Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He holds the large disk, the gift from the woman he helped earlier, in his hands. He inspects the object, having never seen something like it before. What exactly does it do, he wonders. 

“You lied to her,” Gemini chirps, breaking his concentration on the disk. “If you don’t mind, would you tell me why?”

At first, Pinocchio thinks that the lamp puppet is upset with him. However, thinking about his tone of voice, he concludes that Gemini isn’t mad but rather curious about his actions. 

“I just thought…maybe it was better for her to not know.”

A pool of blood. Bodies, mangled beyond recognition of what they once were, beaten by the large puppet stomping on them. The only thing that remained among the carnage: a doll resembling a baby.

“She wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between the doll and a real baby anyway,” continues Pinocchio. “She mentioned the disease was making her blind.”

“Well…you have a point there,” Gemini responds. “Who knows how much longer she has before she passes away. Maybe it is best that she lives the rest of her days at least thinking she’s with her baby.” 

That’s not the thing P wants to focus on right now, however. He’s more concerned about the gift from the woman. What exactly is it? As he continues to inspect it, thinking maybe it is a weapon or some sort of usable item, Gemini picks up on the puppet boy’s curiosity. 

“Oh! Interested in it, huh?” he chirps. “I bet we can play it back at the hotel!”

“Play?” inquires P. 

“It’s a music record. I think there’s a gramophone back at the hotel, so we can listen to it there.”

P remains silent at Gemini’s statement, anticipating further explanation. The cricket picks up on this and turns orange. 

“Wait, do you even know what I’m talking about?” he asks, and P shakes his head. In response, Gemini chirps excitedly. 

“Oh boy! I don’t think I can really explain music. It’s something you’re gonna have to hear for yourself!”

Music…what exactly is music, Pinocchio questions in his head. While he’s been active for a couple of hours now, he hasn’t really found anything particularly interesting outside of meeting his father. But this music…that’s piqued his curiosity. 

__

Geppetto, his father, wants him to make way for Venigni Works tomorrow to look for a colleague of his. Apparently Venigni, the owner of the factory, went there to find a way to stop the production of more frenzied puppets but has since gone missing. 

However, P’s not necessarily concerned about that. His patience has waned and he wants to know what music is right now. Gemini being so unnecessarily secretive about it hasn’t helped. Making his way downstairs, P finds the gramophone next to Polendina’s desk. 

While trying to figure out how to make the device work, P notices Sophia approaching him. 

“Welcome back, Clever One,” she greets, smiling. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to play music,” Gemini responds. 

“Ah, I see.”

She asks if she could see the record P’s trying to play then gives him instructions of how to start up the device. Eventually, he gently places the record on top and watches it spin. 

“Now, listen,” says Sophia. 

At first, no sound plays. Although P wonders that maybe he did something wrong, he looks back to Sophia who simply closes her eyes and waits patiently. He wants to speak up and ask if this was supposed to happen.

Then…

“Close your eyes…”

He stops, completely focusing on the record as it spins. 

“Come to me…”

He stares at it, not knowing what to do. 

“Feel alright. Just dance with me all through the night”

A voice, a piano, some instruments he doesn’t recognize. 

It’s all new…and yet it feels familiar. 

He…enjoys it. 

“Just want you to step with me, dance with me, here with me, feel alright.”

He doesn’t know what exactly this voice is speaking of, but he doesn’t think that really matters. 

It’s a…beautiful?…yes, a beautiful sound. 

__

Something catches Geppetto’s attention from outside his office. Something faint…is that music, he wonders. Intrigue piqued, the old man walks out and can now hear the melody of a song playing on the gramophone. He can’t believe that device still works and how there’s music playing now. He could’ve sworn there weren’t any records lying around, unless Antonia had a few stored somewhere secret. 

On the balcony, Geppetto notices his son standing in front of the gramophone. That’s interesting, he thought. He didn’t think that Pinocchio would take a liking in music. The fact that his puppet is even interested in music in the first place is what makes the whole situation peculiar. Walking down the stairs, he finds Antonia strolling out on her wheelchair into the main hall at the same time. 

“What a lovely tune,” she comments, a faint smile forming on her wrinkled face. “I don’t think I’ve heard this one before.”

“Neither have I,” says Geppetto. “How do you think Pinocchio obtained that record?”

“Who knows. It’s astonishing he was able to find one while traversing Krat. You’d think everything would be destroyed during the chaos of the Frenzy.”

“But apparently not.”

As the inventor watches Pinnochio staring at the spinning record, fascinated by how engrossed his son is by the music, he notices a slight twitch in the puppet’s fingers. Is he moving along to the beat perhaps? 

Eventually, the song comes to an end, and Geppetto studies Pinocchio’s movements. His son’s twitching extends from his fingers all the way to his shoulder, and the puppet boy also places a hand on his chest. 

“Odd…” Geppetto wonders out loud. That music caused a reaction within Pinocchio. That’s something the old man wants to take note of. 

__

What was that feeling? His heart just…beated? P finds it odd, strange, any kind of word that describes weirdness. And yet, it also felt…nice. Yes, nice would be a good word to use to describe that. 

“Soooo…what’d you think?” Gemini asks, excitedly anticipating P’s response. 

P takes a few seconds to think of a word, a phrase, or a whole sentence that could be an appropriate response to the lamp’s question. After a few moments, he responds:

“I…e-enjoyed it.”

Yes, ‘enjoy’ might be the best way to say it. 

The clock on the second floor chimes twelve times. It’s a little late into the night. 

“You should probably get some rest,” he hears his father say from the stairs. “You may be a puppet, but you may still be prone to poor judgment. A good amount of sleep will do you well.” 

He hears his father say that, but P wonders how exactly does a puppet ‘sleep’? What would that be like?

“I shall escort you to your personal quarters,” says Polendina, bowing to P. 

The puppet butler shows P to a tightly neat room on the second floor, and it’s just a few rooms down from Geppetto’s office. After bidding Polendina goodnight, P is left to his own devices within the room. 

The bed is what P thinks would be called ‘soft’. It’s comfortable enough to lie down on. He places Gemini on the small table next to the bed. The lamp seems to already be deactivated. Maybe he’s ‘sleeping’? 

As P lies down and tries to close his eyes, a thought runs through his head about the music he just heard. So soothing, quiet, and lovely. So…beautiful. He wants to hear more. 

“Close your eyes…” he tries to repeat the sound of the voice. “Come to me…”

What else did the voice say though? He tries to remember as much as he can. 

“Feel alright. Just dance with me…all through the night.”

Humming. A woman…a mother holding a baby…a doll in her arms. She loves it all the same for she didn’t know any better. She hums a…song, a lullaby to her baby. 

Ah, that’s why it sounded familiar.

Chapter Text

The deformed corpse of the former Archbishop disperses into blue spores of ergo. As the remains disappear, a voice echoes from the ergo. 

I want to go back to the old Krat, the old me…before the greed overtook me. 

A strange phenomenon P had discovered a while ago when he first encountered someone transformed by the petrification disease. The final words of the fallen were heard only to him, likely due to how he is the one who had killed them. 

If P was a human, he’d be exhausted and would collapse right here in this room. The battle against Andreus was grueling. But, he’s survived and, as he is a puppet, in relatively top condition, ready for whatever it is he’ll have to face next. 

“I think it’d be best to head back to the Hotel for some rest,” Gemini chirps. “We also need to update the others on the situation.”

P agrees with the lamp and heads back for the stargazer in the previous room. Before he transports back to the hotel, however, a thought crosses his mind. He wonders about Cecile, a nun he met before facing Andreus. After doing a task for her, P noticed that Cecile seemed a bit distressed about the well-being of the Archbishop. Now that he’s dead, P thinks that it might be best to inform her of the situation. 

When he looks for her in the corner of the room she had placed herself in for safety, he doesn’t find a trace of her. 

“She must have escaped from the Cathedral shortly after we gave her the Holy Mark,” comments Gemini. 

“Hopefully she’s safe at the very least,” mumbles P. 

Before leaving, he notices something on the ground in place of where Cecile had been standing before. Inspecting the area, he finds a note encased in a large envelope. Curious of its contents, P opens it and reads. 

 “ Thank you for your kindness. I'm a sinner who murdered innocent people in the past. I couldn't suppress the monster in me. Only the Archbishop saved me. Of course, he was a human who makes mistakes. Even saints succumb to wealth and power. But at least I can live as myself and that's a huge blessing... So yes, I believe that he was a saint. Now you opened the second path. Thank you for letting me live as a human, not a monster.

Farewell

Cecile” 

Sinner…mistakes…to live as a human…

Concepts unfamiliar to a puppet who has only been active for about a little over a day now. He would like to learn what exactly they mean. Along with the note, there was a record enclosed in the envelope. 

New music to play. He’s been excited to hear more ever since listening to “Feel”. Whenever he would briefly return to the Hotel, he’d play it on the gramophone. A comforting song and wonderful to the ear, but he wanted more. He’s discovered that at some point, it becomes monotonous to listen to the same song, whether or not it is beautiful. 

__

“...my only wish is that you stay a good boy. No resentment, no lies.”

Good boy…no lies

What does that even mean, Pinnocchio wonders, as he leaves Geppetto’s office and walks down stairs. His father’s words repeat continuously in his head until he prepares the gramophone to play the new record he had gained. 

He remembers the steps to make the device play and repeats them perfectly. Now to let the record spin…

The music plays, softly starting with a guitar strumming in the background. P waits for a voice to sing but is instead met with a violin, making up the melody of the song. He continues to wait for a voice but a new instrument takes up the melody instead. 

“Where’s the singing?” the puppet boy wonders out loud. 

“Not all music has singing in it,” answers Sophia, as she walks up from behind. “Sounds like this song is just an instrumental.”

So this music simply has no voice to go along with it? At first, P didn’t know what to make of it. He thought “Feel” was beautiful because of the singer. Still, he tries to listen to this song closely, learn every note and sound that comes from it. The more he listens, the more he picks up on a new layer of instruments. 

The way they overlap, combine, mix, harmonize. 

The way they just work together to create a pleasant tune. 

Perhaps that alone is enough to make it beautiful.

At some point, the record begins to repeat itself, but P doesn’t mind. Since there’s no singing, maybe it’s good to just let it keep playing, allow the instruments to continue their melody. 

“Sophia,” says P, getting the attention of the blue-haired woman. “Back at the cathedral, I met someone who followed the Archbishop.”

“Andreus?” Sophia asks, to which P nods. 

“Andreus turned into a monster, but the person I met said that he was a saint, someone who is good. So, why is a monster good?”

“Well, before Andreus became the creature you had encountered, I hear he reached out with a kind hand to any who needed help. Whether or not they were deemed sinners, he gave them a chance to redeem themselves. That is why so many took refuge at St. Frangelico’s. The people who tried to hide there knew they’d be safe, for the Archbishop was one of the kindest people on the outskirts of Krat.”

I’m a sinner who murdered people in the past.

To murder, to kill. To kill those who don’t deserve it. So, Cecile was bad…but she seemed alright when he met her. 

Only the Archbishop saved me. Of course, he was a human who makes mistakes. 

So then, he was good…but also wasn’t in other ways?

“So, to be good is to be like Andreus?” P asks, but Sophia shakes her head. 

“To be good is to act out of the goodness of your heart. People do acts of kindness in different ways. There’s no one way to be good. Andreus was a good man…but something happened to him that made him the way you saw him: a monster.” 

“And…is that what made him bad?”

“We as humans all make mistakes. We’re all guilty of a sin, even the smallest ones. But those who don’t acknowledge their actions as sins, those who commit the greatest ones with no remorse…those are the bad…no, the evil. But in the case of Andreus, I’ll have to be honest that I’m not too sure about what he is.”

The greatest of the bad are considered evil. The greatest of the good are considered saints. So then…

“Think of it like this, Dear Pinocchio,” Antonia says, joining the conversation as she approaches on her wheelchair. “What do you think the residents of Hotel Krat are? Good or bad?”

The answer comes to P quickly.

“Good,” he says. “You help me and treat me kindly, even though I am a puppet. None of you have done anything bad.”

“I’m glad you think of us that way,” replies the old woman with a faint smile. “And what about you, Pinocchio? What do you think you are?”

The answer doesn’t come as quickly as the answer to the previous question. 

Good boy…no lies

The current loop of the song ends by the time he comes up with his answer.

“I…don’t know.”

__

P immediately left for his room as soon as the conversation with Sophia and Antonia had ended. The words of his father became louder ever since he talked with them. Looking at the clock hanging in the corner of his room, he reads it to find that it is a little past 1:00 am. He turns to the currently deactivated Monad Lamp, and then wonders if Gemini would mind being awakened at this hour. However, debating with himself for too long won’t do him any good. 

“Gemini,” P mumbles, and despite his quiet voice, the lamp springs to life again. Its soft green light covers the entire bed. 

“Huh? Oh! Hey, P! It’s a little late, isn’t it?”

“Sorry. I just…want to ask something.”

“Oh? What’s up?”

“What…do you think I am?”

Gemini’s light blinks, buzzing. 

“I’m not sure what you mean, Pal.”

“Um…do you think I’m good or bad?”

“Now, why would you ask me that?”

“Because…”

No lies 

“...I lie.”

The lamp chirps with inquiry. 

“Father wants me to be a good boy who doesn’t lie. But, I’ve lied. So, am I bad?”

Suddenly, the lamp blinks rapidly, but eventually settles into a bright green glow. 

“What? No way! I think you’re great!”

“But…I’ve lied.”

“Well, yeah. But the lies Geppetto was referring to are different from the kind of lies you tell. Think really hard about what he said. What else did he say?”

P does as Gemini says and tries to focus on reflecting back to the conversation he had with his father. He remembers the dreariness of his father as he recalled how the Stalkers blamed him for starting this age of disaster that everyone lives in now. He remembers the hint of spite in his voice as he recalled how he was blamed for working with Alchemists, when he never took action in the first place. 

He remembers…

No resentment

“No resentment…” P repeats. 

“Exactly! Remember when you lied to that woman about her baby? Remember why you lied?”

“I thought…she would be happier not knowing the truth.”

“And you were right. If she is still alive, she at least has that doll to comfort her. And, if she isn’t, well, you get the picture.”

Right, he did make her happier. Who knows what would’ve happened if she did hear the truth.

“You’ve heard it from Sophia, and now you’re gonna hear it from me,” chirps Gemini, his light dimming to be more comforting. “Your lies are what make you special. They’re the kind that help people. As long as you don’t lie maliciously, I think you’re a pretty good guy.”

The puppet boy contemplates the lamp’s words and reflects the words of his father at the same time. To be a good boy may be to not lie. However, he is not a bad person if he hasn’t hurt anyone yet. He can even say for sure to himself that he is no monster like Andreus. 

He nods to Gemini, now a little more sure of what he is. 

“Thank you, Gemini,” he says. 

“Anytime, Pal!” Gemini exclaims happily, before his light dims completely off. 

P lies back down on his bed, staring up to the ceiling. A crooked chandelier stares back. Before deactivating and falling asleep, he tries to remember the melody of the new record. He hums what he thinks was the violin’s part of the beginning of the song and recalls how it soon became a new instrument. He’s not quite sure what that one is yet, but he’ll learn eventually. 

A woman…a nun, trembling in the corner of the room, hiding herself away from the terrors the cathedral had become. She soon braves her fear, escaping to live a new life. A man…a saint, a monster, damning the ones who gave rise to these cursed times. He damns the monstrous form he had transformed into. He wishes for the times of before.

His humming comes to a halt as he remembers Andreus’s final words. With a slight wonder of what the times of before were like, he deactivates, drifting into sleep.

Chapter Text

Through the smoke, P sees the other siblings taking the deceased Eldest Brother away. However, one member of the Black Rabbit Brotherhood remains. 

The Brother with a red scarf looks towards Pinocchio with a hand on his eldest brother’s sword. Though P cannot see the Brother’s face, for his mask hides it, the puppet boy can sense a deep intensity coming from the glare that must be underneath that mask. After a few excruciating seconds, the Brother finally takes his eldest brother’s sword and walks away to meet with his other siblings, wherever it is they have walked away towards. 

“Damn you…” the Brother says, his voice strained. “You’ll pay for that.”

This is the second human P has killed. He doesn’t count those who had been turned by the petrification disease. They don’t spill red when they die, so they’re not human. 

Puppets completely explode upon being destroyed. The monsters squirm and writhe as their lives end. Humans hold their wounds, trying to keep them closed. However, they soon fall, succumbing to the pain to eventually be released from it. Pinocchio can feel the difference between killing every single one, and it’s starting to become unpleasant. 

“Whoa!” a voice from behind him exclaims. 

Pinocchio turns around to find a merchant clapping his hands ecstatically, his eyes wide showing his smile despite his mouth covered by bandages. 

“You defeated the Black Rabbit Brotherhood!” the merchant yells, raising his hands up. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t think you had it in you, but you sure proved me and the Brotherhood themselves wrong!”

P stares at the merchant, tilting his head at his appearance. 

“Ah, not much of a talker? That’s okay, I don’t really care. Tell you what! As the liberator of the Malum District, you can take a look at my wares. I’ve got some…extra special materials I guarantee no one else has got.”

Although P finds the statement to be dubious, he examines what the merchant has to offer anyways. He is running a bit low on items. Looking through what’s on stock, P has to admit that this merchant does have some handy things on hand, such as shot puts and canisters. However, there’s one particular item that catches P’s eyes immediately. 

He picks up the record, examining its condition. It looks to be playable. 

“Ah, interested in the really exclusive stuff,” the merchant comments, grabbing the record out of P’s hand. “Nowadays, this is rare to come by. You understand what I’m saying don’t you?”

