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The young boy fiddles with the glowing chess piece in his hands.
It is the heart of a god, a gnosis. Yet, it’s naught but a chess piece.
The Seven are nothing but pieces for both Celestia and the Fatui to play with.
Perhaps the significance of its appearance indicates that this had been planned from the beginning.
And he, too, was but a piece to be used and discarded away.
When he bargained for the gnosis with the Head Priestess of the Grand Narukami Shrine, he could tell that she knew just as much.
Giving him the piece in exchange for the Traveler’s life, the vixen could only laugh and glare at him.
He felt her scornful gaze, full of contempt towards him.
She did not need to speak, because her eyes said all that needed to be said.
“You shouldn’t be here”
It wasn’t a mere glare that told him to not step on sacred grounds again, it was a look of disgust at his existence.
The priestess was not one to get into unnecessary trouble, but she knew she should have gotten rid of him long ago.
Regardless, he didn’t have time to spare playing into the vixen’s silent aggression.
Obtaining the Gnosis was a mission assigned to him by the Fatui.
Acquire it, and send it back to them, that was it.
With nothing else to do there, he prepared to leave the sacred grounds to never return.
Ah, but the vixen wasn’t satisfied with just that. Not at all.
Just as the Balladeer’s figure was almost out of sight, her lips slowly curled into a grin, and then she spoke in an unnatural voice.
"How pitiful you are, Kunikuzushi”
The vixen's tone was mocking, yet the meaning behind her words was clear enough to make them sound like the truth.
A low growl escaped from the boy's throat, his expression filled with rage.
The words were low, almost like a whisper, but they were clear to his ears. She knew what she was doing.
Yet, as much as he wished to have her head right at that instant, he knew better than to go along with her whims.
The boy had no intention of listening to anything she said.
Gritting his teeth and clenching his fists almost as if to bleed, he merely resumed walking.
After leaving the Grand Narukami Shrine behind, the Balladeer stopped at a certain mountain range.
This is where he now stands, idly contemplating the piece that resides in the palm of his hand.
His next step was to leave the cursed land of eternity, and head to his next destination.
But something was holding him back.
This particular piece meant more to him than just an object to give away.
And that's when a particular figure manifested itself in his mind.
A figure he despised to the core.
It was her.
The Narukami Ogosho, Ruler of this land.
She was the reason why he was sent on this journey in the first place.
He was nothing more than a discarded puppet made by her, meant to resemble her.
Because of her, he would be wandering eternally in search of a purpose or meaning to his existence.
Born from divine cloth, yet discarded like a worthless rag.
The rage of that moment made him come to a realization.
Long ago, he once dreamt that the day when he would regain his heart back would come.
Even in the depths of his now hazy memory, he always longed for something.
Hypocritical as it may be, that was also the purpose of Delusions.
To give those without a will, the pretense of having something of their own.
He called them pathetic fools for falling for such a prop. Yet, he had been a fool himself all the same.
And despite knowing all this, he still felt compelled to find her.
He wanted to kill her.
By getting rid of her, he would be the only one left. He would no longer be a copy, but the original.
If he was meant to be divine, what was stopping him from achieving that goal? Now that he finally regained his heart, he would spare no time in using it.
And maybe now, he could feel whole.
No longer an incomplete, heartless puppet.
At least, that's what he told himself.
He had never really cared about the Harbingers goals, nor the Tsaritsa’s intentions.
It was out of boredom and intrigue that he had allowed himself to join their ranks.
And one man in particular had taken an interest in him.
They would mutually benefit each other, as doll and puppetmaster.
The limiters on his husk of a body would be removed one by one, and the Doctor would get the satisfaction of fiddling with a toy.
And so he became one of them.
The Balladeer never intended to follow through with any of their promises.
Their words were empty. They were a group of hypocrites.
But still, they were a great source of entertainment.
So he continued to play his role until he reached his current state.
Unfulfilling an order is a form of betrayal, but the Balladeer did not care in the slightest.
Still, if there is someone who would understand his reasons, it would be none other than the Doctor.
The young boy looks up at the sky, and then to the ground beneath him.
No matter how high he stands above the world, there will always be someone above him. Someone greater than him. Someone who rules the world.
But he doesn't care anymore, all he needs to know is this:
"I can rule over my own life."
Even if it means breaking every rule in existence.
The young man casts one last scornful glance at the land of the Almighty Shogun and swears to himself that one day, he will destroy it along with its ruler.
Once again, he walks forward.
As he stares ahead, the skies begin to crack open.
Thunder booms, lightning strikes the ground and dances around him.
Rain pours down mercilessly, and thunder roars louder than ever.
Nonetheless, he keeps walking.
He walks towards the horizon, ignoring the rain and the cold winds that blew across his face.
