The Simulacrum

It was official: all the Abyssal Castles were the bloody same.

Or, at the very least, that was the conclusion I could draw from a sample size of three. In the middle of the cobblestone maze of the town whose name I never bothered to learn stood a familiar structure, sitting on top of a dark stone plateau jutting out of the heart of the settlement. I rarely got to have a good look at one of these from a distance, but from the Inanna Patriarch's vantage point, high up in the sky, the fortified estate resolved into a majestic yet also slightly creepy. Giant buttresses gnarled around each other, their surfaces carved with a menagerie of stone gargoyles frozen in eternal mid-roar. The main keep, a colossal block of granite, was covered with hundreds of lancet windows, complete with pointed arch tops.

In other words, it looked exactly the same as the Castle Inanna I was intimately familiar with and the Castle Ninhursag I'd seen in passing during the battle. Of course, only you looked closer, there were some individual touches introduced by the ruling families, but from up here, the nuances were washed out by the dominating samey-ness of the overall design and identical floor-plan. That made me wonder: the Emergents made the scenario, building on top of previous scenarios, some of which ostensibly took place in the Abyss, but I sincerely doubted that they manually created every nook and cranny and personally sculpted every single dumb gargoyle perched on the sides of the castle's spires.

Considering that, and the fact that all of these looked the same, did that mean the Simulacrum made them? Or maybe there was a hand-crafted initial castle where a scenario took place, and now that the whole Abyss got entangled in a different one, that 'template' castle got copy-pasted all over the place. I would've loved to bounce some of these ideas off Judy, but she was still mad at me right now.

It was a bit unreasonable of her, I had to say. I mean, it was future-me's doing, so I didn't do anything wrong… yet.

Anyhow, after the long flight, Crowy landed in the courtyard of Castle Nergal; a scene that was oddly similar to his arrival at the Ninhursag (or, at this point, Ninurta) estate. He was even welcomed the same way, though this time by Belette Nergal. He greeted Crowy with an ear-to-ear grin and literal open arms.

"Welcome back, Herald of the Emperor! What a refreshing encounter that was, wasn't it?"

He was already back to normal, wearing a snazzy gothic black suit with lots of gold filigree and an oversized bolo-tie with a green gem in the middle. Future-me must've taken him home right after he served his role as a glorified distraction for Fidèle, and while Crowy was flying over the country, he had ample time to tidy himself up a bit.

"Where's the Emperor?"

Seeing that he wasn't in a good mood, the Nergal Patriarch's jovial grin was quickly replaced by a stern look. He jerked his head towards the main keep.

"He transported me directly to the lobby, then disappeared into thin air, like a daytime mirage. It was a rather peculiar experience, I must say. Traveling across such vast distances in but the blink of an eye. Not to mention, a disorienting one."

"I can't say I have ever experienced it," Crowy stated flatly, much to the other Abyssal Lord's thinly veiled surprise.

"Really? Is there a reason for that?"

"Don't mind it."

Crowy hefted the limp class rep, drawing the other Lord's attention to her.

"Is she the bounty you were after?" He leaned closer to take a better look, though he could only inspect the top of her slumped-over head. "I personally prefer my women with a bit more meat on them, but I certainly won't hold your partialities against you, Herald."

"Cut the witticisms, Lord Nergal. I'm not in the mood." Crowy squinted as his eyes swept across the spacious courtyard, eventually settling back on Belette. "Where's Dimas?"

"Ah, your Majordomo?" the Nergal Patriarch asked back, followed by a careless shrug. "I believe he's currently in the west wing, preparing a secure room for your…"

His words trailed off, eyes pointedly glued to Ammy, clearly hoping that the other man would drop a hint. He didn't, and Crowy simply hefted her unconscious body, holding her like a sack of potatoes under his arm and turned on his heel. As he walked away, I could see Belette's mouth move, silently making the motions for something along the lines of 'arrogant bastard'. Or maybe it was just my antipathy speaking.

In any case, he didn't follow after Crowy. As for the Inanna Patriarch, he didn't bother to de-transform (maybe because he had no change of clothes at hand, or maybe so that he could carry the class rep with ease), and he casually stomped across the castle's corridors like he owned the place. In a sense, he kind of did.

On the way, he encountered a couple of unfamiliar faces; mostly local servants, officials, and a couple of Fauns. Some of them offered to help him carry the unfamiliar girl, no doubt considering it a rare opportunity to ingratiate themselves with the Herald of the Emperor, but he rebuked each and every one of them like they were common thieves out to rob him of his most precious property.

He must've been familiar with his destination (and not just because the floor plan had the same layout as his own castle), as he moved with clear purpose, past the fancy galleries and the luxuriant lobbies. At last, he stood in front of an unremarkable wooden door, its faded frame reinforced with iron straps and inscribed with a copious amount of wards. Crowy entered without even bothering to knock.

"Oh. It's you, My Liege."

The air was still in the windowless space. A single gas lamp hung on a thick chain from an unseen point in the vaulted ceiling, the only source of light in the small, windowless room. The chamber was situated in the middle of the building, and from the context, I imagined it was a room set aside for the guests of the involuntary persuasion.

