion guises a command, the prickle of the real meaning of those words directing her towards her casket. The movements are automatic, no room to argue or refuse. The careful flounce in each step is a part of her delicate image as she obeys. With a curtsy and turn of the heel, the billowing of her skirts, everything is created to project a perfect little doll. Her surroundings cease to surround her, the singular thought of " .Obey"" on loop. Across the room the vanity watches her, her reflection flickering with the absent focus. Her pale visage is replaced with a snowy white deer, it's black eyes staring soulless from the shadows of its antlers, the horns stretching out like the bleached branches of a long dead tree. It was there for a moment but the weight of its gaze stretched out for eternity.

Everything in her life is white.

The bleached wood under the glossy sheen of varnish gives the barely there reflection. She can feel nothing through the barrier of her gloves as her fingers gently pry the lid open. It's like watching from the inside as she slowly climbs in and leans against the back of the casket, her voluminous skirts packed tight yet neatly around her legs in the ample space. The casket slowly closes over her, that ever familiar darkness welcoming her into its familiar embrace.

Her last glimpse of the world outside her space was of Sephiroth summoning the little black book and offering the silent Supreme Being.


It's dark but that means nothing as her eyes open and catch the lace covered toes of white boots.

There is a disturbance in the air, territorial instincts triggered by something outside her field of consciousness. Her rest has been disturbed and by no means is this a friend. Her skin seems to glow under the eerie light of her eyes as pale hands push against a cold, flat surface. The chill doesn't bother her, her own body colder than ice.

Her ears catch the barely there creak of the hinges as she slowly opens her casket, the dim lights of the torches casting some light upon the room. From the corner of her vision she can see the matching black casket slowly swing open on its own. The silk covered expanse of the bed blocks her view of the bottom of the casket but she can still see the fur topped leather of thigh high boots stepping out into the light.

Her gaze climbs higher and stops at her companion's face. They share a moment as their eyes meet, swirling wine and a shifting aurora borealis.

The moment is brief. They have much more important matters to attend to. Such as the creeping figure of a certain brain eater. The soft thumps of the Supreme Beings boots are absent, a stealth item having been employed to avoid detection. The sound may be gone but everything else is still available to their senses. The item is faulty under the numerous security spells woven into the room, connected to the deepest lines of their code.

The room is still dark, the lanterns remaining unlit by their command to offer a faux sense of success as Tabula ventures deeper into the chambers. His heteromorph status offers him some measure of night vision, allowing him to maneuver around anything within three feet of him with some ease. He moves towards Lady Carisimmi's desk, long fingers probing searchingly through the drawers and shelves.

All the while, they creep upon him in their shadows.

It's an itch beneath her skin, the desire to pounce and rend flesh from bone. There would be no consequences if she were to attach the Supreme Being. He is an unwelcome guest, a trespasser. She will be rewarded for defending her mistress's territory. But she holds back. Sephiroth has taken point, his hand held up in a sign to wait. She understands what he means. They are to find out what the intruder wants. What would compel him to come back after he was ever so kindly removed not even a month ago?

They make no noise in their approach. Not even the impossibly high and thin heels of Sephiroth's boots make a sound. They are the hunters here. And oh how she wishes to sink her teeth into their prey.

The stand behind the brain eater, the intruder having finished his searching and closing the drawers. Sephirtoh drew his sword from the voidade, purposely scraping the blade with a pointed nail to draw attention. A mischievous grin paints her lips as she playfully pokes her head out from behind her companion, enjoying the way the Supreme Being whips around and freezes at the point of the blade at his throat.

Sephiroth canted his ever so slightly, a clear indication for the brain eater to start explaining himself. A move that she internally applauded since their words can never reach their creators.

The sword presses forward and prick colorless flesh, drawing a line of blood. There's a near imperceptible hiss as the tiny cut slowly starts to peel, a poisoned status appearing above Tabula's head. Sephiroth is never one to make idle threats, his intent clear in his eyes.

"You have no right to be questioning me."

She finds the voice of the Supreme Being to be much to grating. His tone reeks of self entitlement and derision. Oh how she loathes him. She cares not for how blasphemous her thoughts may seem. She simply can't stand men who think themselves better than others, especially those without merit. She could go on forever on how his attitude leaves a sour taste in her mouth or how eating him becomes less appealing the longer she takes in his appearance.