Though frustrated, P understands there has to be some large price to pay for this piece of music. However, that won’t stop him from getting his hands on it. 

“But…since you did get the Rabbits off of my ass, I’ll give you a discount. 3800 ergo is the lowest price I can offer!”

“3800? That’s still a little pricey,” Gemini comments. 

“Oh? A monad lamp? Hey, I’ll trade you the lamp for the record for free if that’s more convenient!”

The lamp’s usual green light suddenly becomes a bright red, followed up with a string of irritated chirps.

“Hey! I may be priceless, but there’s no way I’m even allowing you to put your hands on me!”

P rolls his eyes at the lamp’s protests. Gemini has no need to worry as the puppet boy searches his coat for some spare ergo crystals. After a few minutes, he holds a palm full of ergo out to the merchant. 

“It’s a deal,” he says. 

__

There’s a lot P wishes to discuss with his father. What he found in the Brotherhood’s hideout is both intriguing and concerning for him. However, that can wait for the morning. He doesn’t wish to think about that now. Right now, he wants to start up the gramophone and listen to the new record. As he prepares the device, a certain wealthy Krat citizen approaches the puppet boy from behind. 

“Pinocchio, if you don’t mind could I ask something-” Venigni begins to say but is soon interrupted by the grand strings that begin the song. 

Just by hearing the first few seconds, P could tell that this would be a different kind of music than what he’s heard before. With such strong strings, it feels more…exciting than either “Feel” or “Divine Service”. An accordion follows the steps of the strings and a subtle bell finishes the intro. Then…

Les flocons de neige qui brillent dans le ciel nocturne me réconfortent.

Such a passionate voice, such energy behind the words. It’s much more…joyful compared to the singer of “Feel”. Whereas “Feel” had a singer who was comforting and soothing her listeners, the singer of this record putting so much into his voice, it’s as if he is longing for someone. 

Le moment de te rencontrer maintenant.

“‘Écoute mon coeur, ou es-tu maintenant?’!” the proud, boisterous voice of Venigni sings, joining the singer of the song. 

P looks towards the inventor, tilting his head and examining him. As Venigni sings, he is also waving his arms and stepping back and forth in a disarraying manner. His movements, theatrical, match the pace of the song. Whatever it is that he is doing, P could tell that Venigni is enjoying the music. 

“You’ve heard this before?” P asks Venigni, who turns towards him with open arms and a big smile. 

“My boy! This is one of my favorites!” he exclaims. “I can’t believe you’ve even found a record of it! ‘Je t'attend depuis longtemps.’” 

As the song enters its break, where the percussion begins to pick up and some strings start to harmonize, Venigni approaches P with swaying arms and playful steps. At first, P thinks that this is just part of how the inventor enjoys his music, but then he grabs his hands and, before P realizes it, is now moving along with Venigni. 

“Uh, what are you doing?” the puppet boy asks, trying to release Venigni’s hold. 

“Oh, don’t be shy,” the inventor says, with a chuckle. “Dance with me!”

A disarraying combination of motions follows, throwing P off-balance. Venigni dips and spins him, making P dizzy in a way he hasn’t before. He has dodged close-hitting attacks, spun around enemies that forced them to hit mere air. However, those movements came naturally to him. Whatever it is that Venigni is making him do…it is new and foreign, and for the first time he feels hopeless.

Occasionally, the puppet and the inventor would pass by Sophia, who lets out a giggle at the sight. 

“Sophia!” P cries. “Could you…um…”

“Could I what?” Sophia teases. 

“Help!” 

The next time P spins, he spots Eugenie, who laughs along with Sophia. 

“You got this, P!” exclaims Eugenie, who claps on beat with the music. “Be careful with him though, Master Venigni.”

“Not to worry, Lad,” Venigni says. “Just follow my lead and mimic what I do, if you can.”

To P’s relief, Venigni finally lets go of his hands. But then, the inventor continues to wave his arms and step with the music, facing P the entire time. The puppet boy is unsure of what to do at first. But, looking at Venigni’s movements, now more closely and studying them, P tries to mimic him. 

Le vent qui me caresse

As the song enters its next verse, P follows Venigni’s small on beat steps and mimics his snapping. His movements aren’t as smooth as Venigni’s, as they are rather stiff. However, for someone who is learning how to ‘dance’ for the first time, he doesn’t think he’s doing terribly. He’s at least able to copy the directions and the timing of the waves or sways almost perfectly. 

__

Up from the second floor, Geppetto watches his son and Venigni amusingly. While Venigni has always been one who is enjoyable company, Geppetto will admit he hasn’t seen him this energized since coming to the hotel. His colleague has since been focused on maintaining supplies and developing more equipment for Pinocchio. 

Aside from that, Geppetto also observes Pinocchio. The boy panicked when Venigni first started dancing with him. He asked for help from Sophia and Eugenie. He exclaimed whenever he almost fell from spinning. 

Such minor actions…but such major changes. 

And now, he’s dancing on his own! 

__

It wasn’t as energetic as Venigni, but with his own air of grace he would normally portray only in battle, P performs a spin followed by a couple of steps. Venigni is left speechless, as he was not expecting the puppet boy to dance on his own accord. 

“‘Pour que tu puisses entendre ma petite voix!’” Venigni sings, along with the song. “‘Je t'attendrai…’”

The song concludes with a melancholic accordion, accompanied by a slowing string. Finally, the two instruments harmonize for a long, finishing note. 

Venigni bows to P, tipping his hat, and P does the same for him. Sophia and Eugenie clap enthusiastically, and Venigni turns over to them and bows deeper. Before P could mimic, a rather abrupt thump in his chest interrupts him. 

It’s that same beat of his heart from when he first listened to “Feel”. Strange…

“Ah, such fond memories,” says Venigni, smiling as he holds his hat to his chest. “During days where I found myself in a creative slump, that song would comfort me. Whenever I’d throw a party, I would always make sure to have it play. Such peaceful and joyous times with friends and family.”

The inventor turns to P, a hint of sadness in his eyes, although his smile remains. 

“Tell me, Pinocchio. Where did you find that record?”

“I bought it from a merchant.”

“Merchant? Huh, I didn’t think there would still be any around. How fortunate that there was someone who still held onto that record, only for you to find it.” 

The inventor sighs and places his hat back on his head, then looks towards the record fondly. 

A mother who loves her baby.

A nun who devoted herself to a saint.

A man who enjoys a song so much, he’ll sing and dance along with it. 

Where does that feeling come from, P wonders. 

__

Geppetto clears his throat, getting the attention of his son and the others on the lower floor. Then, he chuckles, as he looks towards Pinocchio. 

“You know, Son, I do believe you have some potential in dancing,” he comments. 

Pinocchio’s eye twitches, and then he lets out a huff.

“Father…” he mumbles. 

Was that…embarassment?

“Ha! Your old man is right, P,” Venigni laughs. “After a little bit of practice, I guarantee you’ll dance as well as you fight!”

“But why?”

“Uhhhh, why not?” Gemini chirps. “There’s nothing wrong with picking up a hobby. Plus, it would be pretty funny, wouldn’t it?”

“The lamp is right. There’s gotta be something you should be good at other than killing monsters and destroying puppets.”

Geppetto laughs to himself as he leaves Pinocchio and the others to their chatter. His son is growing…changing faster than he anticipated. That’s good for him. As the old man retreats back into his office, he thinks of the times before. 

He wonders if he would’ve grown to be like Pinocchio. To be so curious, so fascinating. To be able to find such joyous things in times of despair. To be able to dance. No one will ever know, but at least he can pretend that his lost child is just right down the stairs. 

__

Within his room, the puppet boy practically flops onto his bed. After his father mentioned learning how to dance, Venigni soon played the song again, this time teaching P different steps and moves one at a time. However, practice had gone for far too long, and now he is feeling more exhausted than he’s felt after fighting. 

“Ha!” Gemini exclaims from on top of the bed stand. “Venigni sure worked you back down to your springs, huh? I’ve never seen a puppet grow tired before.”

“Well, there’s a first for everything, isn’t there?” P says, groaning under a pillow. 

He shifts his body to look up to the ceiling and reflects on the past day. How did he go from plowing through the Malum District and facing the Brotherhood to being defeated by dance practice? Quite the peculiar turn of events the more he thinks about it. 

Still, even if the events are strange, he was able to get a record out of it. He does wish he was able to listen to it fully without the dancing. He wants to listen and learn all of its sounds, which instruments play at what point, when does the singing start and end. He’ll have to wait for tomorrow to do so. 

He closes his eyes, ready to embrace the rest that comes with deactivation. But then, as he turns his body on its side, he ends up facing the portrait of a boy, who looks exactly like him, that lies on the floor from across the room. 

That just reminded him that he needs to talk to his father first thing tomorrow morning.

Chapter Text

A cloudy morning. Faint tears of light flow into his room through the curtains. The light spreads just far enough to touch the portrait, a streak perfectly aligned with the figure of the boy. P stares at it, sitting criss-crossed on the floor just a few inches away. 

Gemini is right about what he said earlier. Everything, even down to the nose, looks exactly like him. Granted, the boy might be a little younger than how he looks. P doesn’t know what ‘age’ he’s supposed to be. He thinks he could pass off for someone in his late adolescence or a person just entering adulthood. Either way, there’s a striking resemblance, tipping on the edge of uncanny to P. The only one who could answer his questions is his father. 

It may be a bit too early for his father to have awoken, but it matters not. There’s a conversation to be had, and he’s been waiting patiently to speak ever since returning to the hotel for the night. Carrying the portrait in both hands, P walks out of his room and heads over to his father’s office. 

The hotel is ever quiet, devoid of any activity from its residents as they still stay within their rooms.  The only other presence P notices are the butler puppets, Polendina and Pulcinella, who are cleaning the lobby. He silently thanks them for their service. 

__

A knock on the door. 

“Father, are you awake?” asks the puppet boy. 

Some shuffling can be heard from beyond the oak doors. His father must just be waking up. He hopes he didn’t wake him too early. 

“Ah, just one moment, Son.” 

P doesn’t wait too much longer as Geppetto opens the door, his hair unruly and his glasses slightly crooked on top the tip of his nose. As he lets out a yawn, he tries to put on a polite expression for his child, although the drowsiness of just rising from his rest overthrows it. 

“Sorry. Did you need more sleep?” 

“Oh, no. Don’t worry about me. You’d rather speak to me now, wouldn’t you?”

He nods. 

“Then, why don’t you come in?”

P does so, and Geppetto closes the door, making his way to open the curtains that were blocking the windows. 

Inside Geppetto’s office, documents and other papers were sprawled across his desk or sparsely across the floor. The spare puppet parts were on display in a corner of the room, but they were in disarray. The fireplace that would normally spark is currently unlit, making the office only lit by light flowing through the windows. 

“Now, what was it that you wished to speak with me about?” Geppetto asks, taking a seat on one of the couches in the center of the room. P sits on a chair across from him.

The puppet boy gazes at the portrait, preparing the questions that he wishes to ask. Still, he hesitates for a moment. Why does he do so? A fleeting moment of fear, a rising tension in his chest. Is this…nervousness? 

“I…wanted to talk to you about this,” he says, turning the portrait over to face his father. 

Geppetto’s eyes widen, and his mouth partially falls. He takes the portrait, looking towards it gently as he touches the surface, with care so great it’s as if he were holding glass. 

“Pinocchio…where did you get this?” his father asks, his voice quiet. He’s never seen Father look so…sad? 

“Back at the Black Rabbit Brotherhood’s hideout,” P explains. “It was stored amongst their treasures. Father…what exactly is this? Is that…me?”

“It is…a memory. A memory of happier times. I thought I had lost this forever. To think the Brotherhood had kept it…but why?”

“Who is that in the portrait?”

Geppetto looks up, pained. It takes him a couple of moments to answer. 

“I know you are asking questions. But…they will have to wait.”

“Why?” 

“I…can’t. Forgive me. I’m just…not ready. Pinocchio, memories of the past are also filled with sorrow. A part of me is not quite ready to let go of it. But, if you must have an answer, then…”

His father stands up and walks towards a bare wall of his office, then hangs the portrait. 

“...when I first created you, I was…inspired by him .” 

P stares at the portrait, pondering on his father’s words. So, his appearance was simply based on this boy? It’s not a complete, full answer. He knows that Geppetto is hiding something. The tips of his fingers start to fidget, needing something to touch and relax. Not only that but his brows begin to furrow. What exactly is happening? What do humans use to describe this?

“I see…” is all he can muster in response to Geppetto’s earlier words. 

__

Rosa Isabelle Street is his next destination. After hanging the portrait, his father gave him the task of eradicating the leader of the frenzied puppets. Hiding within the Estelle Opera House is the King of Puppets, the one Geppetto believes to be the source of the frenzy. Take out the one in charge, take out the rest of the puppets. It’s a simple task. 

And yet, P feels like he’s taking on more than he would like. That portrait is the only thing he can think about. The boy in the portrait…who was he?

“Say, you doing alright, Pal?” Gemini asks, followed by a long, inquisitive chirp. “You’ve been kind of down in the dumps since we left the hotel.”

“No, I’m fine,” he says. 

It was as plain as his nose that he was lying. He can fool others so easily, but the lamp, being beside him all this time, can’t be fooled. 

“Aha, sure you are. No use lying to me, P.”

“Gemini…”

“Seriously, it’s okay to talk. You’re not going to be focused on the mission if you don’t!”

P knows that Gemini’s only trying to help. He really does. But what is talking going to do him any good? 

“You talked to Mr. Geppetto about the portrait, didn’t you?” the lamp asks, causing P to stop in his tracks. 

Well, he can’t avoid the topic now. He sighs and sits on the edge of a fountain he was passing by. Detaching the lamp from his belt, he holds it in his hands, placing it on his lap. 

“So…how’d it go?” Gemini asks, with a cheerful chirp to try and brighten the mood.

“He didn’t tell me anything,” P responds, a frown forming on his face. 

“Really?”

“He didn’t tell me what I wanted to hear.”

He pauses. Gemini waits, his glow dimming to a soft light, barely lighting the face of the puppet boy. 

“I wanted answers, but he didn’t tell me enough.”

“What do you mean?”

“All he said was that he was inspired by the boy in the portrait when creating me. But that’s not everything he has to say. I can tell that he’s hiding something from me. And...I can’t help but wonder why.”

A short string of chirps follows up as the lamp brightens a bit more. 

“Well, think of it like this, P. When you withhold information, you’re doing so to spare people’s feelings, right?”

He nods. 

“See, in other cases, people don’t share information because they’re simply…not ready.”

“But what does that mean? Father said the same thing.”

“It means that…okay. There are moments when people just need to talk and get things off of their chest in order to feel better. Like, what you’re doing with me right now!”

P tilts his head and raises an eyebrow to the lamp’s explanation. Noticing this, Gemini continues his talk. 

“Then, there are other cases where someone is troubled and maybe talking to someone will do them some good…but they’re just not quite ready to do so. Basically, people are complicated, and that includes your father. You may be wondering why he’s not saying anything, and your frustration is completely valid. In the end, though, you just gotta be patient. When he’s ready to say something, he will tell you right away.”

A part of me is not quite ready to let go of it

“...really?” P asks, both unsure and hopeful. 

“Guaranteed,” the lamp chirps, shining with a brighter light than earlier. 

He ponders Gemini’s words, taking a few moments to reflect on what was just said to him. People are complicated…he never really thought about that until now. Venigni isn’t very complicated, at least not to P. He’s what others would say ‘fun to be around’. Same goes for Eugenie, who he knows has her fondness for weapons. 

But then, he thinks about Antonia and how she’s always staring at that portrait in the library, not knowing why she does so. He thinks of Sophia and how kind she is to him, but he realizes he doesn’t know too much about her outside of her powers. Then, he thinks back to his father and the portrait. What is his connection to the boy? 

Who knows. But one thing P does know now is that people are indeed complicated. 

He nods to the lamp and sits up from the fountain.

“I think I understand now,” he says, hooking the lamp back onto his belt. “Thank you, Gemini.”

“Of course! Now, we’ve got front row tickets to the Estelle Opera House we don’t want to waste, right?”

“We had tickets?”

A sigh and a string of irritated chirps emanate from the lamp. 

“Never mind…”

Chapter Text

The lady dressed in white tumbles to the ground, clutching the wounds on her chest. Her mask, slipping from its place on her face, falls to the wet, concrete floor. Deep blue eyes glare up to Pinocchio, but her gaze is overshadowed by the twisted smile etched upon her mouth. The blood leaking from her chest begins to soak through her clothes and drips onto the concrete. 

“Ha…damn puppet,” she says, her voice a quiet whisper. “You did well.”

She coughs up red and completely falls to the ground, facing the sky. 

“Tell me, Puppet. What color are my clothes?”

A strange question to ask, P thinks. But he doesn’t say his thoughts out loud. Instead he creeps forward to look over the lady. The gleaming white that he faced in the duel is now darkened by oozing red, slowly spreading throughout the rest of her outfit. 

“Red,” he says, plain and simple, to which the lady laughs, raspy and weakly. 

“Like your favorite fruit…” she mumbles, and begins to laugh again, but P can hear the sound of faint cry within her voice. “Do you see, Sister? I kept my promise…like I said. We always…match.”

She continues to laugh, but the laughter soon devolves into desperate coughs. Agonizing seconds later, she releases her final breath, and P now stands alone in the ruined outdoor theater. The music that played throughout the battle halts, the source wherever it was now dying out. 

“You okay, P?” Gemini chirps. 

“I’m fine,” the puppet boy responds, though he tries to still his shaking hand. 