The floor was of dark, unpolished oak; the boards groaning underfoot as Crowy stepped inside, a noise drowned out by the slamming of the door behind him. On the left, a colossal wardrobe of carved mahogany stood against one wall with even more bloody gargoyles decorating its surface, frozen in silent screams. On the right, a four-poster bed dominated the space, with a heavy, brocade canopy sagging over the black and red bedding.

And then, in the middle, stood Dimas Ekhtear, Crowy's right-hand man. He was wearing the same grey navy uniform as always, matching his long hair and eyes, and making me wonder if that was the only outfit in his entire wardrobe. He fell to one knee as soon as he recognised Crowy's entrance, only to immediately jump back to his feet when he practically threw the class rep at him.

"Ah? Is this…?"

"Yes. It's her."

"Congratulations, My Liege."

The man in the navy uniform moved the unconscious Ammy over to the large bed and did his best to lay her down in a comfortable position. It was only once she was situation that he turned to Crowy again and quietly asked, "How about the Emperor?"

"He doesn't know yet, or at least I don't think so," Crowy spoke as he walked over to the wardrobe.

He opened it up, and once he inspected the clothes inside, he finally undid his transformation. I've seen this lots of times, even from up close with the princess, but the way the horns and the wings receded into his body was still as fascinatingly weird as ever. As for his 'regal' (by a certain definition of the word) outfrit that came with his Abyssal form, it burst into purple flames and disappeared without leaving ash or smoke. Was his getup made of flash paper, I wondered.

The only piece of his apparel that remained was, once again, a pair of black pants frayed up to the knees. He quickly got out of those and started rummaging through the clothes in the wardrobe, all the while continuing the previous track of the conversation.

"The Emperor is convinced that I'm infatuated with this girl, and as aggravating as that is, we have to ensure it remains that way." He paused to send a sharp glance at the other man. "You hear me, Dimas? He cannot, under any circumstances, catch wind of this."

"I understand, My Liege. My lips are sealed."

"Good."

Meanwhile, Crowy finished changing into a pretty stereotypical black and red ensemble with a fancy cape that was screaming, 'I'm a villain!'. Or being a big fan of Count Dracula. The Bela Lugosi version, to be exact. He walked over to the bedside and looked at Ammy with a cold, dispassionate stare. At first, silence, then he pointed two fingers at her. An inky blackness seeped from his fingertips, undulating like a flag in the wind for a few seconds before suddenly lashing out towards the class rep, almost like a living thing, like a snake snapping at its prey.

It hit her in the shoulder, and after a long beat, her eyes popped open as a pained yelp erupted from her throat. Her whole body shook, as if she was being electrocuted, and the moment the black tendril retreated, she hugged her shoulders and curled up into a foetal position, her mouth open and gasping for air.

It took several seconds for her eyes to finally regain their light and focus, and when they did, a new surge of panic showed on her face. Her gaze met with Crowy's, and she instinctively tried to crawl away, but was stopped by the end of the bed.

"So we meet again," Crowy gloated without a shred of subtlety, his mouth curved into a cattish smile. Specifically, a cat that had already cornered the mouse and was planning to spend its sweet time playing with them.

"W-What's going on? Where am I?"

"That's not something for you to worry about right now," he told her in a faux-gentle tone and reached out towards her. The class rep froze up like a deer in the headlights and allowed him to grab her chin. "What was your name again?"

I would've bet my pancreas he had to know that, considering she was officially Lord Grandpa's only relative, and therefore a VIP even before the whole Grimoire business, so he must've been playing some mind-games with her.

"… Amelia."

"Ah, that's right. Amelia," Crowy repeated after her, his eyes alight with a hungry spark. "You know exactly what I want from you, don't you?"

"I-I… The Mana Well… I… I…" She frantically looked left and right, turning paler by the second. "It's… I was in my bag. I-I must've dropped it, or…"

"That's not what I'm talking about," the bastard interrupted her, his fingers clenching harder on her face. "The Ninhursag's Mana Well is something that belongs to me, but I will gain custody of it in time. No, Amelia. The thing I want… is you."

"M-Me?"

"Oh, yes…" His lips curved into a supremely creepy smile, and he dragged her closer, until their noses were only about a palm's width away from touching. "You are my key. The key to something that I need… no, something that belongs to me, and you are going to give it to me."

"I…" The class rep's eyes opened wide, but this time it wasn't because of panic. Or, well, not just panic, but let's not split hairs about that. "I'm not helping you!"

"Oh, but you will." He raised his other hand to show it off, and from his palm rose a whole plethora of undulating, inky black appendages forming something that resembled a grotesque flower, or maybe a sea anemone. "You will cooperate, and you will give me what I want, or else I will let you experience the sensation of all your mana in your body burning like red-hot coals all over again." He paused, and this time his grin took a sadistic undertone. "In fact, maybe another demonstration would make you more… compliant. What do you say, dear Amelia?"