She decides she's not a fan of octopus.

But now is not the time for that. No, for their self important intruder has demands. And she has no intention to fulfill them.

"Where's the diary?" Tabula grinds out.

His throat is still peeling and is non lethal at the moment. But that is only because his wound is merely a prick. A warning. Should the blade press harder, more poison would be delivered into his blood. It would eat away at his flesh and turn his own blood into cyanide.

There was also the added bonus that all his items would become toxic, poisoning anyone who carried them. A fitting punishment.

Despite the way the brain eater towers over him, Sephiroth still seems to look upon the other. His delicate features set in an impassive stare that most are used to seeing set in a gentle smile.

Oh?

Now surely that must burn. Not for the first time, Karma notices how Sephiroth is a near perfect copy of Lady Carissimi's demonic form. Same color pallete and features. From the pastel pink hair and ombre horns to the earth kissed skin, they were alike. Nary a difference to be found if one were to see them side by side sans the obvious. One could mistake them for twins…

Or mother and son.

She knew of this man's obsession. Had heard the whispers of his supposed love. It takes everything she has not to giggle. How it must pain the Supreme Being to see the face of the one who he so loved looking down upon him. She watched as Sephiroth his chin just a bit higher, a clear indicator of his disgust. Her hands clapped together excitedly as she grinned from behind him.

Oh how deliciously cruel he could be.

Sephiroth had explained to her once how men were weak to their mistress's allure. How they fell at her feet for her attention. How the weak willed could only bask. His neon eyes spoke of their depravity and entitlement. How they will do all and anything to "understand" and be near her, but always fail in their attempts. How they become angered when they cannot have something that was never theirs in the first place. How they hate being told they're wrong.

Karma finds these men to be incredibly stupid.

A thick feeling coated the back of her tongue as she remembered her "father". He had been an incredibly stupid man too. His stupidity must have tainted the taste of his blood for no fond memories can be found when remembering the flavor. Or maybe it was because his meat had already gone cold and tough? She always did prefer her food fresh. Or maybe because she can still feel his gaze upon her skin. Even if none of these things truly happened, she still has these memories. Lady Carissimi had been kind enough to give her a past that made her strong. A rare gift usually reserved for Floor Guardians. But even she cannot escape the disgusting feeling these phantom feelings create. Oh how she loathes the faux memory of "humanity".

She was distracted and almost missed it.

An item appeared in the Supreme Beings hand. An orb of silver and glass. An item of mind control. The orb glowed for a fraction of a second before there was a blur. The orb shattered under the weight and force of a large blade. Sephiroth had been forced to step back, his tail wrapped around Karma's waist to keep her from falling. A wall of white metal blocked her view of the intruder, red fabric moving with a nonexistent breeze..

Lord Touch Me had arrived.

"Get out." The warrior growled. His tone lacked all the warmth and kindness she'd always heard in it. Instead, it dripped with malice and hate. Karma felt her respect for the man grow a little more. Never had the disgustingly good insectoid raised his hand or voice towards another, no matter the issue. To see that he would drop all manners in defense of her mistress sat well with her. His sword was yanked from the remains of the sword and brought threateningly towards the brain eater's throat, mirroring the same position Sephroth had been in mere seconds ago. Although Lord Touch Me was far more threatening than the incubus. Tabula immediately "logged out", returning to the realm of the Supreme Beings in a coward's retreat. How fitting.

Their mistress's brother turns to them and they bow in turn. This being is one they held respect for.

"Are you two okay?" He asked, his tone back to its softer quality. "Tablua almost used a mind control item on you, Sephiroth."

Karma held back a laugh. Oh how she almost wished Lord Tabula hadn't intervened. If only to witness the brain eater's reaction when the mind control didn't work.

They remain bowed though Sephiroth does nod to assure the Supreme Being of their health. They only straighten when prompted to, their fealty no longer needed. Lord Touch Me faces Sephiroth, the tiny albino next to him now ignored. "Sephiroth, please continue to protect my sister's pain." With that, the warrior leaves and Karma is left confused.

Protect Lady Carisimmi's pain? What pain? And why would it be protected?

Her questing gaze is wiped away with a gentle pat to the head and kiss to the brow. Sephiroth offers no answers as he urges her back towards her casket.