He begins to search the lady’s remains, as to ensure any materials she had doesn’t go to waste. Aside from a few consumables and a hefty amount of ergo, he spots a pouch hidden within a pocket of her coat. He takes it and inspects its contents, finding a strange round, red object. 

“What is this?” he asks out loud.

“It’s…an apple?” Gemini answers, although even he sounds confused at the object. “That’s weird. What was she carrying a fruit for?”

Fruit…P knows this to be something humans use to eat. He sees Eugenie snacking on a fruit like this one from time to time while she’s working. Though he cannot eat, a downside from being a puppet (at least in Venigni’s words), he keeps the apple on his person. One never knows when something will be useful later after all.

__

Entering Estelle Opera House, P is met with the sight of polished marble walls and floors, nothing like the murky, fiery streets outside. The King of Puppets is here, hiding and commanding the rest of the frenzied puppets outside. Wherever he is, P must find and destroy him. 

Exploring the opera house, P is met with more puppets lurking the halls and more slaughtered bodies of humans. Sights familiar to P at this point, but there is still no sign of the King. As he walks down a hallway, taking care of the puppets he comes across, his steps slow as a certain sound catches his attention. 

A voice…coming from somewhere. A hidden room perhaps? P scours the hall, searching for the source. After a few minutes, he comes across a door, hidden in a dark corner of the hall. He takes out his weapon, a rapier, and prepares to attack whatever is within the room. He creeps open the door, peeking through its crack. 

“‘Je t'ai rencontrée simplement…” 

Singing…

The sound of a woman’s soft, quivering voice is heard as he opens the door. It is not soothing like the singer of “Feel” or powerful like “Someday”. The voice is so small, so weak. She sounds like she’s on the verge of tears, as her voice croaks on some notes . P enters the room, lowering his weapon. He sees a woman, dressed in a red gown, sitting alone in a corner next to a table with a record player on top of it. She clings to the chair she sits on, leaning her neck against it. It takes her a few seconds for her to notice P standing a mere inch away from her. 

“Who are…oh,” she says, gasping, but her expression softens upon seeing P. “You’re not a puppet. What are you doing here?”

“I’m…” he stops himself from talking, unsure of how to explain himself. “I…heard you.”

“So, you came to listen to me? I’m sorry, but this cursed disease….it’s taking away my songs. Bit by bit, I can feel my voice slipping away.”

He remembers the monsters he encountered back at the cathedral. Though he is unsure of what to make of this woman, he can feel that there is something different about this woman’s infection compared to the monsters’. Her state is reminiscent of Lady Antonia, with a weakened body, unable to move from her seat. 

“I thought…I would be safe here,” the woman continues to speak, but tears begin to fall from her eyes and her throat chokes. “But now…I’ve only left my poor sister alone. I wish I could tell my dear Patricia that…I’m sorry!”

A cry escapes from her, soon followed by a cough. P steps back, startled and completely unsure of what to do. Is it possible to help her somehow? 

“My throat is so, so dry…it burns,” she says, struggling to even speak of her woes. “So…thirsty. Even a simple fruit would do. Oh, how I miss the taste of an apple.”

Apple…? He searches his pockets, reaching for the fruit he had picked up from the White Lady. Immediately upon finding it, he offers it to the woman in red. She gasps and stares at the fruit, holding her hand out so hesitantly, astonished that what she desired is right in front of her. 

“You really do have an apple…and you are giving it to me?” she asks, looking up to P with a doe-eyed glance.  The puppet boy nods, and the woman grasps the apple. 

Holding the red fruit up to her parched lips, she bites into it, slowly, with her eyes closed. Chewing, she savors its taste, and after a couple more bites, she begins to tear up again. 

“This…is the sweetest apple…I have ever had…” is all she can bear to say at the moment.

Every bite, she savored. Every bite, a tear fell. Finally, when only the core of the apple remained, she placed it onto the table and looked back towards P. 

“This place is crawling with monsters. Even if I were able to escape, I still have the Petrification Disease. I’m dead no matter what. So, Kind One, I…have a confession to say. You’re the only person I met since trapping myself here. If you are willing…would you please hear me?” 

He kneels to meet her level of sight, and nods. Though he looks towards her, she stares into space, not meeting P’s gaze. 

“Patricia…I coveted your voice…” she speaks. “If I can’t match it, even if I had to break you…Adelina Corday must have it all.”

Adelina…he’s heard that name before. 

I dedicate this performance to my sister Adelina! 

Adelina Corday…the legendary primadona! 

So, this is her: Krat’s greatest diva, and the sister of the White Lady. Something stings his chest as he recalls how his encounter with her ended. Patricia, not knowing that her sister was alive and suffering, was dedicated to her, up till her last breath. Yet, Adelina says she was jealous of her. He wonders how she would feel if she knew that Patricia died in her name. 

“Oh…Patricia. I know it was wrong. But…I still love you…”

“Adelina,” he softly says, slightly leaning towards her, “could you…sing?”

“But…my voice…it is poisoned. I can’t.”

“Please?”

It’s a selfish request. He knows that. He knows that Adelina could likely not be able to even force a note out of her voice, not if she’s been suffering from the disease long enough. Still, he wishes to hear her. To hear a beloved singer’s voice in person is something he hasn’t yet experienced. He may not get another opportunity. But, if she declines, he will not force her. 

“If I can only sing once more, then I can only sing this…” she says,with an ever so faint smile and lightly wiping the tears from her eyes. 

“‘Je t'ai rencontrée simplement…et tu n'as rien fait pour chercher à me plaire…’”

He recognizes the lyrics. He heard them play while dueling Patricia. He also heard them while slashing through the puppets on the burning street leading up to the Opera House. When he heard that song, he found it haunting as he listened to it along with the sound of clashing weapons and sparkling fire. He remembers how the song’s final note faded out as Patricia laid down dying. 

“‘Tu seras toujours mon amante…”

Adelina’s voice is quiet, almost to a faint mumble. But that is not a problem for P. He listens closely, trying to remember each lyric, each breath, each high and low. This song is meant to be a serenade, to be a reminiscence of first love. 

“Je te fuis parfois, mais je reviens quand même. C'est plus fort que moi, Je t'aime…”

Right now, he can only hear the longing for happiness. 

“You may think that I am lying when I say this…” says P, after a few moments of quiet. “...but I swear I am not. You sound…beautiful.”

She will deny it. But to him, it is true. Though there were some notes that were shaky, that did not matter. Solemness, happiness, passion, longing, heartache. A combination he would not think would sound so beautiful until listening to Adelina. 

“You…really think so?” she asks, for the first time sounding hopeful. To this, he nods, trying to put on as polite of an expression as he can muster. It is the first time he has attempted to do this. Seeing his reaction, Adelina lets out a soft chuckle.

“Thank you.”

He stands up and bows his head, then walks towards the door leading back out to the hallway. There is still the King of Puppets to take care of. After that, the rest of the puppets roaming not only in the Opera House but on the streets should be weakened. As he reaches for the door handle, a thought crosses his mind. 

“Adelina,” he says, facing towards her again. “I…I’m a stalker, sent here to eradicate the leader of the frenzied puppets.”

“W-what?” she responds, looking up to him in disbelief. 

“Once I finish the job, the other puppets in the Opera House should be disabled as well. So, after the King is defeated, I’ll come back for you.”

Adelina can only stare at P as he continues to explain. 

“I can take you to Hotel Krat. It’s a haven for other survivors. You can live there! We can help you!”

“Why?”

“Because…you can’t…shouldn’t stay here. So, please. Please stay here and wait for me to come back, okay?”

Silence. She nods. A smile forms on her face, but her eyes do not match her lips. Not noticing this, P is satisfied and starts to open up the door. 

“Wait,” she says, stopping him from leaving. “Kind one, what is your name?”

He didn’t realize he hadn’t introduced himself yet.

“Pinocchio.”

“Pinocchio…” she repeats. “Pinocchio, thank you. Good luck…and goodbye.”

He nods towards her then leaves the room, taking out his weapon as he enters the hallway once again. 

It’s just not right. She deserves better than to suffer alone like that. 

“P…” Gemini says, a melancholic chirp emanating from the lamp. 

“Yeah?” he responds, to which the lamp creates a string of chirps. 

“...actually, never mind.”

__

When he entered the main theater, P was first met with what he thinks would be called a play. He may not know much about those, but he knows for sure it wasn’t a very good one. Two puppets, one looked like him and another his father, were acting out…something. It looked a lot like his creation at first, but the puppet playing his father took out an object resembling his heart, then walked towards a different puppet. After inserting his heart into that third puppet, it stood up and posed. That would’ve been the moment P should clap, but there was nothing he found worth clapping for on that stage. 

He was soon greeted by the King, a giant puppet decorated in gold and ornaments meant to resemble armor. After adjusting his crown, he greeted him, holding his hand out to him. But P refused to return the favor, angering the King. 

Moments later, after a tormenting battle that destroyed the theater room, P thought it was over. However, the outer shell of the King, falling apart from the damage it had accumulated throughout the battle, exploded. From the flames, a figure holding a scythe stands up. It is another puppet, one that was likely hiding within the body of the King of Puppets. It has a much more human-like face, one resembling a young man. Dusty blonde hair recedes from its head. This must be the true King. He holds the scythe towards P, and the puppet boy readies his weapon again. 

A flurry of attacks from the two duelers followed. A dance of fire. The clash of scythe and rapier. A stand off. 

P̸̳̞͉̂͌͘l̵͚̗̹̿̓͜ě̵̡̬̹̼̲̍͐͛͒͂̚͜ǎ̴̭͍̯̥̹̄́š̵̛͕̎̽͋ẹ̶͓̲̣͔̞̲̏̓̍̍.̶̗̥͕̔͐͐̓͜.̴̧̨̬͂̿͋̓.̷̛̦̏͌̔͑̿̈s̶̩̗̲̀̉̓̍̕͜͝͠t̴̥̗̪̘̻̯̯̿̓̂̏͠͝á̷̡̧̛̫̱̜̥͓̈͑̃ñ̵͔̟͑̓͜d̴̥̺̩̯̿͝ ̶̧̝͓̜̘͔̊̾̈́͒̄̃͠ͅd̷̬͍̼̮͔̬͕̈́̓̄̈̀̒ǫ̸̻̿̓̓w̸̢̟̟͙̉n̴̝̺̉̏͒̈͝͝.̶͖̽̿͌̏ ̵̙̘̐͋D̸̖͎̗̲̱̮́̈̑̂̈́͋̓o̵̝͒͒̀͆̚̕͠ņ̸̼͓͋'̴̺̩̥͂̈́͌̍͆̕ͅţ̵͈̜̘͑ ̵̛̙̫̘̖͛͝ͅm̴͍̗͊̇͒͘â̸̡̟͙̞̩͜ͅk̴͔̮̱̥͝e̶̢͔̟͌ ̷̲̬͊͆͛̑̄m̵̺̫̞̠͍̲͑͆̉̅͑͛͝e̶͈͛͂͗̈ ̸̳̞̜̗̊́̽̈̐k̷̢̡̮̲͓͓̼̓i̴̫̍̾̈̿̿l̴͈̿̐̿̉̍l̶̼̓̾̉̔͂́́ ̸̡͎͆̚̕͝y̵̲̝̻̠͔̳̙̾̆̀o̸̳̼̎̐̂̌u̷̻̞͎̻̟͓͗̑̓̀͗͋̏.̶̼̑́͆̆̈́̆͋͜

He’s heard that sound before. The other puppets he’s killed have spoken that ‘language’ before. All he can hear is static noise, however. He tries to ignore it as the battle goes on.

I̴̡̯͂͑'̴͍͇̗̈̈͑͛̋̓̚l̸̡͍̤̩̭͙͍̿͛̋̎͝ĺ̵̹͓͍͎͈̂͊̔͘̚͜ ̸̨̺̱̃h̵̙̰̱͇̪̘̆̐͜á̸̢͕͎̲v̵͚̠̗̙̳͇͇̓̽̐̿e̸̖̦̍̓͆͑͗͘͝ ̸̩̳̈̉̆̈́̎̾̕t̵̩̬̀̈́͜o̴͈̼̘̖͈̔́͠ ̵̹͉͗ḵ̶͉̪̦̦̓̌̈́͐́ì̵͍͕ļ̷͉̻̓̃̓̿l̸̨̑͜ ̶̤̞̳͊̽̿̈́͆͛ỳ̴̡͈̱̎́̕͜o̶̖͋̽̚u̵̘̠͊ ̵̧̛̯͇͉̣̩̀̈́̃̇̄͘t̶̝͙̪͚̣̣̟͑̇̇̽o̶͓̬̔͛̓̍͘ ̵͍͇̺̬̓̎̓̆͂̇͋e̴̖̪͓̻̒n̴͍̜̽̓̆͘d̵̢͙͎̺̺̤̎͌͂̅ ̸̧͇̤͚̱̍̊́̿̾͗͜͝î̴͕͔̟̜͚̍͛͝ţ̶̠̰͉͉̐̇̅ͅ.̸̺͊͛ ̵̢̞̯̇D̴̨͈͙̼̼͙̋̈́̀̕͝o̶̮̦̥̮͋̐͘ͅṉ̷̢̜̥͇̮͑͐̈́̊̕ͅ'̶̻̻̭͖̼̆̃̚t̶͖̓̇̀͑̋͑͘ ̶̥͚͕̥͔͈̅̒m̷̢͕̝̮̲̕̕ả̴̺̖́̀k̶̹̪͎͛͌ę̵̛͓̲̘̊̿͐̂ ̸̺̤̫͍̆̍̔ͅm̵̨̬̝̈́͛e̶̞̬̝͙̞̰͓̋̐́.̶̟̜̯͔̪̞͈̇̊̅͌̐̅

The scythe and rapier meet. The King tries to push P down to his knees. The puppet boy will not allow it to. The two fighters glare at each other. 

Push him back, P thinks to himself. Push him back! 

C̵a̷r̸l̷o̶

He pushes the King away…and freezes. Why…why could he hear him just now? Through the static, he heard an actual voice. The King notices his shock and lowers the scythe. He holds a hand out to P.

C̵o̵m̶e̸ ̷b̷a̷c̴k̴ ̸t̴o̸ ̵m̵e̴.̶.̸.̷

That voice…it sounds familiar. 

He stands frozen in the middle of the burning theater. Something stops him from charging towards him. He needs to finish it all…but he can’t. He steps, slowly. The King glances towards him, desperately, waiting for him to take his hand. He will…

“P!” the chirps of Gemini exclaim. “P! Snap out of it!”

He approaches the King. Inches away, he stares. They both do. 

Sparks. A scream. A rapier, pierced through the heart of the King. P pulls the rapier out, causing the King to fall over. He still holds his hand out, reaching for P’s face. Then, the life in his eyes fade. 

“You…you did it!” Gemini exclaims. “You defeated the King!”

‘Come back to me…’

He was sent here to be rid of the King. This is a victory that allows for a step closer to ending this age of hopelessness and terror. So, why doesn’t he feel…anything?

A faint light glistens from the King's body. P observes it, wondering what it could be. Hidden within the King's chest plate is some sort of emblem. It's stuck in its place. After a few attempts of trying to pull it out, P successfully releases it. It's not just an emblem. It's a whole necklace. The emblem is shaped like a ship's anchor, and in the center is a circular gem with the letter M engraved in it. Scribbled around the M is some writing.

'To Romeo, Your Friend C'

Romeo...he's never met someone of that name. Yet, something bugs him. Why does it sound familiar? He places the necklace in his pocket. It wouldn't be good to throw something like that away.

Wait…he defeated the King. He turns back to the entrance of the theater and runs out. 

“P?” Gemini asks. “What are you doing? We need to see what’s happened to the puppets outside.”

“That can wait,” is all P responds with. 

__

“Adelina!” he exclaims, rushing into the room where the woman in red should be. 

No response. 

‘Je t'ai rencontrée simplement.’

The staticy voice of Adelina plays from a gramophone perched on a table in the center of the room. He looks towards the chair she was sitting on. Empty. He looks down.

Lying on the floor is Adelina, skin pale and eyes closed. A note is held in her hand. He picks it up.

“Kind one, Pinocchio, 

I am sorry. As soon as you left, I could feel my life draining away. My disease was already in its last stages. However, thanks to you, I did not die with a heavy heart. You witnessed my final performance, and I could not ask for a better audience.

Take the record I have left for you. It is a version of ‘Fascination’ that has not been heard by anyone else. I was saving it for someone dear to me, but I don’t even know if he is still alive. You deserve it now. 

Best wishes

Adelina”

He places the note in the pocket of his coat. He finds the record Adelina was referring to beside the gramophone. 

“‘C'est plus fort que moi, Je t'aime’”

The current playing song ends, but soon starts to loop back to the beginning. He stares at the deceased woman.

“She’s…gone?” he asks out loud, despite already knowing the answer.

“This is what happens to those infected with the disease,” Gemini explains. “They turn cold, almost as if turned to stone. And just like stone, they become lifeless.”

After taking the gifted record, he prays. Wherever she’s gone, he hopes it is to heaven. Leaving the room and back into the hallway, he makes his way outside the Estelle Opera House.

“You okay, P?” chirps Gemini.

For once, he does not lie.

“No.”

__

Returning to the hotel, the first thing P does is prepare the gramophone. He had run into his father on the way in. He sounded like he had another assignment to give him, but P is just not interested in the moment. He’ll talk to his father later. 

The gramophone is ready seconds later, and P places the record on its spinning disk. The song starts with strings and an accompanying piano. Soon, a somber violin follows, playing an instantly recognizable motif. 