His hand moved with a languid, deliberate slowness as it closed in on the class rep's forehead. She tried to struggle, and… Seriously, what the shit was this?! I knew that future-me was shady, but letting Ammy be tortured was a bridge too far, no matter how I—

"No! Bad Crowy! Bad!"

Oh, wait. False alarm.

Just as the pitch-black flower was about to touch her forehead, the spell (or power, or whatever it was) in his palm abruptly dissipated, and Crowy shuddered in surprise when a rolled-up newspaper hit him on the back of the head. His eyes opened wide as saucers, then a flash of intense fury twisted his expression, which was gone in the blink of an eye, replaced by a stony poker face.

He let go of the class rep and turned around, only to immediately descend to one knee next to the bed, adopting the perfect image of a loyal subject.

"My Emperor. I didn't expect you to—"

"Bad!" Future-me hit him on top of his head again, then threw the bent newspaper to the side. "Come on, Crowy, my favorite overcooked blood hurka! We went over this! When you're raising a pet, you don't do corporal punishment like this! It's beneath us! It makes us look like third-rate villains, like those weird people who put shock collars on their dogs. Do you want to be like them?"

"… No, my Emperor."

"Of course you don't," future-me huffed and puffed, and then his attention turned to the class rep. "Ah! Hello!"

"H-Hello?" she responded on autopilot, much to his apparent amusement.

He looked at her from the left, then Phased to the other side of the bed to look at her from the right, and once back at Crowy's side, he crossed his arms and let out a chortle.

"Hah! On second look, my Herald might have surprisingly decent taste, after all. Not my type, though. I like my women like I do my coffee."

He purposefully paused here, sending expectant glances at the other men in the room, and eventually the man in the navy uniform mustered the courage to guess, "Do you mean… black?"

That was followed by another beat, during which future-me continued to give a flat stare at the man.

"Don't be an silly, minion. I meant sweet and hot, obviously. Bringing race into the conversation without rhyme or reason is also third-rate villain behavior. Unless you also have a tiny mustache, which immediately makes you a legendary villain, I hear." He paused to rub his chin, then shrugged. "I have no idea why, though. It looks really snazzy to me, but I must be missing some historical context. I'd better look into it." This time, he pointed at Crowy. "I'm off to the library, then! Behave yourself, all right? I'll be watching."

He then immediately disappeared from the room, much to the two Abyssals' relief… which lasted exactly until he reappeared in the corner.

"Or not! It's a lot of hassle."

"My Emp—"

Before Crowy could finish, he disappeared again… then just as he was about to stand up, he Phased in right next to him.

"Or maybe I will!" Phased out, then back in. "Or maybe I won't." Disappeared again, reappeared again. "But I could be watching." Gone, then not. "I probably won't be though." Dematerialised, then remineralised. "But I might be! You could never know!" This time, he didn't leave right away; instead, he patted Crowy on the shoulder and added, "No pressure. It's not like I'm watching you every second of every minute of every hour of your miserable existence. It would be a gross breach of privacy, right?"

"… True," Crowy squeezed out between quenched teeth, prompting future-me to laugh and wink at him before disappearing again, this time seemingly for good.

"Is he gone?" Dimas asked a tad wearily, a question that made Crowy exhale an irate growl.

"I hope so." He froze up for a second, as if expecting that Bel of the Abyss would show up one last time to spite him. When he didn't, he exhaled again, this time in relief, and rubbed his temple. "He might be onto us. We need to speed up the plan. Dimas?"

"Yes, My Liege?"

He pointed at the confused class rep on the bed and dryly ordered, "Gag her. Her kind can't use powers without a verbal component."

"As you command, My Liege." He wanted to get to it right away, but Crowy raised a hand to stall him, and he stopped in his tracks. "Yes? Is there something else?"

"Let me think…" He did just that, his fingers remaining on his temple for a while until he managed to dig up a new idea from somewhere. "Once you ensure that she's safe and secure, I have a mission for you. I cannot return to Castle Inanna for the time being, so I need you to go and pick up the item for me."

"The… item?" he repeated after him, audibly stumped, which clearly irritated his boss.

"I talk about my new gift I arranged for my dear sister upon her inevitable return." Crowy clarified, his mouth set into an unsavoury smirk as his eyes lingered on the class rep. "I was hoping to present it to Neige personally, but it appears it would suit our new captive better." His gaze returned to his right-hand man, and he asserted, "Travel lightly, and be swift and discreet. We must ensure that this will be a… surprise."

"As you wish, My Liege."

"Good man." With that said, Crowy pulled his cape over his shoulder and headed towards the door. "Be swift. I'll ensure that our Emperor will keep his eyes on me alone until it's… time."

Dimas noted, Crowy left, and the class rep was utterly bamboozled, then shocked when the man retrieved a straight-up ball-gag from his breast pocket, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Putting the casual use of fetish bondage equipment aside, now I knew for sure that Ammy was, if not comfortable, at least not in immediate peril. She still needed rescuing though, so I had to update Judy and the gang on that… as soon as I figured out how to do it without getting chewed out for something I hadn't even done yet.

Yet another reason to hate time travel tropes, I supposed…