Does this have something to do with that little black book?


She sees him reading that book again.

He moves effortlessly as he dances a complicated piece by himself, the gramophone playing a classical masterpiece.

His entire focus is on the book, not a single glance spared to her as she sits on the couch in her pointes.


She peeks out of her casket, the soft notes of a piano beckoning her.

A beautiful grand piano, with a glossy black finish and golden designs, had been recently added to Lady Carisimmi's room. It stood on Sephiroth's half, his casket perfectly parallel to it even across the room. Lady Carissimi is sitting beside the incubus, watching him play. A soft smile is on both of their faces. It hurts a little how genuine Sephiroth's own is. His fingers move deftly across the marble and obsidian keys, flitting between notes as he plays a slow yet dense song. Neon eyes slowly scan the pages before him but there are no notes to be read. He has no use for sheet music when he was made with perfect knowledge of each song he played.

Lady Carisimmi's fingers turned the pages of the little black book for him to read.


There is crying.

Karma finds herself peeking out to see who it is.

Lady Carissimi is crying as she clutches Sephiroth's book to her chest. The incubus is running a soothing hand between her wings as he holds her. Her sobs are heart wrenching, each breath taken released in an agonizing cry. Sephiroth twists his body to better face the Supreme Being and opens his arms to her. The book falls to their laps as Lady Carissimi clutches her creations shirt as though he's her only link to the world.

Karma pretends to have seen nothing of this private moment as she goes back in her casket.


His back is turned towards her.

Lady Carissimi has left and Sephiroth is absolutely absorbed in that book again. There's a seed of bitterness that she buries deep below the surface as she approaches. She makes no sound as she sneaks up on her companion. Not a foot step or swish of fabric can be heard. Not a breath to break the silence. She needs to know what's in that book. The book that always has her friend's attention. The attention that should be all her's.

Why is she ignored? Lady Carisimmi spends so much time with just Sephiroth when it's not all three of them. And then he spends so much of the time in between with that damned book. Each day more time is dedicated to its contents and less with her!

She's right behind him.

There is no way to read the book over Sephiroth's shoulder without being caught. He would eventually sense her. And he was already somewhere in the middle of it. It's impossible to follow a story if one starts in the middle of it. Her only option is to take it and escape with it to her casket.

Her hand darts out with an unmatchable speed, ready to pluck the book from his hands and sate her curiosity.

Her wrist is pulled forward and her body follows, tiny form sailing through the air. She's too stunned to correct herself as she falls and lands flat on her back. The air she doesn't need is knocked out of her and she lays there for a moment, marveling at the empty feeling in her chest from the lack of oxygen. There is a split second where she forgets that she was thrown and wonders what it would feel like if she were alive with such empty lungs. Her attention is brought back when something shiny enters her vision. The spirals of her eyes churn faster as they cross to focus on the point of a blade between them. Her gaze follows the blade towards its wielder and stops at cold eyes.

Sephiroth's gaze is stony.

She has crossed a line. No matter how indulgent he is with her, there is a line. A line she never knew there to be. The threat hangs in the air. There will be punishment if she tries this again. She should scoff at the audacity. They both know who is stronger. But she can't move against his gaze.

She's powerless under the weight of his disapproval.


Neither know how long they've been sitting there but the sounds of hurried footfalls and swishing skirts break the trance.

Karma's gaze looks past her pet to see her personal maids running over. Their eyes are wide with worry and concern as they take in the broken glass that was once the labyrinth. The two hurry over and Karma snatches her hands away, one swiping over her face and banishing any traces of her meltdown. Her image is once again that of a porcelain doll, beautiful and perfect. Her pet averts his gaze and assumes a properly submissive posture with lowered shoulders and bowed head. Small and unassuming even as his blood continues to stain his white garbs.

White.

Everything around them was white and pristine. Was. White floors, white ceilings, clear walls and white lights. A cavern of white. So white it was maddening. But now stains and cracks littered marred every inch of that white.

How beautifully broken everything was.

The maids stop on either side of her, fussing over her and making sure not a single shard of glass has marred her precious skin. Her pet stays as he is, silently bleeding as he is ignored as always.

The red creeps up his chest as it soaks into his shirt.

"Heal him."