His eyes were fixed on the final destination, he did not look back.
At the edge of the earth on the vast horizon, hidden from the sight of the common folk, was a laboratory that the Balladeer knew well.
Big and majestic, yet sinister.
Ever since his deflection, he hadn’t stepped in there for quite some time. The place always radiated the same cold miasma it ever had.
The Balladeer takes a deep breath and sighs, walking inside without hesitation.
At the end of the hall, was the door to the Doctor's chambers.
As he opens the large, heavy door and invites himself in, a familiar, mocking voice calls out to him.
“Well, now. What do we have here? Tired of playing lost child, Balladeer?”
“…Dottore.”
“And here I thought you had broken.” says the man with a sarcastic tone in his voice.
"Do you have so little faith in me?" the Balladeer asks with mild irritation.
Instead of an answer, the Doctor merely laughs. But he knows that the Balladeer is not one to crack easily, as he is proud of his work. Thanks to him, what was once a husk has now increased in potential.
"In any case, I knew you'd be back here sooner or later." Gesturing toward the boy, he demands the piece.
"Let me take a look at it."
The Balladeer gives him the piece, a bit hesitant but trusting either way. Because they had both come to an agreement before. Still, she couldn't help but question him as he looked at the piece curiously.
“You’re aware that by helping me, this makes you a traitor as well? Dottore.”
The man chuckles lightly at the boy's words.
“Didn’t I tell you? My hometown chased me away, and so did the Akademiya. It matters not to me where I go, as long as I can continue my experiments. The Fatui were just a means to an end, nothing more. ”
The Doctor places a gentle hand to caress the boy’s face. “And I am truly thankful, or else I otherwise I would not have met such a specimen as you."
The boy narrows his eyes and recoils in disgust, slapping the hand away.
It’s not the first time Dottore had done that, and it always bothered him. He never needed this overt, friendly familiarity that he at times placed upon him.
It's very strange for a man like him. The Doctor was an odd fellow to begin with, but when he saw the boy, everything changed.
The Doctor doesn't care about anything beyond science. And he'll do whatever it takes to get his hands on a specimen that interests him. That's why he offered the Balladeer his help in the first place.
Now that the boy is in his grasp, the Doctor will use what he has learned from the Balladeer to further his own research. After all, he was the one who shaped him into who he is now.
The Balladeer doesn't understand the Doctor's goals or motivations, nor did he care to know. But as long as he did what he had to do, that was enough.
With a sly smile, Dottore puts the piece into his pocket and continues.
“Now then, shall we begin?”
Without wasting any more time, the Doctor tells the boy to prepare himself. As always, to lie down on the operating table to be dissected away.
He offers him a vial of liquid, as an attempt at anesthetic. But at this point, it is no longer a necessity.
The Doctor prepares his usual arrangements, such as strapping him up properly and placing the necessary light to observe with precision.
Once this is done, metallic tools cut into the Balladeer's skin. It was a sensation he had grown accustomed to.
The Balladeer is completely unbothered by these events.
He knew one thing for certain; the Doctor had become quite proficient at removing the skin. Even when the Doctor was in the middle of pulling away the Balladeer's skin, there was never any pain. Not even a hint of discomfort. That was because the Doctor knew exactly where to go and how to do things.
The first few years it had been painful, but now he no longer feels anything. Not even a flinch.
But even if he felt nothing, he was still a doll of flesh, blood, and bone. Not of wood or steel.
The blood dripping from the table that stained the tools in crimson indicated as much.
The Doctor continued his work with great concentration, twisting the tools in the Balladeer’s flesh. Even if he felt no pain, he could still tell how rough the Doctor was with handling his body.
He never held any regard both to his comfort and his being.
Indeed, it was like fiddling with a machine.
A machine may spill oil, and parts of it may fall as it gets tampered with, but it does not whine and complain.
Sometimes, even the Balladeer was curious, What was the inside of his body like?
Was he truly a puppet, a machine, right to the core? Did he have organs, just like a human? Or was he truly just a husk?
He could bleed and be wounded, but those wounds were never deep enough to be significant.
Perhaps he was no different from a Ruin Guard, just taking a human form.
His insides were exposed to the cold air, with only one person to see what they looked like.
Then, the Doctor stopped moving the tool around, making the Balladeer feel impatient.
The Doctor never liked being silent during these sessions, he always had some idle chatter to spout. Even if he got no response from the Balladeer, he loved the sound of his own voice regardless.
And this time was no different either, however, there was a slight tinge of disappointment in his words.
“It’s quite a shame though.” He says as he breaks the silence of the dissection. “This may be the last time we may talk to each other like this.”