Adelina had sung that melody. 

An accordion, a piano, another set of strings. The song moves on from its intro and the violin from earlier continues playing what would be the lyrics of ‘Fascination’. 

The rest of the hotel’s residents come out to the lobby as they pick up on the notes of ‘Fascination’. With no singer to portray its lyrics, it makes its listeners more focused on the instruments themselves. Without the voice of Adelina Corday, it’s as if the violin is trying to convey or mimic the real passion she would’ve given. 

“I’ve never heard this version before,” Eugenie remarks, in awe of what she is hearing right now. 

“Neither have I,” Venigni comments. “It is so…sad, to put it simply. Nothing like the lovely serenade everyone else has heard.”

“‘...rencontrée simplement.’” 

Someone begins to sing along with the song, giving it its missing voice. Everyone looks towards the source. The one who is singing…

“‘Je t'aime pourtant. D'un amour ardent.’”

…is Pinocchio. Matching the yearning and ardor Adelina portrayed in the original version of the song, but combining it with an overpowering sadness, the puppet boy sings. 

“‘Tu seras toujours mon amour.’”

Eugenie and Venigni stare in awe. Antonia admires the boy, impressed with how unexpected his talent is shown to be. Alidoro, watching from a corner of the lobby, watches the scene with intrigue. The puppet butlers had paused in their duties to watch the performance before them. Sophia, sensing an ever developing change within him, can only gaze with captivation. Finally, Geppetto, standing only a foot away, could not believe the sight before him. 

“...comme au bonheur suprême.”

He stops, letting the music continue for a moment. He can feel the stares of the other residents upon him. But that’s not what is pausing him. In truth, even he can’t believe what he’s doing right now. 

He is singing. For the first time, he is letting his voice carry out lyrics. All thanks to Adelina. 

“‘C'est plus fort que moi, Je t'aime.”

The song finishes with a piano solo, and silence fills the entire hotel. Everyone, the audience and singer, is speechless at what had just occurred. Sophia breaks the stillness, walking towards P. He turns towards her. She smiles.

“That was wonderful,” is all she could say. 

He looks back, completely unsure of what to do. But soon, P accepts her praise, and smiles back, bowing his head. Suddenly, a gasp escapes Sophia.

“P…you’re changing,” she says. 

He tilts his head in response.

“Your hair.” 

Still confused, he feels his head. Something feels unfamiliar. Quickly glancing and pulling a few strands within his vision, he notices they are…longer.

“Your ergo…” Sophia says, closing her eyes to focus on something. “It’s become something more than a puppet. It’s almost human.”

Human? That can’t be. 

“Whoa!” Eugenie exclaims. “I think it looks good, P!”

“Well, it’s like I always say,” Venigni comments, tipping his hat. “It is good to try something new.”

They’re acting as if he meant to change his hair. He, in fact, did not, and he doesn’t know what to make of it. 

“A little more change won’t do you any harm,” Antonia remarks, then turns to face Geppetto. “But what about you, Geppetto? As his father, you must have something to say.”

Everyone looks towards the old man, who can only look at P in a way that could be described as dumbfounded. 

“Well…it’s not something I anticipated,” he says. “Don’t misunderstand me. I’m glad you are growing, changing. But I’m not sure what to make of this.”

The bells of the clock interrupt their conversation. Unexpectedly, it is now midnight.

“Ah, I think it’s best that we continue this later,” Geppetto says. “Get some rest, Son. There’s still a lot of work to be done.”

As P nods and heads upstairs, he is secretly relieved that the clock had chimed at that moment. He needs some time to himself. 

__

For the past ten minutes, Pinocchio has been doing anything but sleep. He’s been observing his new appearance within the mirror. It’s odd. From his face to the rest of his body, he looks exactly the same. And yet, the longer hair, now reaching his shoulders and perfectly framing his face, makes him look different, at least to him. Maybe it’s that he looks a little older with the hair. 

“Quite a day today, huh,” Gemini chirps. “By the way, I think you sounded amazing back there. The hair is…um…good?”

“Thanks,” P responds, rolling his eyes. “To be honest, I don’t really know what to think of it.”

“The hair? Hey, it’s not really bad! It’s just different.”

“No. I meant the singing.”

“Ohhh.”

“I felt so…light after it was over. Like I had been freed from something.”

“That’s music, Pal. It really is something special.”

He feels something release within his chest as he recalls the song and his singing. It is a simple yet pleasing feeling. It’s like he is…warm.

“I want to sing more,” he says, finally sitting on top of his bed.

“Well, as much as I would like to hear more, you need to get to bed,” the lamp responds, already dimming his light. 

“You’re right,” P says, with a light laugh and turning off the bedside light. “Good night, Gemini.”

“Night, Pal.”

 He lies down on his pillow. Still, he does not fall asleep. ‘Fascination’ and Adelina’s voice still replays in his head. The passion of the original, the somberness of her final performance, and the orchestral record that combines both of those moods. Before closing his eyes, he hums the motif again.

A lady dressed in a white suit, declaring a dedication to her sister. She falls, wearing red. A woman wearing a red gown, weeping her final tears. But, with a gift from her sister, her tears cease. With her last ounce of strength, she sings. It is a song of remembrance, of love. 

Love…he just remembered he does not know much about that, not yet anyways. He searches the pockets of his pants for a particular item. After a couple of seconds, he pulls out the ring he received from the Gentleman. 

“Please remember the love Melody and I shared. Who knows? Maybe you’ll find true love one day too.”

True love. What could that mean? Whatever it is, it will have to wait. He puts the ring on the table next to his bed, then drifts into sleep.

Chapter Text

A knock on the door, rousing Pinocchio from his rest. He gets up to meet with whoever it is that wakes him. Opening the door, he is met with Hotel Krat’s main servant. 

“Good morning, Master Pinocchio,” he greets.

“Polendina?” says P. “Did you need something?”

“Quite so. There is an urgent matter we need to discuss.”

Polendina looks right and left, checking for any presence in the hall. 

“But not here,” he continues. “Could you meet me in the garden?”

“S-sure,” P responds, nodding. 

“Good.”

The puppet butler bows his head then walks away. The whole situation is strange to P. What could Polendina want?

“Uh…something’s up with him, right?” Gemini chirps, lighting up the whole corner of the room. “What do you think is wrong?”

“Only one way to learn,” P says, starting to get ready for the day.

__

As P enters the garden, he is met with the cold wetness of falling rain. Thankfully, it is not too heavy at the moment. Polendina stands in the center of the garden. 

“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” the puppet boy questions. 

“I have a confession to make,” Polendina says. Though his pose remains static, the tone of his voice is one of solemnity, nothing like the usual polite tone he portrays when attending the front desk of the hotel. 

“I am a puppet whose ego has awakened. Like you, I am one who does not follow the Grand Covenant.”

“What? For how long?”

“We need not dwell on the details. Instead, I wish to dwell on Lady Antonia.”

Polendina’s head droops, facing the ground. 

“Lady Antonia’s sickness has gotten worse. Last night, she had a terrible coughing fit, soon after everyone else had retreated to their quarters. Eventually, she coughed up blue blood…”

Adelina’s weakened state flashes through P’s mind. If she was already in her final stages of the disease when he met her, Antonia could be rapidly approaching that.

“Seeing her suffering…it pains me. Master Pinocchio, this may sound out of the ordinary. But I am…in love with her.”

“Love?” 

There’s that word, that idea again. 

“Do you know what I mean?” Polendina asks.

“Sort of,” P responds. “It’s when…you really care for someone, right?”

He’s only heard the word a handful of times. The mother said she loved her baby. Adelina said she loved her sister. The Gentleman had mentioned he loved his Melody. But apparently, there is a difference between all of those situations. 

“Precisely,” Polendina answers. 

“But…what exactly do you mean? When you say ‘in love’, what does that mean?”

“It means that…I want to be fully dedicated to her. To be by her side.”

Polendina’s words remind him of the Gentleman. He and Melody were meant to get married, which is apparently some sort of ceremony where they swear commitment to each other to be a part of one another’s lives forever. Is that what Polendina means?

“Have you thought about telling her?” P asks. 

“No…I cannot. I’m a puppet and she’s a human. The mere possibility of us being together does not exist.”

The puppet butler looks towards P with a static expression, but the boy knows that he looks towards him with an air of resolve. 

“But that is what I wanted to speak with you about. As you are a rather unique individual, you carry a unique perspective. You are someone who is neither puppet nor human, but someone in between. So, tell me. Is it possible for a puppet and a human to fall in love?”

P can only stare as he thinks of an answer. In the silence, Polendina asks another question.

“Have you…ever met a puppet who loves a human?”

The cogs in his head tick and spin. An idea. 

“Wait here a moment.” 

Leaving Polendina in the garden, P rushes back to his room to retrieve the ring given to him by the Gentleman. The ring he had used to propose to his fiance, Melody. 

“She was proof that puppets have a soul. Our love would have proven to the world that puppets and humans did not have to live together as slaves and masters but as equals.”

Puppets have souls. If he is neither puppet nor human, what would he have? 

Puppets can love, but so can humans. Could he do the same? 

What would that feel like? 

__

“Here.”

P hands over the ring to Polendina, who inspects it carefully. 

“Back at Rosa Isabelle Street, I met a man who proposed to a puppet with this. They were in love. She even left a final message for him saying so.”

He repeats the same lie he had told to the Gentleman. He didn’t find any such message. For all he knows, the Gentleman could’ve been mad and proposed to a mannequin. However, does he have any right to tell such a harsh truth to a person whose feelings are true? Now that Polendina has come out and confessed about his feelings for Antonia, however, maybe there really is a possibility.

“Ah, so it does exist?” Polendina asks, happiness showing through his voice. “I fear pursuing such happiness. I don’t intend on telling her, not when she is burdened with the weight of death on her shoulders. However, I thank you for informing me of this. This is all I needed to hear. Even if you are telling me a sweet lie, I shall savor it.”

Polendina bows deeply with gratitude, and Pinocchio mirrors the action. The puppet butler makes his way inside, but P remains at a distance. 

Even if he is telling a lie…

“Polendina, do you really think I’m lying?”

He turns to face him.

“To be frank, Master Pinocchio. With you, I can never really tell.”

__

The next few hours go on without much else happening. Geppetto had given P the assignment of heading to the Grand Exhibition, the site of what would’ve been a showcase of current and future puppets. The Alchemists had taken refuge there and, even though Geppetto has a disdain for that organization, he believes that it is better to seek all the help they can afford to find a way to prevent more monsters from appearing. He’s even heard rumors of a cure for the petrification disease being developed by the Alchemists, so that’s another thing P has to look into. 

Before heading out, he checks in with Antonia. Hearing what Polendina said about her earlier, Pinocchio’s grown concerned about her well-being. He finds her in her usual spot in the library, staring at the portrait of a young woman wearing a white dress and hat. He stands beside her, waiting for him to say something to him, not wanting to disturb her peace. A few moments later, she turns towards him and smiles, although the half of her face that has turned to stone remains a frown.

“Ah, hello, my dear,” she greets. “Come closer.”

He nods and grabs a stool to sit on next to her, so that they can look at one another at the same level. 

“I heard from Polendina that things have gotten worse.”

“Oh…yes. They have.”

“Are you feeling okay now?”

“I’m doing fine at the moment. Thank you for asking.”

She returns to staring at the portrait and sighs. 

“You see, Pinocchio. At a certain age, all we humans can do is cling to the past. It’s like when we cling to a rope for dear life, but right now, all I can do is cling for those happier days. That portrait is of me when I was younger.”

She holds a hand out to the portrait, and P looks towards it as well. So, that’s Antonia when she was younger? 

“Ha…I was so feisty back then. So..fearless. I loved the world, and the world loved me back.”

She sighs.

“But those days are gone. Still, I dream that maybe one day Krat will return to a state like those days.”

“Maybe they will.”

“I hope so.”

A few seconds of silence pass. Though this would be awkward for others to sit with nothing to say, P doesn’t really mind. He likes to just be with Antonia. She appreciates the company, and he finds her to be comfortable to be around. 

“Growing up, I didn’t fear growing old. I accepted early on that that’s the way life is. You’re born, you live, and then you pass. However, what I did fear is growing into something not myself. To be…nothing like the woman in that portrait. So, tell me, Dear Pinocchio. What do you see? Is there anything left of her when you look at me?”

He glances and looks over her. Physically, the portrait and the Antonia before him couldn’t be anymore different. A face of wrinkles and scales looks towards him. Gray hair falls beside her head. She wears a dark green hat and dress. Nothing in front of him is close to being similar to the portrait. 

However, there is one thing that is the same. 

Her smile. Still so kind, still so fiery. If there had to be anything that remained from Antonia’s youth, of course it had to be her smile. 

“Of course,” he answers. 

Antonia, taken aback by his answer, couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Oh my!” she exclaims. “Did your father teach you manners as well?”

He knows it’s not the full truth, but it’s not really a lie either. He’s not sure what it would be called. Whatever it is, it made Antonia happy, like his other lies. As her laughter dies down, her smile still remains. 

“I appreciate it though. Such a kind thing to say…” 

Ticking, whispers, warmth. 

He feels all of those from within his heart. Beating…

Good or bad?...What do you think you are?

Does she think of him as good? If she does, that would be good. 

“As a puppet, you will not be able to grow old. That is both a beautiful and terrifying thing. However, as you know, you are still able to grow and change. You’ve certainly changed a lot since first coming here. Do you want to know why that is?”

Intrigued, he nods.

“It’s because you are able to make memories, and memories are a very powerful thing. I believe they are what allow everyone to live in the first place. So, as you grow up, make sure to make plenty of memories.”

Make memories…he’s made a lot so far. But something inside of P looked at the woman who sits beside him and found an admirable person before him. If he makes more, a part of P wonders if maybe he’ll be like her. 

He stands from his seat, ready to say good-bye to her. But something catches his attention: a piano, alone, a few feet away. He’s seen this instrument before. He even tapped a key or two when he first arrived at the hotel. However, now that he’s heard music, he wonders how he can make some songs out of it. 

“Interested?” Antonia asks. “That old thing hasn’t been played with since the last ball, and that was around…five years ago?”

He knows what a piano sounds like from the records he’s played. “Feel” and “Fascination” come to mind. Could it be possible for him to recreate their sounds on this instrument? He examines the keys and plays a few notes. Each one has a different sound. They can sound higher or lower depending on its place. Which sounds were played for those songs though?

“I’m sure with enough practice you’ll get better. If you’d like, I could teach all I know when you return later this evening.”

P perks up, eyes widening and smiling, when he hears that. 

“I would love that,” he says. “I should get going.”

“Go on,” Antonia waves. “Thank you for the company, as always.”

Before he leaves the library, P bows, wishing her a good day. 

“Oh, Pinocchio,” she says, stopping him from leaving still. “You are very special to Geppetto and me. Be sure to stay safe out there.”

One last bow with his head.

“Okay. I will!”

As the clouds grow darker, the wind blows stronger, and the rain falls harder, the boy leaves the comfort of Hotel Krat, heading for the Grand Exhibition.

Chapter Text

Simon Manus, leader of the Alchemists, made himself known to P after defeating the Champion Victor, a man who was transformed into a monster by the ergo experiments of the Alchemists. Manus had called Victor’s state to be a ‘cure’ and any who overcome Petrification Disease to become monsters are ‘purified’. It’s a terrible set of beliefs. 

After reporting the incident to the residents of the hotel, P learned that Manus was likely hiding out on the Alchemists’ Isle. To get there, however, P needs a special vehicle to travel, and Venigni was willing to help start it up. The only problem is that to power the vehicle, he needs a special Golden Ergo, which unfortunately is being held by a monster in the Barren Swamp. P’s not…excited to have to face another monster, to say the least. However, what needs to be done has to be done. 

Now, P is on his way to a tram that would lead him to the swamp. However, standing before him were a few familiar faces.

“Ciao, bello,” the Red Fox greets. “What a coincidence seeing you here!”

“We saw your conversation with Manus,” the Black Cat says, then groans. “Ugh, I hate Alchemists. It’s like you are talking to a brick wall whenever you speak to them.”

“Brother” the Fox, turning to the Cat, scolds. “You should say hello to our friend. I apologize for my brother. He can be a bit of a fool.”

P glares at them. He remembers what had happened back at the Malum District. Traitors…he knows it’s no coincidence that he’s meeting them here. 

“Whatever it is you want, I’m not interested,” he says, trying to walk past them. The Red Fox blocks his way. 

“Oh, don’t be like that!” she exclaims. “Is that anyway to treat a friend?”

“The Malum District says otherwise.”

“Oh, that?” the Black Cat says, then laughs. “Yeah, sorry about that! But you gotta understand! We were only trying to save ourselves! Plus…I was tired.”

“Brother…” The Red Fox looks down to the Black Cat again. Despite her having a mask, her sharp tone makes it clear that she is upset, and the Cat backs off. 

Taking the opportunity, P heads onto the tram and attempts to start it up. 

“Hey!” he hears the Fox exclaim from outside. “Please, would you help us with a favor?”

“Ugh, ignore them P,” Gemini chirps. “They’re not worth the time.”

“I know,” the boy responds. 

He remembers the steps he learned for activating the tram, and he is just about ready to head off. However, as soon as it was time to leave, the tram powered back down, unmoved from its station. P repeated the steps to activating it, but there was still no movement. Maybe the power source needs to be rebooted? 

He checks below the controls to inspect where the battery is. To his surprise, there wasn’t a battery to be seen in the first place!

“Looking for this?” he hears the Fox. 