Her tone was brusque, so unlike the soft and light manner in which she usually spoke. The maids froze for a moment, their eyes meeting over Karma's head in confusion and concern. Should they really prioritize a worthless human over their mistress? The air grew heavy and they moved, the blonde carefully lifting the injured hand while the brunette eased him onto his rear to treat his feet. The two worked swiftly and efficiently, cleaning blood and applying salves. This was not the first time they'd treated the worm but never had Lady Karma had such an air about her as they did so.

Her pet wisely stayed silent, even as his injuries were bandaged none too gently. The scratches across his body from the falling glass were minor compared to his feet and hand. His clothes are torn in multiple spots, pale skin peeking through. The maids are uncaring as they rip away the damaged clothing to better access the wounds. Silvery bite marks and scars litter his upper body, a soft contrast to the disappearing red with each pass of a maid's hand.

They don't bother with potions or salves, only cleaning and bandages. There is no need. Not with how the smaller cuts are already sealing themselves.

Not now that he's little more than human.

His dignity has long been stripped from him as he continues to sit bare chest and wrapped in bandages before a child who barely stands at his chest. His skin has grown paler with the time he's spent here. Eyes that were once brown and warm with humanity have faded to a cool gray that glints like steel when emotions find a chance to flicker through. Once brilliant red hair, fiery like his belief in his god, has been stripped of his vibrancy to a pale, almost white, shade of pink. Gone is the fervent believer.

He's now a pretty little pet.

A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips as the blonde maid produces a clean change of clothes. White again, just like his mistress.

As the maid changes his clothes, he finally takes notice of a detail that had poked at him for a while. These clothes were familiar. He'd seen them many times before. Not anywhere outside but here within the tomb. He never realized it before because they lacked any color…

But he is dressed like the boy, Sephiroth, who'd given him over to his mistress in the first place.

He'd caught sight of his reflection in a large piece of glass when the realization hit him. His build was wrong, shoulders too broad and frame much too msaculine. His skin was much lighter as was his hair. The eyes were the wrong color. But all he could see in his features was a mix of Sephiroth's and his mistresses. Like she was trying to make him more than her pet.

His heart breaks for his mistress.

"We are finished, Lady Karma." The maids spoke with a bow, breaking him out of his reverie. Karma surveyed their work and nodded in silence. There must have been some signal, the maids bowed again and soon more appeared. The homunculi worked to clean the glass swiftly but it would take time to clean a space as large as this. Silver eyes looked around as he tried to decide where he would sleep. There was no need for the decision as his mistress had made one.

"Come." Karma said and turned on her heel and hurried away. Her pet obediently rose to his feet and followed after her. Discomfort crawled its way through his veins as he realized they were leaving the maze. Why were they leaving his home?

He felt small and out of place as they made their way through the imposing hallways. Bare feet padded along softly, their light footfalls the only sound under the vaulted ceilings. His mistress moves quickly, covering as much ground as possible without actually running. Her skirts flare dramatically around her legs with each step. He hastens his own pace, somewhat struggling to match her speed.

Unfamiliar doors and paths pass him by as he follows his mistress. The occasional maid dots their path, bowing politely to the little lady. He can see the concern and worry hidden beneath their skin as they flash his mistress a fleeting look. It briefly crosses his mind to ask why they've only seen maids but thinks better of it. No need to push anymore boundaries than he has today.

Though his mind now wanders back to what had happened. Why had his mistress suddenly cried out like that? And what caused her skin to break and discolor like that? What was going on and would it happen again?


A soft sigh escapes her as she's sat upon her bed, soft silk caressing her naked skin. Her eyes are still lidded with the afterglow of her orgasm as swirling green orbs follow the movements of her butler. She is too relaxed to do more than raise her arms or lower her wings as directed when Sebas dresses her. Her head lolls to the side as the ties are done behind her neck, temptingly arched for the butler. A yawn escapes her and she rolls to lie on her stomach, body and wings stretched out languidly like a cat in the sun. White tresses fan across her back like moonlight on a body of water as she relaxes into the soft pillows.

She's a creature of incomparable beauty, something to be worshiped upon the altar and offered abject loyalty.