Knowing the underlying meaning of his words, his restrained arms shaking for a moment, he couldn’t help but respond in retaliation, feigning ignorance.
"What are you talking about?"
Satisfied by getting a rise out of the boy that rarely ever spoke back to him, the Doctor continued on.
“Surely you’re aware of what happened to our lovely Rosalyne, do you? Standing against the Shogun isn’t an easy feat. “
“Do you believe of me to be as weak as her? It’s your duty to make me stronger. Or are you not even as great of a doctor that you believe yourself to be?”
“Hmph.” Though irritated by the last remark, he still continues.
“Rosalyne may not have been as strong as you are. But even you must know, that rushing towards your death is a fool’s errand. A gnosis won’t make you stronger overnight, my dear Balladeer.”
Despite having needles pry at him plenty of times before, his words stung like none of those needles could.
Did the Doctor know something that he didn’t? Despite fiddling with his body all the time, were there still limitations that he couldn’t get rid of?
“It has nothing to do with your body.” Exclaims the Doctor, as if he knew what the boy had been thinking. “Those emotions of yours are a weakness. Your stubbornness, your anger, your impatience. No matter how strong you may get, those pesky things can ruin even the finest of experiments. Even your current heart is vulnerable. “
Shut up.
“Retrieving your former heart will not strengthen you as you believe it will. Your desire will be your undoing, you puppet yearning for a heart. You are weak not by strength, but by emotion, is that not so? Kunikuz—“
Unable to contain his irritation, a particularly fierce impulse overcomes the Balladeer and he is able to free himself from his restraints. His hands grab directly at Dottore's throat, attempting to crush it.
“I told you to not call me by that name.”
The gnosis was barely put into place inside him, yet he’s already showcasing a great display of strength.
But still, the Balladeer was on the lower scale of strength compared to the Doctor. Even if he was fonder of research and papers, theory and science, he was still physically capable if the situation arose.
And as such, he grabs the boy's arms and twists them away from his throat. Breaking several of his bones in the process.
But no matter, he can always fix them back into place. However, as he had said, this might be the last time he does so.
The gnosis is certainly providing him great strength, but even in this state the heightening of his emotions is proving to be correct.
Even if the Balladeer were to fail in his quest of revenge, the Doctor will still obtain results in regards to his experiment.
Ultimately, he does not care if the boy lives or dies.
That’s not to say, that he wouldn’t miss his favorite test subject.
While he’s doing this knowing full well of the eventual risks that the Balladeer may suffer, it’s his intrigue that makes him want to keep going.
After all, the Balladeer is far too interesting.
When the puppet’s bones creak, for the first time in a long while, the Balladeer furrows his brows slightly.
Oh, so he had felt that.
"Hmmm? What is this?" the Doctor's eyes widened in surprise and bemusement. "You won't be able to defeat the Narukami Ogosho if you can't handle something like this, Balladeer."
The Doctor ties the boy back to the examination table, increasing the pressure of his restraints.
Those arms of his lie limp at his side, he won't be able to use them again unless the Doctor fixes them.
And he will, in due time. But now, he needs to concentrate on the matter at hand.
Feeling defeated, the Balladeer simply keeps quiet as he usually does. Playing into the Doctor's whims was a mistake, he normally doesn’t do so.
Maybe it had been the pent-up rage he still had from interacting with the priestess.
Perhaps he was right, he needs to subdue his emotions. If the Doctor was able to break him so easily in just a moment’s flash, there’s no telling what the Narukami Ogosho may do.
He will only spare one breath to ask a menial question, as engaging with the madman is a pointless endeavor.
“How long will this take, Dottore?”
“It will take as much as it needs to. Why the hurry?”
The Balladeer doesn’t answer back.
They’re back to their usual routine. With the doctor’s voice merely echoing as he speaks to himself.
The Doctor smiles, and gives a low chuckle.
"What you do, is up to you. However, I'd like to enjoy my little puppet for a while longer."
And once again, he puts a hand on his cheek. Cupping his chin and taking a good look into his eyes.
With his arms broken and restrained, he can't defend himself. And the Doctor delights in knowing that, even now, he is filled with anger.
Despite the Balladeer's crude and brash attitude, to the Doctor, he always looked divine.
Perfectly imperfect. He was beautiful from every angle, and nothing but a joy to behold.
He could have been made of gold, glass or rot for all that mattered.
He was a marvel in the purest sense of the word, and he was worth all the effort put forth.
With the gnosis now in their possession, it was the Doctor’s duty to exalt that divinity.
Neither he, nor the Balladeer know what will become of him once he takes all of its power into his body.
But that was fine by him, he just wanted to have fun with him until then.
Maybe he will accomplish his goal, or maybe he will perish just like Rosalyne.
Only time will tell.