P looks out to the stalker and sees her holding the battery in her hand, toying with it by spinning it with her fingers. He rushes outside, tries to grab it from her hold. But the Red Fox was quicker, backstepping just in time for P to almost fall to the ground. Frustratingly, her reach is just far enough that he’s just an arm's length away from teaching it. 

“Ha!” the Black Cat exclaims. “Poor puppet is too short to reach it!”

“You’re even shorter than me,” P mumbles. 

“Do that favor for us, and you can have the battery,” the Red Fox says. 

The lamp on P’s belt glows red, and irritated chirps ring from it. 

“Don’t do it, P,” Gemini says. “We can’t trust these guys!”

“I don’t think we have a choice here, Gemini,” P says, sighing. “Alright, what do you need me to do?”

“Glad you came around,” says the Red Fox, placing the battery in the hands of her brother. “Stay here. I’m going to have a talk with our friend, okay?”

“Alright, Sister!” he says, giddily. 

After guiding P a few feet away from the Cat, the Fox’s posture stiffens, and her shoulders relax. 

“Okay, let’s get down to some serious business,” she says, her tone shifting from mischievous to solemn. 

“What do you need me to do?” P asks, still slightly disgruntled. “Take down another ‘obstacle’ for your convenience?”

“Actually, it’s a very simple request. All I ask is that you give me a single gold coin fruit.”

P raises an eyebrow. How does she know about that?

“I…don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t lie to me, Puppet. I saw you visiting the Saintess of Mercy statue before coming here. You offered some fruit to it, didn’t you?”

Well…he can’t lie about that.

“What are you planning on doing with it.”

The Red Fox sighs, then she glances towards the Black Cat.

“My brother is sick. He’s inflicted with the Petrification Disease.”

P’s fingers twitch, remembering Adelina and Antonia. 

“How long?” he asks. 

“It was a recent development. I went to the Alchemists for help, but whatever medicine they gave him was not enough. Not even close to what they promised. In his current stage, he is starting to lose his sight. We can’t afford that, not in our line of work. Once he goes blind, he won’t be able to defend himself.”

“So, how is the gold coin fruit going to help with it?”

“The fruit can be used to make a cure. All I need is one, and that will be enough to save my brother.” 

Gold coin fruit can be used as a cure? A fleeting memory fades into his mind. He feels like he’s heard that before. He doesn’t dwell on it too much. He needs the battery and doing what the Red Fox wants is the only way to get it. 

“Okay, I’ll help you,” he says, to which the Red Fox gasps. 

“Really?” she says, clapping her hands together. “Oh, thank you!”

“I’ll have to go retrieve some more, however. I used up all of the ones I had on the statue.”

“Then, go. My brother will be ecstatic to hear this.”

She leaves P alone and walks back to the Black Cat. The Fox and the Cat had lied to him before. They could be lying now. However, he recalls the lies he’s told. He’s really not any better than them in that sense. The chances that the Fox is telling the truth are slim, but he still will give what she wants. He needs the battery after all. Also…

“Wait, he’ll really do it?” he hears the Black Cat say as he leaves. “Alright!”

…he feels good helping people. Lying or not, the sister is merely looking out for her brother. 

__

Returning to the Gold Coin Tree, P’s satisfied to see that the tree has already produced more fruit. Plucking the fruit from the tree, P hears footsteps from behind. He looks towards the source.

“Ah, Mister Stalker,” Giangio greets. “It’s good to see you. Didn’t expect you to return so soon, though.”

Giangio is a man sick with Petrification Disease as well. P had met him back at St. Frangelico’s Cathedral. The boy remembers now that it was him who mentioned gold coin fruit as a cure. 

“Are you well, Giangio?” he asks. 

“Oh, I’ve been doing better,” Giangio responds, but a cough quickly follows his speech. “Ah, pardon me. The fruit really has helped, but it might take a little more to fully improve my current state.”

“Would you like some more?”

“I’d appreciate it!”

P exchanges three fruits with the sickly man for another wish stone. A thought crosses his mind. If the fruit can be used to make a cure…

“Giangio, how’s the cure for the Petrification Disease really coming along?”

“Oh, going very well thanks to you! Sadly, I’ve found that it’s not a perfect solution. People who have already progressed too much will have lost organ function, and that cannot be restored. So, even if a patient is cured, they likely won’t last long afterwards. Still, it certainly won’t be as painful as petrification.”

“In that case, could you…make a cure for Lady Antonia?”

Giangio widens his eyes and attempts to gasp, but coughs escape him instead. 

“Apologies,” he says. “Uh…Lady Antonia? Her disease is nearing its last stages, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Then…are you sure? I can and will make it for you since you asked, but you have to keep in mind what I just said.”

Antonia will be cured. She won’t have to suffer anymore. Even still, how long will she last after being cured? Will she really pass in peace otherwise? Other questions pass through his head, but still this is a chance, an opportunity. In the end, he can at least allow a choice. After P insists on making the cure, Giangio agrees. 

The sickly man uses the fruit P had recently given him, and it only takes a few moments to create a cure. Giangio gives P a bottle filled with the essence of gold coin fruit. 

“The cure isn’t exactly stable. Be sure to give it to the patient as soon as possible.”

“I will. Thank you, Giangio.”

They bow their heads to one another, and P heads back downstairs to the lobby of the hotel. 

__

“What is this?” Polendina asks, inspecting the bottle P had given him. 

“A cure for the petrification disease,” he responds, to which the puppet butler looks up towards him and tilts his head. 

“Are you saying that…this will help Lady Antonia?”

“Yes, but…there’s a catch.”

“Tell me.”

“At the stage Antonia is in, she won’t last long after being cured. I don’t know how long, though. It could be moments afterwards. However, she won’t feel pain. She’ll at least die in peace.”

“I…see.”

The options are clear: a longer life with a painful death or a shorter one with a peaceful death. 

“If it were up to me,” Polendina says. “I would give it to her without hesitation. Lady Antonia deserves better than the current state she is in. But, who am I to say what is best for her? So, what would you choose?”

It’s useless to ask that question, P thinks. He’s in the same situation as Polendina. The chance is too great. However, he made the cure for Antonia. He has to stick with his choice. 

Choice…

“To be honest, for once,” P says, “I…would cure her as well. But, Polendina, neither of us really know what’s best. So, what I think you should do instead is show her the cure. Tell her what I told you. Give her the choice of taking it or not.”

Polendina stares at the cure in his hand. 

“What…if she doesn’t?”

“You love her, don’t you? If you do, I think you should support her no matter what.”

Love…is when you care about someone very, very much. That’s what he’s heard. Love is beautiful. Love is painful. So, from what P’s seen at least, the choices made through love are what really show how much one feels for another. 

“You are…right, Master Pinocchio,” Polendina says. “I’ll do as you say. Thank you, once again. No matter what happens, I will accept it.”

“Good. I suggest you take it to her now. The cure isn’t stable.”

With a nod, Polendina leaves the front desk and goes to the library, where Antonia is likely to be. As much as P wants to stay and see how it goes, he has business to attend to elsewhere.

__

“Here,” P says, showing the gold coin fruit to the Red Fox and the Black Cat. 

Ecstatic, the Fox takes the fruit from P’s hand and observes it, making sure it is the real thing. Satisfied, she nods and faces P.

“I knew you were a true friend,” she says. “So generous!”

“Yeah, you’re a good person,” the Black Cat says. “You know, I’ve liked you from the start!”

“Hush, Brother,” the Fox scolds. “My apologies on his behalf. When he gets excited, he’s a little chatty. We’re both truly grateful to you!”

“Ahem,” Gemini says. “I believe you owe us something?”

“Oh, right.”

Taking the battery out of her pocket, the Fox tosses the battery to P, who catches it easily. 

“Thanks,” he says.

“You’re heading to the Barren Swamp, aren’t you? I’d be very careful going in. There’s been sightings of a monster lurking around over there. I wouldn’t want the savior of my brother to get himself hurt…or worse.”

“I appreciate the concern.”

He makes his way over to the tram to re-install the battery. As P begins the process of starting up the tram again, the Red Fox and the Black Cat knock on the tram’s door. 

“Before you leave, we have something to give to you,” the Fox says. “Brother, care to do the honors?”

With an excited nod, the Black Cat rummages through a pack and takes out a large disk. Taking the disk and inspecting it, P’s eyes go wide as he recognizes what it is.

“A record?” 

“We had a feeling you would like it,” the Cat replies. 

“It’s a gift from the heart. We hope you enjoy that song as much as we do.” the Fox says.

With that, the tram finally begins to move and the sibling stalkers move away. As the tram leaves its station, P notices that they wave him goodbye. Before they are too far, he waves back. 

__

To put it simply, the swamp was a horrific mess. Whatever that creature he had just defeated to retrieve the golden ergo was, he prays he doesn’t face something similar to that thing ever again. He has never been so relieved to return to Hotel Kraft until now.

“Here you go,” says P, handing the golden ergo, which is covered in the muck of the Green Monster, to Venigni, who tries to hide his look of disgust.

“Ah, yes!” the inventor exclaims. “This will do nicely for a power source! I believe that vehicle should be ready by tomorrow.”

With that out of the way, P walks over to the gramophone. That record he was given by the Red Fox and Black Cat has waited patiently to be played. As he starts up the device, he wonders how the siblings would have gotten their hands on this record. Maybe they already had it on their person and it was the only valuable thing they could afford to give him. Maybe it was a song they greatly enjoyed but gave it away because they no longer had access to their own gramophone. 

However they got it, it didn’t really matter. They gave it to him, and it’s a brand new song. Soon, the gramophone is ready, and he sets the record on top to spin. 

It starts with the chords of a piano, then the sound is overlapped with the strings of violins. The melody is followed by an accordion, but in the background the piano starts to play from its lowest notes then climbs to its highest. The high notes of the accordion and piano harmonize, and the intro of the song finishes.

“If I would shed my tears, in this daunting fantasy,

Many of them call reality.”

The voice sounds familiar. He’s heard the singer somewhere else.

“If I would lose my mind, to this senselessness,

I’d seek truth in reverse side or insanity.”

He listens closely, and now he becomes sure. It’s the same singer from “Feel”. Soothing and comforting, yet melancholic and longing. Just the same as in “Feel”, to P, she sounds beautiful. 

“‘Cause I would fight, let it be cold rain. 

Be it battle I cannot survive.”

As the song enters its second half, he hears determination and hope in her voice, changed from the singer’s earlier sorrow in the song. Accompanying her lyrics are the harmonizing sounds of a violin, an accordion, and the piano. Listening closely, attempting to separate each layer of music, P focuses on the keys of the piano. 

He would like to learn them one day. But as he listens, he remembers that he wouldn’t be able to learn without his teacher. Looking towards the front desk, he sees that Polendina is missing from his usual station. He wonders how Antonia is and if she took the cure or not. The idea that her sickness became worse haunts him. 

If she took the cure, is it possible that…she’s…

“Ah, Master Pinocchio, you’ve returned,” the voice of Polendina says from aside. 

He turns to the direction of the puppet butler and any dread he felt earlier washes away when he sees the sight before him. Walking down the stairs, arms locked with Polendina, is Lady Antonia herself. As soon as they are both at the bottom of the stairwell, the elderly woman approaches P with a smile brighter than he’s ever seen. 

At first, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The scales on her face have disappeared, and she’s walking! 

“Child, I am so happy to see you,” she greets, holding both of her arms out to the boy. He accepts the embrace, then Antonia gently touches his face.

“I never got a proper look at you with the disease obscuring my vision. My word! It’s such a shame I couldn’t tell you are an absolutely handsome gentleman before!”

He’s been called attractive before by the Youngest of the Black Rabbit Brotherhood and the Red Fox. However, those times he didn’t really feel like they were saying genuine compliments, not when the former tried to kill him and the latter always sounded like she was merely teasing. But with Antonia, he felt genuinely happy hearing her. If it was possible for him to blush, he would be doing so now.

“I can’t thank you enough for this miracle.”

“All I wanted was to give you a chance,” P says. “So, I’m very happy to see you like this.”

“I’ve never felt this alive in so long. You know, the next time Krat has a ball, I hope you’ll ask me for a dance!”

To his surprise, Antonia takes him by the hands then steps with the music. Like with Venigni, P’s been captured by a dance. However, this time, it is slower, more graceful. Maybe it is because Antonia is much older than Venigni, but P doesn’t think that is the only reason. There are no complicated combinations of spins or twirls in this dance. Instead, it is more like making a shape, more specifically a circle, with the movements of the steps. He thinks he prefers this style of dance more than whatever it was Venigni had taught him. 

“Every inch I march,

Towards the fatal sight, against the winds,

 Against the lights, I shall conquer thine.”

From the crescendo he hears, P can tell that the song is near its end. After the singer’s lyrics have ended, the piano and violin play their final pieces, and the song finishes with the fading piano. Antonia parts from P, curtsying. Following the lesson of courtesy Venigni taught him along with his dance, P bows with both his head and back, deeply until he faces the ground. When he looks up, he sees Antonia hold her head with her hand and walk over towards Polendina. The puppet butler unfolds the wheelchair P always saw her sitting in, and Antonia returns to it as soon as it is ready. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, worried.

“Oh, don’t worry,” she says, waving him off. “I’m only a little light headed from taking the cure.”

“I encourage you take care when performing vigorous activities, Lady Antonia,” Polendina remarks. 

“Thank you for the concern, Polendina. Now, Pinocchio, why don’t you turn in for the evening?  You must be exhausted from today’s events. We can continue our lessons in the morning.”

Hearing that, P nods and heads up to his room. As he does so, he looks back down towards Antonia. She is conversing with Polendina about something. 

I was so feisty back then. So…fearless. 

Maybe she can be that again, P thinks. 

__

Within his room, P is trying to mimic the movements of the dance Antonia had just shown him. Of course, it’s a little awkward practicing without a partner, but he can at least try to remember what it’s like. 

“Man, it’s great seeing Antonia back on her feet, huh,” Gemini chirps. “I’m glad everything worked out!”

“Me too. She looks much happier now, and that makes me happy.”

“That’s good!”

During his practice, P ends up stepping into the foot of a table. While he doesn’t feel pain from the impact, it is still an interruption, and for that he groans in annoyance. 

“Say, P. Aren’t you still worried about Antonia?”

He looks towards the lamp that sits on the nightstand. His mood darkens as he is reminded of what Gemini is referring to.

“I’d rather not think about it.”

“Sorry. It’s just…who knows how much longer she’s going to last.”

Possibilities run through P’s mind. She could be gone tomorrow or the day after. She also could be gone next week or the end of the month. Wishful thinking invades his mind as he wonders if maybe she will stay until next month. He wonders what it will be like when she’s gone. However, those thoughts make his heart heavy. He doesn’t enjoy that feeling.

“I…don’t want her to go,” he says. 

The lamp’s glow becomes a shade of green between light and dark. Sad chirps emit, but they soon become more optimistic. 

“Yeah. But you know what? You just gotta make the most of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“No one knows when she’ll go. However, we shouldn’t dwell on that. Just enjoy the time that you spend with her, be happy that she is here right now. Remember what she said about making memories?”

He nods.

“Then make them with her whenever you can! That way she stays with you, even when she has passed.”

Memories are a powerful thing. They are what allow everyone to live in the first place.

He connects what Gemini says back to the words of Antonia. He feels he understands a little more of what exactly that power she was referring to was. He goes to sleep, pushing away the thoughts of Antonia’s time. 

Instead, he thinks of what she will teach him about the piano in the morning.

Chapter Text

Chords of a piano being played simultaneously. A pause in between each sound. All throughout the hotel during a cloudy morning, that is what the residents of the hotel had been hearing. As they got out of bed and went on to do the day’s usual activities, they heard Pinocchio’s practicing of the black and white instrument. 

Some notes were choppy. Some notes were smooth. Sometimes there were hesitations when practicing scales. Sometimes the same exercise would be repeated over and over until done right. Often, it was awkward or grating to overhear. Occasionally, it was impressive and pleasant to hear the improvement. 

Within the library itself, Antonia would sit beside P on the piano bench, guiding his fingers across the keyboard. For some exercises, she would play it herself and allow the boy to try mimicking her. But the boy learns impressively quickly, likely from the adaptive behavior he was originally programmed with. Throughout the morning, from sunrise to nearly midday, he was eventually able to play chords with the correct keys and was even able to tell the difference between the major and minor scales. 

“You’re making excellent progress, my dear,” Antonia compliments after P had completed another exercise. “At this rate, we can start learning your first song.”

“Could we learn ‘Feel’?” he asks enthusiastically.

“Of course! Eventually. Although, it might prove a little difficult without a piece of sheet music.”

That was a satisfactory enough answer for P. The peacefulness of the morning would rapidly dissipate, however. 

A sudden shake of the earth puts the hotel in disarray. P falls forward, catching himself on the keyboard making a dreadfully off-tune chord. He notices Antonia fall from her seat and onto the ground and can hear multiple books falling around the library. The tremors continue for a short but dreadful couple of seconds. Once the ground finishes their tremors, P immediately helps Antonia up from the ground and back into her wheelchair.

“Are you okay?” he asks, looking over her to check for any injuries. Fortunately, none could be found.

“I’m alright,” Antonia responds, exasperated. “What in the world was that?”

P leaves the library in a rush to see if the other residents weren’t injured. Entering the lobby, P sees Polendina in the process of reorganizing any fallen objects or pieces of furniture. Pulcinella is helping Venigni back on his feet, while Eugenie stands from her position of hiding beneath her workbench. Alidoro and the newest visitor of the hotel Belle make their way downstairs, noticeably anxious from the recent event. Soon following them was Gepetto. Sophia, who stands in the center of the lobby by the stargazer, is the only one who doesn’t seem to be harmed by the earthquake.