Sebas feels his heart skip a beat at the easy display of sensuality and trust. His gaze takes in every detail of her wings while resolutely ignoring the four shiny scars marring her lower back. The bed dips under his weight as he sits beside her and gently smooths his hand along her spine in soothing strokes. A deep sigh escapes the angel as she further relaxes into the bed. He knows that for all the airs she puts out, she is struggling. Only he and Sephiroth have seen Lady Carisimmi with her walls down and mask off. Every step she takes is filled with a sense of pride and control, determined to remain strong for her people. But strength wanes in the face of exhaustion.

For heavy is the head that wears the crown.

He is glad that she is finally taking a moment to herself. He knows that her nights are never truly with peace, her sleeping frame trembling with hidden terrors within his arms. Trauma lacing every word her restless mind murmurs into the night. Whispered names firmly ingrained in his mind.

Kamado and Nara.

Those two names appear the most often. Nara summons a deep sorrow in her voice and scent, with the bitter taste of betrayal weaving its way in between. There would be the occasional flicker of love at the start of any dream featuring before it is ultimately soured by the pain that always follows.

He feels safe in his assumption that this Nara character is a former lover. One that betrayed her quite deeply.

He wishes to seek revenge on her behalf, an act that would be so unlike him.

But Nara is the lesser of his concerns. No, it is this Kamado character that raises his hackles. The mere thought of him existing anywhere near his mistress puts him on edge. He knows when Carissimi dreams about him, even before she cries his name. Pure, unadulterated fear pours off of her in waves. She'll tremble so hard he fears she'll break. Many a night she's slept with his finger clenched between her teeth, a move he makes to prevent her from damaging them. He's always sure to remove it before she wakes but it does little to ease the pain in his chest when she asks how he slept. He wonders if anyone knows the depth of his mistress's pain.

He can vaguely recall his creator mumbling the name Kamado once before disappearing to the 8th floor.

He is drawn from his thoughts by a long sigh and shifting wings. Carisimmi turns herself slightly on her side to get a better view of Sebas. A soft expression graces her face as gentle eyes trace every feature of his. Taking a moment to study him, she seems to find something of satisfaction and stretches a wing high above them. The primaries barely brush against the high canopy of the bed as she reaches a hand out to him in a silent request. Lady Carissimi has far more silent moments after her disappearance than before. Sebas remembers waiting everyday for her outside of the 8th Floor during her first extended silence. It was a painful and haunting time. But this silence is peaceful. It's the silence of two people simply enjoying one another's company.

"My lady…" Sebas murmured as he leaned towards his mistress's outstretched hand. Her small hand cups the side of his face and Sebas soaks in the soft skin and slight warmth. Her thumb stroked the sharp curve of his cheekbone before moving higher to gently drag her fingers across the nape of his neck. He went along easily with her gentle pull as she rolled to lay on her back., wings stretched out against silk sheets. Sebas had to put his hands on either side of her waist to maintain his balance as he leaned over her. His care is treated with a soft smile as gentle pools of green stared into his soul. His eyes followed every line and curve of her face, from the tiny crease in the corner of her eyes when she blinked to the soft curve of her jaw joining to her human-like ears. Everything about her was absolutely perfect.

Sebas cared not for the status or the power she held. Looking into her eyes, catching every shifting shade of green and dancing gold from her magic in those endless orbs, he felt himself falling ever so hopelessly in love. Maybe it was too soon to say it out loud. Maybe she would never feel the same. Maybe she would. Maybe she would be his first betrayal to Lord Ainz. But no matter what happens, his heart will only beat for her.

The air between them seemed to warm the longer they looked at one another. There was no denying a connection. Carisimmi's other hand slowly came up to join its twin around Sebas's neck and slowly carded through silver hair. Sebas relaxed into her touch and closed his eyes. A gentle pull and the butler allowed himself to be pulled down till he was laying across his mistress's chest, his head dressed firmly against her bosom to listen to the steady beats of her heart. He could feel a stirring in his loins as he sank into the softness of his chest and soaked in her clean scent. Nothing further than that happened though, the gentle atmosphere of the moment allowing him to remain in control.

Still, he could not help the way an ungloved hand snuck under her dress to draw mindless circles on a smooth thigh. The motion was simple and innocent enough that Carismmi didn't mind. Her head was filled with happy, floaty thoughts as the two of them enjoyed their little bubble.

A flash of light burned through their closed eyes and the bubble popped.

A sharp chill shot through Carisimmi as her veins were suddenly doused in ice. There's an uncomfortable warmth that comes from the right side of her bed, like being forced under the hot sun while trapped in a wet sheet. The heat does nothing to ease the ice in her veins. It seems to draw every bit of warmth from her body, leaving a cold husk. She slowly turns her head towards the right to see the truth she hopes is false but a firm hand stops her.

"M'lady." Sebas starts as he sits up. "Dont." His hand holds the side of her face and blocks her peripherals but she still fights to see. "Let go of me Sebas." Carisimmi demands as she tries to sit up. A hiss escapes her and she realizes she's pinned down. There's a hand

tangled in the feathers near the base of her wing and the heavy weight of Sebas lies between her legs. She didn't even notice him move but the full length of his body atop her's keeps her in place. Carissimi struggled to buck the butler off but his sturdy frame was unrelenting. "Sebas let me go!" She screeched, eyes flashing pink and teeth sharpening to bare fangs.

Sebas frowned at the action and held the angel's head more firmly. "I can't do that, m'lady." He pressed himself more firmly against the angel so she couldn't hurt herself with her struggles. A few feathers came loose in his fist, diamonds cutting into his palm and staining white plumes red. The pain didn't even register as he tried to keep the angel still. "I made you a promise and I intend to keep it."

Carisimmi froze and for a second, Sebas thought he had calmed her. It was only a second, then his body was flung to the opposite side of the bed by Carisimmi's other wing. The large limb easily batted him away, several feathers following the arc and shooting towards him. Cuts and slashes bloomed across his skin and clothes as he braced himself. There wasn't enough force to impale him but the sharp edges did enough damage. Sebas was quick to his feet and tried to stop the angel from looking. But it was too late.

So few are privy to the secrets of the Supreme Beings. Fewer to the ones of Carisimmi. Even less to the secrets of the caskets. They were more than pretty decorations or places of sleep. They held a great power. Crafted and enchanted so carefully and meticulously, their value hailing them as one of the Great Twenty. He only knew what he did as Lord Touch Me wanted him to be able to serve Lady Carissimi to the best of his abilities. The caskets were yet another form of his mistress's love for her creations but also a fatal weakness.

Sebas could only watch as the angel crumbled to the floor and sobbed, the air trembling with the pain in her voice. Her crystalline tears glittered with a sick beauty under the glow of the Sephiroth's casket. Why did she have to be so beautiful even in suffering? Sebas approached her cautiously and collected her in his arms even as she fought against him. Her hiccuping breaths and flapping wings were the only struggle she could make as he tucked her arms between their charts and held her close. "I am so sorry, m'lady." He crooned whilst stroking her hair. She was such an emotional creature, so unlike the constant grace and poise of before. But he could not fault her for that. The barrier that existed between God and servant was gone, left behind when she and their lord stayed with them.

"I promise, Lady Carissimi…" Sebas continued as he started rocking the angel. "Everything will be fine."

And every thing would be fine. But it was a matter of every one that worried him. How had sephiroth been killed within the Tomb? This was a matter to investigate and report. He had to tell Lord Ainz of this immediately. Glancing down at his precious Supreme Being, he counted her breaths. She had tired herself out, stamina lacking in these recent days. He would find a way to rectify that but for now, it was a small mercy. Carefully releasing her of one arm, he pressed a finger to his ear and sent a Message.

"Lord Ainz, I regret to inform you that Lord Sephiroth has been slain." Sebas reported.

The response was immediate.

"What? How is this possible? Sephiroth is not someone to be taken down easily nor should he have been in any position to enter combat?"

Sebas knew what his lord was implying and it hurt to know he'd thought the same. Sephiroth was amongst the least antagonistic of the Guardians and was more often than not in a space of zero danger. He was too skilled and careful to have been killed by his own folly…

"My apologies, m'lord. But I fear there may be an intruder…"

The doors to Carisimmi's room flong open, light streaming into the darkened space. Karma stood in the doorway with an impressive yet wide eyed stare. Her gaze was locked on the glowing casket, completely ignoring the two bathing in its glow. Her pet joined her moments later, standing quietly behind her and keeping his gaze lowered. The fact that the man was outside of the maze was curious, so was his stance. But his appearance was what stirred his worries.

"..or a traitor with the Great Tomb of Nazarick."