“Everyone okay?” P exclaims, glancing towards the others.

“Could be better,” Venigni says as he dusts his top hat. 

“Could also be worse,” Eugenie says, sighing and adjusting her glasses.

“What was that, though?” Belle wonders out loud. “We don’t normally get earthquakes around Krat.”

“That’s because it wasn’t an ordinary earthquake,” says Sophia. “I could feel the power it emitted. Something terrible is happening nearby.”

As the residents of Hotel Krat continue to discuss the event that had occurred, P hears an irritated string of cricket chirps come from the Monad Lamp.

“Is something wrong, Gemini?” he asks. 

“I…could feel where the disaster came from.” responds the lamp. Everyone quiets down to listen to him. “A massive eruption of ergo…and it came from Krat Central Station!”

“That’s so close from here,” Eugenie says, holding her hands together in fear. “More dangers could be approaching soon.”

“Son,” the old man, Geppetto, says, with all attention now on him, “this is no random event. The Alchemists likely have something to do with this. Heading to the Alchemist Isle will have to wait. For now, your mission for today will be to investigate the incident at Krat Central Station.”

Pinocchio nods towards his father, ready to face whatever danger awaits him. As he reaches his hand out to the Hotel Stargazer, he focuses his energy into connecting with the stargazers back at the station. However, as he tried to connect, he was only met with static. 

“That’s strange,” he mumbles. “I can’t get in contact with the station’s stargazers.”

“They must’ve been destroyed during the disaster,” Venigni comments. “I have a solution! Back at the Barren Swamp, there is a secret tunnel system that should connect back to the station.”

“Why would that be?” P wonders.

“As you saw during your excursion at the swamp, it is a dumping ground for old puppet parts. In order to transport said parts, the city built a passageway connecting back to the swamp. It was kept hidden from the public in order to prevent common folk from finding their way there.”

“Alright. I’ll make my way there then.”

“Wait,” Belle says, stopping P from connecting with the stargazer again. “If you are heading to Krat Central Station, I have a request. The last time I heard from my partner, Atkinson, he said that he was to be defending the area to escort survivors of the frenzy. So, I would like you to look for him.”

“Not to be a downer,” Alidoro comments, “but doesn’t the lad have more important things to focus on? Your partner might not even be alive over there.”

“I…I know. But even so, I would like him to at least tell me of his fate.”

P glares at the Hound. Alidoro has always been an off-putting individual, but lately he’s been hearing some rude remarks from him, especially regarding Eugenie. If he was allowed to, the boy would push him out of the hotel. However, Alidoro’s proven to be useful, as he equips P with rare weapons, and no one can afford to compromise another during this time of dread. 

“Don’t worry, Belle,” he says. “I’ll try to find whatever may remain of Atkinson.”

The woman sighs in relief and nods her head towards him.

“Thank you so much,” she says. 

With that, Pinocchio reaches out to the Hotel Stargazer and teleports to the Barren Swamp. 

__

Krat Central Station, although not in the best condition back when P first woke up, is now a dark maze filled with fog. Monsters of all kinds that he’s come across also lurk the area, keeping him on his toes as he traverses the station. He searches a few train cars to find any clues as to what happened here, but has yet to find anything of relevance. As he continues exploring the ruined train station, a sound, a grunt, catches P’s attention. Someone is nearby.

He follows it, trying to discover the source, with a weapon at the ready. Eventually, he is led to another train car with a dim light source shining through its entrance. Inside, P notices a shadow in the corner of the car, wobbling like it were to fall over at any moment. P recognizes it as a monster, another person transformed by the petrification disease. He sneaks up on it, aiming to kill it quietly as it doesn’t notice his presence. But, at the very last moment, the monster turns around to face him. P readies for a swift and short battle.

“Wait!” a voice exclaims, and the monster raises its arms up. 

P lowers his weapon, confused at what he is seeing before him. 

“I-I’m not one of them,” the creature says. 

The boy becomes even more bewildered. This monster…no, person still has a conscience. 

“Who are you then?” P asks. 

“My name is Atkinson,” the infected man says, his voice hoarse. “I serve the…Krat Militia. And you?”

“Pinocchio. I’m a stalker.”

He’s gotten used to telling that lie whenever he meets another person. At least, another person who doesn’t already know he’s Geppetto’s Puppet. 

“Well, Kid. You’re a little late to the party.”

Atkinson tries to explain further but is interrupted by a strew of coughs. P readies his weapon, prepared for a fight with a newly made monster. However, as the coughs die down, the man presents no further hostility. 

“How long have you been infected?” P asks. “Everyone else I’ve seen in your state has only been a monster.”

“I…don’t know. Could’ve been days, weeks. The last thing I remember before waking up like this…were screams.”

“The people you were defending…if there were any survivors, they didn’t last long.”

“Oh, I already know. The suburbs were sealed off. No train was getting in or out of the city, whether or not they had civilians. Next thing that happened, someone had cut off all communication. We couldn’t even get help…”

Alchemists. They must’ve had something to do with all of this. Trapping innocents so that they could turn them into monsters. That has to be it. Hearing that, a tension in P’s heart builds. A feeling that causes him to scowl and clench his fist instinctively. 

“Before the comms went out, I was trying to…get in contact with my partner. The last time I saw her, she was visiting the Grand Exhibition.”

“Belle…” P mumbles. Hearing that name, Atkinson holds his head up, with a faint light shining in his faded eyes. 

“You know her?”

“She’s hiding out at Hotel Krat with other survivors.”

“So, she’s-”

A string of coughs interrupts Atkinson’s speech, but P knows what he would have said.

“She’s safe,” the boy answers. 

Despite his face having been deformed by the infection, Atkinson’s expression perks into something P recognizes as a smile. It is one of relief and hope. But soon afterwards, Atkinson limps forward and more coughs escape from him. This time,however, they are also accompanied by pained groans.

“I wish…I could see her,” he says, his voice fading. “Kid, if you see her again, tell her that…Atkinson died…a soldier.”

He reaches for the pockets in his coat and slowly takes out a letter, its message written on a crude piece of paper. P takes it, briefly looking over its contents. These words are meant for Belle. He looks back up towards Atkinson, who is now hunched over from the pain of the infection. 

“Don’t worry,” says P, placing the message safely in the pocket of his coat. “I’ll make sure your words are delivered.”

“Thank you…Pinocchio, was it?” Atkinson asks, to which P nods. The infected man glances towards him, the last remaining glimpses of humanity fading. 

They plead, beg. They ask for mercy, freedom. 

A distorted yell, a viscous swipe, a rapier drawn, then followed by a pierced heart. 

__

Krat lies in ruin. It was soon discovered by P that the earthquake was more so an eruption of ergo crystals from the ground. Along with the eruption, more monsters roam the streets, and they’ve rapidly evolved to be able to possess the remains of old puppets he’s destroyed. They’ve become like the monster of the Barren Swamp. At some point, he even found himself face to face with the Alchemists themselves, but these people had been mutated by their experiments. While fighting them, P wondered. Is this the state Simon Manus wants for all of humanity in the world he is striving for?

It looks so…deformed and ugly. P wouldn’t even call what he came across as ‘humanity’ anymore. 

But he can worry about that later. 

“Clever one…the hotel is under attack.”

When he tried to teleport back to the hotel through another stargazer, there was no connection. He was still a ways away from the hotel. A pounding tension beats from within his chest. He feels…anxious, worried, all sorts of emotions that make him want to just…run. 

Sophia, Eugenie, Venigni, Antonia, Polendina, Pulcinella, and his father…

If anything happened to them…

Tell her that…Atkinson died…a soldier.

He still has a message to deliver, and he won’t let that man’s words be unheard. 

__

Opening the doors that lead into Hotel Krat’s lobby, as he enters, P looks in despair at the chaotic scene he is welcomed to. The entire lobby is decimated, with furniture tipped over and graffiti, depicting what he recognizes as the Black Rabbit Brotherhood’s symbol, branded along the walls. The portrait of Lady Antonia in the library has been defaced, with crude red antlers painted over her face. Hanging above the stargazer is a sign that reads ‘Hypocrite’. P scowls at the sight.

“Clever one…” he hears Sophia from behind. He faces her, and miraculously she seems unharmed. 

P walks to her, embracing her form, and the blue-haired lady returns the gesture. 

“I was…worried,” he mumbles. 

“So was I,” she says, then releases herself from P’s arms in order, looking over his face and body. “When my voice stopped reaching you, I feared the worst. But, you are unharmed?”

“Yes, I’m fine. But, Sophia, what happened here? Where are the others?”

“Stalkers allied with the Alchemists…they came without warning. It was the Brotherhood, Fox, and Cat.”

“The monsters back at the station and the earthquake…I think that was a part of their plan. It was all a distraction so that they could keep me away from the Hotel.”

“I fear you are correct. The others managed to hide themselves upstairs. Please check to make sure they are okay.”

“I will. What about you? Did they really not do anything to you?”

“Don’t worry about me. I was…able to hide myself easily.”

He’s not too sure how Sophia was able to do so, but he doesn’t question her further. He needs to make sure everyone else is safe. Running upstairs, he checks every room to see if anyone is hiding in them. But he is not met with anyone everytime he checks. The only place left to look is his father’s office. As he tries to enter, he finds that the door is locked.

“W-who’s there?” Eugenie’s voice calls from behind. 

“Eugenie! It’s me.”

“P? Wait…is there anyone else out there?”

“No, they’ve all gone.”

“O-okay! Hold on.”

He hears shuffling, then moments later, Eugenie peeks through the now unlocked doors. P enters and is immediately welcomed by a hug from Eugenie. 

“Boy, am I glad to see you,” she says, her voice shaken. P returns the hug and looks around the office to see everyone he was worried about safe and sound.

Venigni and Pulcinella were in the middle of conversing with one another before P arrived. Antonia and Polendina were together in a corner of the office. Belle was by herself sitting on a couch. However, there was a glaring absence among the surviving residents. 

“Where is Geppetto?” P asks. 

“I’m sorry, Child,” Antonia says, her face dim and her voice weary. “During the attack, Geppetto was kidnapped.”

“Who knows why they’ve taken him,” Venigni comments. “They could simply be holding him for ransom. Or maybe they’re just really looking forward to seeing you, P.”

A snap. He clenches his fist and turns, proceeding to walk back out of the office.

“I’m going to look for him,” he says.

“Pinocchio,” says Antonia, stern. “This is exactly what the Alchemists want you to do. They want you to act with poor judgment, putting yourself in danger. However, though it pains me to say this, you first must rest here at the hotel and prepare for what is to come next.”

After what he’s seen today, waiting doesn’t and shouldn’t feel like an option P has to acknowledge. He nevertheless lets out a sigh, returning to face everyone.

“You’re…right,” is all he can manage to say. “But how did this even happen in the first place?”

“It was the damn Hound,” Belle hisses. “I saw him leave the hotel just before the attack hit.”

“Alidoro?” Eugenie exclaims. “No, you can’t be serious. He wouldn’t do such a thing!”

“Explain why he’s not with us right now then. If they didn’t happen to kill him before raiding the lobby, then it was him that informed the enemy.”

Hearing that, Eugenie backs down, holding her arm as she looks towards the ground. P thinks over what Belle said. There really isn’t much to say about the plausibility of Alidoro working with the Alchemists. However, he’s not defend his innocence. Whether the Hound likes it or not, he’s deemed a traitor of the hotel, and P would gladly dispose of him the next time they meet if that’s the case. 

Right now, there are other matters to attend to. 

“The lobby is in disarray currently,” says P. “Would anyone like to help me clean it up?”

It’s the only thing any one of them could do at the moment. With affirmation to P’s request, the residents of Hotel Krat head downstairs.

__

“Here, let me help you out with that.”

P assists Polendina with lifting a bookcase back up on its feet. At the moment, the other residents are doing their best to tidy up the lobby. The graffiti is easy enough to wash off, but nothing can be done about some now destroyed pieces of furniture. Still, they’ve all been doing their best, and that’s the most they can do. 

“I thank you, Master Pinocchio,” Polendina replies. “You did not have to do that.”

“I don’t mind.”

In the corner of his eyes, P notices Belle picking up scrap pieces of junk left over from the attack. He reaches for the piece of paper in his pocket, then takes it out. With a deep breath to calm himself down, P walks over to the woman.

“Belle,” he says, getting her attention. “I was able to find Atkinson.”

She widens her eyes at the statement, but the rest of her face remains relatively passive.

“Go on. Tell me more.”

“When I found him, he-”

The man’s infected state flashes through his mind.

“...he was already dying. He was injured from fighting puppets.”

As he continues to speak, P notices that Belle’s expression becomes more and more weary. Her lips begin to quiver, and her eyes begin to fill with tears. 

“He wanted me to give you this.” 

The woman takes the piece of paper from P’s hands then reads over it, her eyes darting left and right as she reads. Once she reaches the bottom of the page, Belle finally gives in to her emotions and hides her face from P. Her sobs are quiet, but they are still audible enough for P to hear them, and the boy frowns as she grieves. 

“In the end, he died a soldier.”

“I…I never imagined it would end like this. He wasn’t just my partner in the militia. He was…meant to be my partner for life. I feel so…lost now.”

“His last wish was to see you. He felt the same way you do for him now. But Belle, I may not have a right to say this, but I don’t think Atkinson would want you to despair like this.”

“What else do I have to live for now that he’s gone?”

“Well…I can’t really answer that for you. But think about this: you’re a soldier. The Hotel and Krat itself, we still need people like you to help us.”

“Your father was still kidnapped during the attack. I wasn’t any help when the hotel was attacked.”

“You’re just one person, Belle. Besides, Father may have been taken, but I don’t think the others were able to stay safe because the Rabbits, Fox, and Cat decided to ignore them.”

A brief glimpse of realization shines within Belle’s eyes.

“You protected them, didn’t you?”

“You…you are right.”

Belle closes her eyes and holds Atkinson’s message to her chest, keeping it close to her heart. She sheds her final tears and wipes them away, as a small smile grows on her face.

“Thank you, Pinocchio,” she says, “for at least giving me peace of mind about Atkinson.”

She folds the message into a slip of paper to fit into her pocket, then she turns away from P. She goes over to her stash of supplies in the corner of the lobby and rummages among its contents. After a couple moments, she pulls out the recognizable shape of a record.

“You like music, right?” Belle asks, fondly looking over the disc before handing it over to the boy. “This song was what we played during our wedding. It’s the only memento I have left of him now.”

“And…you’re giving this to me?” Although P loves hearing new music, he really can’t be sure about taking this record.

“You’re a good person, P. You’ve helped me a lot these past few days. Besides, although this was me and my husband’s melody, it is one that we both agreed should be shared with everyone.”

“I see.” He bows his head as a sign of gratitude. “Thank you for giving me something so valuable to you.”

P immediately goes to get the gramophone and prepares the steps to let the music play. As he does so, the other residents of the hotel notice his actions and stop whatever they were doing to clean the lobby. After the events of today, a new piece of music would be a welcome change, as to help relieve themselves of the stress caused by the attack. Seconds later, the record now begins to spin. 

An overwhelmingly somber piano opens up the song as it is accompanied by a violin. Already, even though it is only the opening notes of the song, P is enchanted by what he hears. By instinct, he begins to lift his arms like he is being tugged by the strings of the violin, gracefully swaying in sync with the instrument. Still, he feels lost in what to do as the instruments begin to crescendo, as he bends his torso back and aimlessly waves his arms. 

Dance…he thinks to himself. But how?

The piano rapidly moves along its notes, performing a scale going up and down the keyboard. He feels someone gently grab his hands, guiding him back to stand up straight as the violin plays a long note near the end of the piano’s scale. He recognizes the strands of blue hair before him.

“Here,” Sophia says, with a smile just as gentle as her touch. “Let me show you.”

Sophia guides one of P’s hands to hold her by her torso, while the other holds her hand as both of their arms are stretched out. As the piano begins to empower over the violin with a daring yet melancholic chord, Sophia guides his steps. 

A step forward, then back. A step to the left, then to the right. More steps, forward then back. Even more, left then right. The same pattern repeats, starting slow, but it increasingly becomes quicker to move at the same pace as the music. As the piano crescendos, the violin holds its note. Soon, the line ends, finishing the intro of the song.

What follows next is the harmony of strings and keys. No lyrics are sung so far, and yet so much emotion is felt by P through this melody. Haunting yet mystical. So despondent but also hopeful. Though the pattern of dance he learns is the same, the steps have become grander to fit with the music. As this verse of the song ends, Sophia lets go of the mechanical legion arm of P, holding on to only his plain hand, but soon she departs from the dance. 

Pinocchio now understands what else he could do. The piano becomes quiet as it plays a bridge leading up to the next verse. He must find a new partner before the song picks up again. He circles to the other side of the stargazer, and the person closest to him at the time is none other than the blacksmith with glasses.

“Oh, wha-” Eugenie exclaims, as she is suddenly taken by the hand by P. “P? What are you-”

“Just go along with it,” he says, the ends of his lips perking up as he finds Eugenie’s one attempt to push him away amusing. The poor girl soon found out she couldn’t help it, as she is now swept into the waltz while the next verse plays. It repeats what P now assumes to be the song’s motif, as the piano and violin harmonize again. 

Eugenie is not as graceful as Sophia, P finds. She almost misplaces her feet as P tries to lead the blacksmith in the same pattern Sophia taught him moments ago. So, in an attempt to try something different to match Eugenie’s awkwardness, P does some impromptu spins and twirls with her that are somewhat inspired by the dance he learned from Venigni. Of course, they are not as wild as when performed along with “Someday”. P is careful to time each one with the peak of the played notes. As the verse comes to an end, P lets go of Eugenie in the middle of spin, causing her to wobble as she tries to get her bearings. However, she departs from the dance with a wide smile and even a laugh. That is satisfying enough for P. 

The notes of the piano for this bridge feel like they are becoming more intense, signaling that the song is nearing its climax. He searches for a new partner before the bridge ends, and he is delighted when he circles around the stargazer once again to be met with the lady of the hotel herself.

“Lady Antonia,” he greets with a bow, holding out his hand to her. With a chuckle, Antonia accepts the gesture and rises from her wheelchair. 

Adapting to the elderly woman’s slower movements, P first holds only one of her arms, taking much smaller steps forwards and back as the violin begins to accompany the piano. Antonia mirrors his movements. An accordion soon takes over the melody, dramatically playing a minor chord. Holding Antonia by an arm in one hand and her torso with the other, P gently and carefully dips her, only a few inches as to not harm her. The motif of the song begins to play once again, and P leads the dance. 

“My dear,” says Antonia with a hearty laugh. “I am ever impressed with you! You’ve become quite the dancer.”

“Thank you, Antonia,” he says, perking up at the compliment. 

He remembers that Antonia asked if he would invite her to dance if Krat held another ball. Maybe by then, he’ll be even better. 

The string’s pick up a little, ending the verse. After P bows and Antonia curtsies, he guides her back to her wheelchair. Finally, a lone piano plays, and the song ends.

In the center of the lobby, P stands alone. He’s speechless at what he just heard and he had just done. It’s the same feeling he had back when he first sang to “Fascination”. A pulsing beat within his chest pounds. So…exhilarating. When did his heart start beating so fast?

“Beautiful…” is all he could say. 

“It is, isn’t it,” Belle says, approaching him. She sighs. 

“I would do anything to go back.”

“But all we can do is go forward,” P says.

“Heh. You’re right. That’s what Atkinson would want.”

The clock chimes ten. It’s already gotten so late. 

“Pinocchio, why don’t you go and rest?” Antonia says. 

“Are you sure? There’s still a lot of the lobby to fix up.”

“To be fair, P,” Eugenie says, “you are the one who will be heading out to fight tomorrow. The rest of us will stay up to clean this mess.”

P opens his mouth to protest further, wanting to insist on helping the others. But no words come out as he feels Sophia take his hand. 

“You need your strength for what is to come,” she says, soothing but ever so slightly stern. “Please. Sleep.”

Hearing her, P stops his protests and nods. Since she asked like that, he feels like he could only do as she requests. Bidding the others a goodnight, P walks upstairs to his room/

__

“Boy, what a day,” Gemini chirps. “You doing okay, Pal?”

“I’m alright,” P responds. 

He lies in bed, facing the ceiling. His thoughts have been straying as he wonders about his father. Is he safe or in danger? What would the Alchemists gain from taking him? 

Whenever he returns to the hotel, Geppetto would check in on him. They’re unable to really connect or talk to one another at the moment, but his father still cares about him. He knows that at least, even if Geppetto’s only really requested him to take on some rather dangerous missions. Something stings within him whenever he interacts with Geppetto, however. He’s unsure of where the feeling comes from. 

“Gemini, do you think Father is alright?” P asks. 

“I’m not sure, to be frank. Whatever the Alchemists want from him, it’s not good. That’s for sure.”

“Well…I hope no harm is done on him.”

“All we can really do is hope. But hey! You’re gonna go out and save him tomorrow! If it’s you, Geppetto’s got nothing to fear.”

“You think so?”

“You’ve come this far, haven’t you? Nothing can stop you at this point.”

P lets out a small laugh at the lamp’s statement. It’s the truth. Despite everything, from puppets to monsters, he’s still standing.

“Now, go ahead and sleep, P. We’re gonna have an even longer day tomorrow.”

“Alright. Good night, Gemini.”

The lamp chirps once more before his light dims until there is no glow left. Meanwhile, the boy closes his eyes, drifting into slumber.

Chapter Text

Today would be the day that he sets out for the Alchemists’ Isle. When P had awoken, Venigni informed him that the vehicle was up and ready for departure. What the vehicle was exactly, he doesn’t know.

“So, why won’t you tell me anything about it?” P asks. 

“Call it a surprise!” Venigni exclaims, to which P tenses up. He hasn’t had the best relationship with surprises, such as monsters popping up out of nowhere. The inventor laughs at the boy’s reaction. “Don’t worry. It’s the good kind.”

“Where exactly is this vehicle located though?” Gemini wonders out loud. “Did anyone tell us this beforehand?”

“We hid it within a secret passageway beneath the hotel,” Antonia says, approaching the boy from behind. “It is from there that you will have a clear path to the Alchemists’ Isle.”

“Beneath the hotel?”

“I did mention that this place has quite a bit of secrets.”

The elderly woman guides P back to the library then gestures towards the piano. 

“Pinocchio, I’d like to give you a brief lesson before you depart,” she says, to which P tilts his head. “Please, sit down.”

The boy does so, and Antonia sits beside him as she places her fingers on the piano’s keys. 

“Repeat after me.”

She plays a scale, a simple set of two notes, on the lower end of the keyboard. P repeats her actions, playing the scale on the upper end. As soon as he finishes playing, he hears the sound of concrete shuffling from behind. Looking towards the source, he sees the wall adorning Antonia’s portrait recede, revealing the entrance to what he assumes to be the secret passage. 

“This leads down to the Relic of Trismegistus,” Antonia explains. “Unfortunately, I am unsure of whatever dangers may be lurking around within. So, I ask you, my dear, to please take care of yourself. If anything happens, come straight back to the hotel.”

“I understand. Thank you.”

He proceeds to enter, but he soon stops in his tracks. A lingering, painful idea hangs over his head. 

“Antonia,” he says, “if anything happens to you , could you please contact me? Or at least, tell Venigni or Sophia to send a message.”

Silence grows between them. They both know he will be gone for a while once he departs, and they both know what may happen while he is gone. It won’t be a problem to return at any moment with the stargazers, but he assured himself to not teleport back unless there’s an emergency. He wouldn’t want to waste any time to accomplish his mission of saving his father, after all. 

“Pinocchio, you shouldn’t be worrying about me,” she says, after moments of hesitating in her response. “You should be focused on rescuing Geppetto and stopping Manus’s plans.”

“Why should I not worry?” he responds, his voice beginning to shake. “Antonia, you’ve given me so much ever since I arrived at the hotel. Even though I’m a puppet, you still showed hospitality and kindness to me. You’re even teaching me how to play an instrument…so, how can I not worry about you?”

Hearing this from P, Antonia could only express shock. But she subsides those feelings as she brings a hand up to the boy’s face, gently holding his cheek. 

“My dear, you give me just as much worry as you are showing for me,” she says, maintaining a smile. “I’ve already accepted that my time may arrive sooner than expected. But that is only because I knew I would go in peace and comfort thanks to your gift. I’m feeling better than I have in years ever since taking the cure, and although it is only a brevity of happiness, it is you who gave me it.”

He holds Antonia’s hand, memorizing her touch. Her hands are rough and cold from her age, but to P they are one of the most comforting things to hold on to. 

“If anything does happen to me while you are gone, I will send for you. But if I do, I hope you are in good condition when you return. It would pain me more than my illness to see you harmed.”

Now reassured, the boy nods. Antonia is right. He gave her a choice, and she accepted it. In the end, it was her own decision and she is satisfied with it. That alone is enough for him. With one last goodbye, he enters the Relic of Trismegistus. 

__

One thing P was already prepared for was facing danger while traveling through the Relic. While sparse in number, there were still some puppets activated from the frenzy that had found themselves down here. How that is he is unsure. Still, those enemies weren’t even the worse ones he’d face. Nearing the end of the path before getting to the vehicle, he was met with a lone coffin wrapped in chains. He hears shuffling from above and dodges a thrown weapon. He recognizes its broad blade. It is the broken greatsword of the Eldest of the Black Rabbit Brotherhood.

“Oi, look who it is,” the voice of the Battle Manic says. 

Dropping from above, the three remaining siblings of the Brotherhood stand before P, and their weapons are already drawn. 

“It’s the murderer puppet who killed our brother,” the Eccentric says. 

P already knows what is to happen in the next moment or so. The siblings are out for blood, or rather oil. 

“I’m sorry that you feel this way,” the boy says, drawing his weapon. “I didn’t enjoy killing him. However, it was you who threatened me first.”

“Don’t make excuses,” the Battle Manic snaps. “You had no business to even step within the Malum District. We were defending our turf.”

Turf that was already doomed if it was crawling with monsters, P thinks to himself. 

“I’ve won against you before,” he says, attempting to get the Brotherhood to back down. “What makes you think that you can beat me this time?”

“Ha…Pretty Boy’s resorting to taunts,” the Youngest says, laughing. 

“Sorry, Mate,” says the Eccentric. “That’s sort of the point in the first place.”

In a rapid escalation of events, the Youngest and the Eccentric begin wailing on P, but the boy defends himself with swift dodges and occasional guards. During the confrontation, he notices the Battle Manic turning away, shooting his grappling hook towards a lever. Upon activation, gates appear, closing off the exits of the arena. 

“You’re trying to slow me down,” P thinks out loud. 

“You catch on quick,” the Youngest responds as she attacks, but P dodges her movements. 

“Right we are,” the Eccentric follows up. “But even so…”

The Battle Manic joins the fray with his own array of attacks, thus allowing each sibling to surround P. 

“We may only be here to delay the inevitable,” the scarved Brother exclaims, pointing his weapon towards P. “However, you still have to pay for our brother. So, we’re not going down without a fight!”

One of these parties will be dead by the end of this confrontation. Both parties knew that. However, that didn’t make things any easier. To P, these are humans. Humans who may have a few screws loose in their head, but they are still people who can feel hurt. Their revenge shows that. They’re not like the Alchemists, who are perversions of what he believes humanity is. 

Exhausting moments of clashing weapons, dodging, guarding, and bleeding follow next. The first P was able to take down was the Youngest, who released a piercing scream as he slashed through her torso. His heart beats uncomfortably as he listens to her final sound. The next was the Eccentric. Leaping into the air in an attempt to attack P, this brother made the mistake of lunging too soon, leaving P enough time to dodge and make a counter strike. P didn’t know where he was aiming, but he did hear the sound of a bucket clanging onto the ground and the noise of the Eccentric’s body falling soon after. 

When only the Battle Manic remained, he and P both shot each other with their legion arms, resulting with both being pierced with the hook of the puppet string. However, only one of them had missed their target. As the Rabbit struggled to release the hook from his chest, P endured as his opponent’s string had landed into his upper torso, avoiding his heart completely. It still hurt, but the boy would not be defeated now. 

P pulls the Battle Manic towards him, then finishes him off with one final slash. 

“I already knew our fate was sealed,” the brother says, his voice now becoming hoarse, “when we couldn’t save…our brother.”

The arena is now empty, with only P, the bodies of the Brotherhood, and the coffin. For a moment the boy was able to take a moment's breath from the battle. However, that brief respite would only last a second, as the coffin burst open to his surprise. Out from the coffin was the Eldest Brother, a hulking amalgamation of his original body and wires. 

“They experimented on you as well?” P asks, though he knew he wouldn’t be answered. 

It’s like what happened with Champion Victor. The Alchemists toyed with the dead in order to bring someone back to life. Just like Victor and every Alchemist P’s encountered, however, he is disgusted at what he sees. 

“I don’t care what Manus thinks,” he says. “Humanity doesn’t deserve this form.”

Soon, P defeated the revived Eldest Brother as well. He fell just as hard as he did last time. Pinocchio feels winded after that battle. Despite being prepared for danger, he still didn’t expect to be hit so hard by it. Parts of him feel exhausted and wish to lie down on the ground for a moment or two. However, he can’t waste any more time. Pulling the lever in the edge of the arena, the gates open back up for him. As he exits the area, he is welcomed to an unpleasant sight. 

“Ah!” exclaims a familiar voice from aside. “You! Help me out over here!”

P turns towards the source and finds Alidoro tied up near a bonfire just a few feet away. 

It was the damn Hound. I saw him leave the hotel just before the attack hit. 

Belle’s words echo through his mind upon seeing him. Thus, he approaches the Hound cautiously. 

“Oh, Gods,” Alidoro says, sighing. “I’m so glad to see you! I can’t believe you got past the Brotherhood.”

“What are you doing down here?” P asks. 

“I was kidnapped! After the attack on the hotel, the Red Fox and Black Cat took me down here. Hey, could you get me out of this thing?”

For now, P does what Alidoro asks. When he goes over to untie the rope, he notices something off. There wasn’t even a knot. The ends of the rope were peaking out, not properly tied. He doesn’t mention this to Alidoro as he slides the rope off of the Hound’s person. 

“Aha! Thank you, my friend,” says Alidoro, rising from the ground. “By the way, those scoundrels took a boat off to the Isle with your father. The docks are just down this slope. There might still be a vehicle you could use. Oh, but if anyone asks, I didn’t see anything.” 

P doesn’t immediately go to check the dock. He can’t take anything that the Hound is saying, not when him being a traitor hangs in the back of his mind. 

“Alidoro…” he says, his voice flat. “You betrayed the hotel…why?”

“Ha, what makes you say that I did?”

“Belle saw you leave before the attack.”

“Now, Pino. You really gonna believe that woman? I was kidnapped! She’s a liar.”

“ I’m a liar. I should know when I’m facing another one. So, tell me the truth.”

The Hound huffs.

“Sounds a bit hypocritical coming from you.”

“Just do it,” says Gemini, a shrill chirp releasing from the lamp. 

“Alright, fine,” he groans. “The Alchemists offered me a way to escape Krat. In exchange, I’d lend them the location of Geppetto. It was a sound deal! All the riches I could find in Krat were all discovered, and I need to move on. Simple as that. Also, there was someone back at the Hotel who was so…annoying! I couldn’t stand being near her any longer.”

P scowls, furrowing his eyebrows. He knows Alidoro is referring to Eugenie. Hearing him say that, the boy can’t help but think he is so…petty. 

“I can’t believe this,” says P. “You’re nothing like the man Eugenie sings praises of. In fact, I can’t believe anyone would praise you. You’re nothing but a coward.”

The Hound crosses his arms, laughing beneath his mask. 

“What’s so funny?” Gemini retorts. 

“Oh, it’s just…the puppet is right. I am nothing like the man that girl loves because I’m not him.”

“What?” 

“I’m not the real Alidoro. I’m actually his former partner. Codename: Parrot.”

“Fitting,” comments P, sarcastically. 

“Listen. Alidoro was a good guy. Truly. I even admired him at how he was so amazing at everything…everything but making a profit, that is. We had a disagreement. He got pissed off because I sold some antiques. To be frank, I still don’t understand why he was attached to them.  One thing led to another, and I had to kill him. But the man was so revered, and though we were partners, I was nobody compared to him. If word got out I murdered him…that’d be the end of it all. So, I took up his identity and framed it so that it was I who was killed but in self-defense.”

“Murderer…” P mumbles, his voice low. 

The only thing P feels is loathing. This man doesn’t even sound like he regretted his actions. 

“Hmm,” hums Parrot. “You know, now that I think about it, Alidoro was from the country of the morning. The girl does share some traits with him…perhaps they are related.”

The sound of a weapon being drawn from its sheath. The Fraudulent Hound’s ears pick up and he looks to see P pointing his blade to him.

“Um…what are you doing?”

“You’re a traitor…and a murderer,” he says. 

“So what? You’re gonna kill me as a way to avenge my actions? You’re just a puppet. You can’t even attack if I’m not posing a threat to you. And I? I haven’t even drawn my weapon yet.”

Second Law of the Grand Covenant: A puppet may not harm humans. 

That is the law all puppets inflicted with the frenzy broke. Even he has broken that law as he’s killed the Mad Donkey and the Black Rabbit Brotherhood. But he’s already broken all the other laws of the Grand Covenant. He’s disobeyed Geppetto’s wishes to be a truly good son. He’s lied many, many times. 

However, there’s a string in his programming that would prevent him from truly becoming like the other frenzied puppets. He can only attack those who try to attack him. 

“Look, it doesn’t do either one of us any good just standing around here,” Parrot says, beginning to walk away. “So, I suggest you get on with it. Me and your stupid handsome face can be on our merry way.”

The thing Parrot doesn’t realize is that P has developed a different approach to attacking enemies. An approach, or rather a preference, that wasn’t even in his original programming. He doesn’t only attack anyone that first draws their weapon to him. If there is anyone he deems a threat to himself and the ones he cares about…

“Hnng…!” Parrot gasps, trying to pull the silver blade out of his chest. Pinocchio does so for him, and blood drips out of the Fraudulent Hound’s cloak. 

“You…are like…a human,” are his final words before collapsing to the ground. 

“He got what he deserved,” Gemini chirps. 

“Glad we both agree,” replies P, crouching to meet Parrot’s body. 

He needs to check if the man has anything useful on him. After a moment of searching, he finds a locked vessel within a pocket. Taking it out, P examines it, looking for a way to unlock it. He finds that it requires a code, but he has no way of figuring it out at the moment. There is a note attached to the vessel’s shell.

‘Alidoro’s treasure; damn thing won’t open’

P deduces that after Parrot killed Alidoro, he must’ve taken this in an attempt to find more riches. 

“What do you think it is?” P asks the lamp. 

“Not sure…but you know who might?”

“Venigni.”

He’s brought vessels like these to Venigni before as he’s the one who created the codes that unlock them. They’ve all led to good things.

“Is it okay to go back though?”

“It’ll only be for a few minutes! Besides, I don’t know about you, Pal, but you’re looking pretty dry of supplies after our encounter with the Brotherhood.”

P can’t deny that. He had to use many items during the battle, and he only has a small amount left over. Convinced, he heads back to the Hotel to not only restock but to also meet with Venigni. 

__

“I must say, my friend, you gave me quite the puzzling challenge with this vessel!” Venigni exclaims, handing the now unlocked vessel back to P. “I don’t think I even recognize this model. It looks brand new!”

“I’m glad you were still able to crack the code,” compliments the boy.

“Please. Even an unfamiliar model is no match for my intellect! Now, enjoy its secrets. There’s bound to be something exciting within its contents.”

Walking away from Venigni, P reads over the message. 

Dear Beloved Sister

He tenses up over that first line. His eyes dart across the page as he takes in what is written. 

I’m being chased because I know Krat’s biggest secret…

I’ll have to watch over you from afar until that day. 

…I know people here call you Eugenie as their way, but that name will protect you. Please remember your true name: 

The rest of the message is too damaged to be readable. 

Parrot was right…Alidoro and Eugenie were related. They’re brother and sister! 

“Oh, P!” exclaims a familiar voice. He looks to find Eugenie. “You’re back for more supplies?”

She doesn’t know, he thinks to himself. 

“Eugenie,” he says, but he hesitates to speak further.

What would she think? The hero she thought that man was turned out to be a fraud. The one who she truly looked up to in truth was her brother. It’d be a lot to take in in just one moment. 

“Um…did you need to speak to me?” Eugenie asks. 

He looks between the letter and the girl it was meant to be read by. His heart begins to pound once again. It’s rapid, unnerving. But then…

“I…found Alidoro,” he says, “and he told me the truth. He betrayed us and was working with the Alchemists.”

“W-wait, you’re serious?” 

“That’s not all. He was a fraud. The Alidoro that stayed with us here at the hotel…was the real Alidoro’s former partner Parrot.”

“I do recall he used to have a partner, but I heard he died.”

“Parrot took on Alidoro’s identity because he murdered him.”

“So…you’re saying we had a murderer staying with us?”

Eugenie begins to tremble, holding her hand over her mouth. It’s not easy for P to see her like this, but he has to say more.

“The real Alidoro…” he says, holding the message out to her. “This letter explains everything.”

Immediately, the girl takes the paper out from his hands and looks over its contents. She lets out a faint gasp, then stares at the letter even though she’s already read it fully. 

“I…I can’t believe this,” she says. “It looks real. It fits with everything that’s happened.”

She examines the paper closely then points at something on its upper corner. 

“That’s the mark of the country of the morning. Our people are the only ones that use that mark.”

In a sudden fit, she crumples the paper and shoves it into one of her pockets. She stomps over to her work bench and buries her head into her hands. P goes over to meet her, unsure of what he can do to comfort her. 

“All I ever wanted was to meet my real family,” she says, her voice shaking. “Why…did he keep this a secret from me?”

“He wanted to protect you,” P says. 

“I don’t care! He should’ve at least said something!”

Faint cries escape from her throat. For a moment, P wonders if he did the right thing. He didn’t expect Eugenie to be this distraught from the truth. He still wonders how he can make her feel better. As an attempt, he holds a hand over her back and pats it. 

“I’m so…angry. Wouldn’t it have been better if we were together? Shouldn’t that have been the only thing that mattered?”

“I’m…sorry.”

“No. Don’t apologize.” 

She sits back up and wipes away the tears on her face. 

“I appreciate that you told me the truth. I know you have a habit of being a liar.”

“Oh, I…”

“It’s fine. You know, some people may find bliss in ignorance, but I’d prefer to hear the truth, even if it is harsh. So, thank you, really. For telling the truth, especially one that is so important to me.”

He feels warmth within his heart. He’s happy that everything turned out to be okay. Eugenie moves out of her seat and searches a drawer behind her. 

“When I first arrived at the Workshop Union, there was only one gift left by my family for me.”

Out from the drawer, Eugenie pulls out a disk then hands it over to P. The boy takes it and lights up at the sight of a new record. 

“Really?” he asks, checking that Eugenie is sure of giving this to him. 

“Of course,” she says, nodding. “It’s the least I could do to thank a friend.”

He really should be heading to the docks soon…but he can spare a few minutes to listen to this new song. He walks over to the gramophone and starts it up, then he is ready to make the record spin. But he is soon interrupted in his ritual. 

“P, I just remembered something important,” says Venigni, approaching the boy. “Since you are here, there’s something you should be able to do.”

“What would that be?” asks P. 

“This,” the inventor continues, taking out a small mechanical device, “is a wavelength decoder. It translates the ergo wavelengths puppets use to communicate with one another. Have you ever heard a puppet ‘talk’ in some capacity?”

“I…have.”

The King’s attempts to talk to him flash through his memory. 

“You weren’t able to understand them were you?”

“No, not really.”

“Well, this little trinket here will allow us to do so! There was a message left behind by the King of Puppets, but I’m unable to make anything out. You, however, might be able to do so. You’re neither puppet nor human after all.”

“I guess I can try.”

“Perfect! Now, listen carefully. Tell me what you hear.”

Venigni starts up the decoder, playing the audio of the King of Puppets. At first, it is only static, an uncomfortable scratching sound that plays before his ears. However, soon, he makes out a voice, clearly a young man's, amongst the static. 

"Carlo…I hope you can hear me. The puppet frenzy…it was all ordered by one person. We are bound by the Grand Covenant as his puppets. That is why this genocide was committed. First law: All puppets must obey their creator's commands. Law 0: the creator's name is…" 

A pause, interrupted by the static. P listens intensely, focused as to not miss anything. 

"...Geppetto. Giuseppe Geppetto." 

Pounding within his chest. Brief, anxious breaths. 

Geppetto  

His own father is-

"P?" Venigni says, noticing the shocked state of the boy. "P, what did you hear." 

"The puppet frenzy…" 

"What? What about it? Please, tell me!" 

No lies

"Geppetto. He was the one who commanded it." 

Venigni stares, frozen in a state of disbelief. 

"No…P, you're lying." 

"This time I'm not." 

The inventor removes his top hat, running a hand through his hair with his mouth partially fallen. He starts pacing back and forth. 

"I have no reason to not believe you. But…why would he do such a thing? We worked together on the Grand Covenant, yet he decided to implement another law behind my back?”

“Wait, the Grand Covenant wasn’t always a part of the puppets?”

“No. When the puppets were first created, they were lawless.”

The inventor stops pacing, holding his hat close to his chest like he is praying. 

“Did I ever tell you my story?”

P thinks about it, and aside from how popular and rich he is, the boy realizes he doesn’t really know about anything. He shakes his head, and Venigni continues speaking.

“I am…an orphan. I lost my parents when I was a young boy. They were murdered before my very eyes…by a puppet. It was one who was possessed by the awakened ergo of a crazed man. I know this because he told me his name, as he was covered in my parents’ blood!”

Venigni stares into P’s eyes, signaling that he wants the boy to remember this detail as clearly as he has. 

“Arlecchino. The authorities covered up the murder by saying it was a mugging, but I knew the truth. Ever since that day, I swore that such a tragedy would never befall another person again. Thus, I collaborated with Geppetto to implement the laws of the Grand Covenant.”

Placing his hat back on top of his head, the inventor looks away from P, as if he is hiding his expression. 

“Whatever reason he has for starting the puppet frenzy, Geppetto cannot answer for his actions unless you save him.”

P notices Venigni clench his fist, the force shaking his palms. The boy himself, however, still finds it difficult to comprehend that his father is the one who started it all. After a couple of quiet moments, Venigni hands over the wavelength decoder to P. 

“I don’t think I’ll make much use out of this myself. However, there may be some messages left for your ears alone, my friend. So, take care of it.”

Venigni walks away back to his corner of the lobby, leaving P alone with the device in his hands. He is unsure of what else the King would’ve had to say. But that name…

Carlo 

When he heard that name, something within him broke. A part of him recognizes that name, but the rest of his mind is foggy at where he’s heard it. The King referred to him with that name back at the opera house as well. That couldn’t possibly be referring to him…could it? 

He shakes the thoughts away. He still has matters to attend to. First things first is the record. He finally lets the record spin.

A soft guitar, then followed up by a harmonica. Both instruments accompany one another, playing this song’s melody. They are soon joined by a cello playing softly in the background. There are no lyrics to this song, but like many other instrumentals, P still finds the music pleasant. 

Carlo…I hope you can hear me. 

Despite trying to ignore it, the King’s voice still hangs in the back of his mind. So much so that it’s like a discordant chord against the music. He looks back down to the device Venigni gave him. What else could there be to hear? He tries to fight against the curiosity, but like how it was back when he received his first record, he just can’t help himself. He has to know. He plays it and can only hear static at first. Then…

“Carlo…I hope you can hear me. I’m Romeo. We grew up together at the Monad Charity House. Remember? We’re best friends! When I first awakened, I was…horrified at what had happened. The lives I and many other puppets took without our control…I couldn’t stand for it. I began to lead puppets who had also broken free from the Grand Covenant, fending off the Petrification Disease and the Alchemists. But…I knew you were still out there. I wished for you to be by my side. I tried sending you messengers, but you got rid of them all!”

The voice laughs.

“It’s just like when we were kids. You’re still an unstoppable fellow! I remember you. You’re…the most important person in my life. I don’t think I ever got to tell you that.”

Static.

“I’m Romeo. We grew up together at the Monad Charity House. Remember? We’re best friends!”

The message repeats. 

Best friends.

“I—m, R–m-e–__Ca–r-lo___I_l-ve__y-o-u—------”

The voice becomes overpowered by the static. Eventually, there is only white noise, and the device powers down. 

He stands still, gripping onto the device, and soon only the music plays, the harmonica’s melancholic melody playing alongside a subtle piano. But shortly after, even the song ends, with the harmonica holding a note, and a piano finishes the song with a brief scale. 

In a rush, he climbs the staircase and heads over to Geppetto’s office. The painting of a boy meets his gaze, with hazel eyes and a pouting expression. The cogs all turn in his head, and his heart pumps to an erratic beat. 

“Carlo…” he says to the painting. “You’re…Carlo. I’m…”

He hesitates to finish that thought. He may look like Carlo from the head to his toes, aside from a few differences. But if he truly is meant to be Carlo, why doesn’t he feel like he is? 

“I d-don’t remember,” he mumbles. “Why don’t I?”

His grip on the device tightens further, but his fingers loosen to delicately hold it. He grows frustrated.

“Romeo, please. There must be something else left.”

He starts the device up again. Static

Again. Static. A voice.

“I’m Romeo–Remeber? We’re–”

Again. 

“I–wi–sh–for you_”

Again.

“You’re the–”

Again.

“__ne–ver___t-t–told__”

Again. Again. Again.

Static. Static. Static.

The same message. Over, and over, and over. 

He holds the device close to his trembling body and begins to feel something uncomfortable building up in his throat. However, his exasperated breaths make it difficult, and soon his eyes begin to burn. 

“I-I’m…” he tries to say out loud, but his words come out as meek. “...sorry.”

He turns away from the painting, and ends up eyeing the empty desk of his father. 

A thump in his chest. A sharp pain. An endless string of incomplete gasps. 

“Geppetto…”

That name feels like iron against fire in his mouth. It burns him, twists him, from inside and out. He returns to gripping onto the device with his regular arm, but he risks breaking it. If he were to hold onto it with his legion arm, he’d already have completely destroyed it. 

Father? Family? 

No…he can’t bring himself to call that man any of those terms either.  

“...liar.”

Chapter Text

Driving beneath the ocean is an interesting experience so far, P thinks. Through the telescope of Pistris, the monstrous submarine he is manning, he is able to glimpse at the dark vastness that lies beneath the ocean’s surface. It’s terrifying but there’s also a strange comfort it brings to the boy. He needs that feeling after what he learned a few hours ago. 

“So…you doing alright, Pal?” Gemini asks. 

He glances towards the lamp, which sits on top of a counter nearby. 

“I don’t want to talk right now,” he answers. 

“Look, it’s been a hell of a day so far. I get it. But if something’s wrong, it’s okay to speak up!”

He’s heard Gemini say that before, and it has helped in previous scenarios. However, it’s not that he wants to avoid the conversation entirely. He just doesn’t know where to start.

“Why…”

“‘Why’ what?”

“...why are we still trying to save him?”

A sad string of chirps.

“Aw, Pal…”

“He started all of this. All of those lives lost to the puppet frenzy were because of him. And Romeo…”

His heart becomes heavy at the thought of the King. Romeo already knew. He even tried to warn him! But he was blind, following his father’s orders, and that makes P even more upset. 

“Now, P. You have to remember this. Even if Geppetto did all of those things, he is still your father.”

“Is that all I should care about?”

“Geppetto does deserve to answer for what he’s done. But you want to learn the truth from him right?”

He nods.

“Well, you won’t learn anything if you don’t save him. Save him, request the truth out of him, and then we’ll figure out what to do with him afterwards.”

He ponders the lamp’s words. What exactly would be the right thing to do to Geppetto? Would he have to decide that? If he does, he doesn’t even know what’d be the best course of action. 

“Everything’s gonna be okay,” Gemini chirps. “I’ll always be here for you, Pal!”

“Ha, I know,” P says, a small smile thanks to the lamp’s reassurance. “Thank y-”

A red light begins to flash within the submarine. 

“Warning.”

The voice of the intercom echoes through the chamber. 

“Warning. Approaching destination.”

P checks the location of the submarine through a separate device. Sure enough, he and Gemini are set to touch land in a few moments. He takes the lamp and attaches it to his belt.

“Okay, P,” the lamp chirps. “Remember what the manual said. Slowly rise and then-”

Unfortunately for Gemini, P had already pushed a button he most certainly shouldn’t have pressed. A sudden burst of power erupts from the engines, causing Pistris to shoot rapidly up through the waters. 

The great dogfish Pistris emerges from the ocean, crashing back down onto the shore. Its metallic shell rolls through the sand then stops in the middle of the beach. Soon after the calm has settled, P leaves its hatch and climbs down to meet the gray sand. 

“Listen, Pal,” chirps Gemini, exasperated. “Nice landing, but let’s not make it a habit.”

“Sorry.”

The boy turns around to check on the vehicle. 

“At least it’s not too damaged,” he comments.

“Yeah…by some miracle,” retorts the lamp. 

P faces back towards the land. Cold wind blows pass, gently picking up grains of sand. Blue mist, which P recognizes as ergo spores, slightly obscures what lies ahead. However, through the mist, he sees a faint yellow glow. Standing close by is a figure, a woman with blue hair. 

“Hey, it’s Sophia!” Gemini exclaims. 

While the lamp may be excited by a familiar face’s appearance, something immediately strikes P as odd. 

How in the world did Sophia get here? 

“I’m so glad to see you made it safely, Clever One,” she says. 

“What are you doing here?” P says. “You were back at the hotel. How’d you get here before us?”

She looks into his eyes with a placid expression, completely unlike the kind eyes he’s seen on her face before. 

“The Sophia you’ve seen at the hotel is not the real me,” she explains. “It is but a projection. My real self is trapped on the upper part of Arche Abbey.”

She turns to look to the distance, pointing ahead. P follows the direction of her gesture and can make out the faint shape of a large tower. 

“A long time ago, I became Manus’s tool. But in the process, my soul became fragments. In truth, I didn’t wake you to save Krat…but to save me.”

A part of him squeezes in of itself when he hears that. So…she lied to him as well.

“What did you gain from lying to me?” 

“Nothing. I’m…sorry. I felt guilty about it, but when you had answered me at all, I was so relieved, elated.”

“You could’ve told me.”

She hides her face. Is she so ashamed that she can’t even look at him?

“If my body and soul can reunite, maybe then I can finally have peace. So, I have one final request: please find my body and help me find peace. I’ll lend you my power…but my guidance ends here.”

Sophia’s spirit dissipates into blue light, leaving P alone amongst the sand. 

Be careful. The Black Seaside is surrounded by memories from the dead’s ergo. 

Sophia’s final words of guidance. 

“Okay, P,” says Gemini. “Let’s get going.”

But the boy doesn’t move. 

“P?”

“This whole time…I thought I was doing this to help people.”

“But…you are!”

“Not for the reasons I believed.”

__

He’s been walking for a while now, but all he sees is sand and ergo. At some point, he’d say he’d be exhausted. The Abbey doesn’t appear to be any closer. As he continued to trek through the valley, he kept on asking questions to himself.

What’s compelling him to still do any of this? 

Manus and the Alchemists have to be stopped, yes. But…

Sophia lied to him.

Geppetto lied to him. 

Both were only using him for their own purposes. A little part of him thinks that there is technically nothing stopping him from not saving them. Yet, he still wants to. As for why…he can’t even answer that. 

“When will he come back?”

He hears a voice, echoing through the wind. 

“When will Daddy come back?”

A child…

He follows it, searching for the source. Soon, he comes across a strange sight. Statues made of sand are acting out a scene. One is a young boy with short curly hair. The other is a woman. 

“I’m sorry, Carlo,” the woman says, and P recognizes the voice. “Your father hasn’t returned yet.”

“How long until he does?” the boy asks. “It’s already been two weeks…”

“Your father will be back. He’s just busy with his work.”

The boy shakes his head.

“You always say that, Sophia. He’s always busy .”

The boy pouts and stomps his feet. The woman kneels down to meet his eyes.

“I know it’s hard, but I have an idea,” she says, enthusiastically. “While you wait, why don’t you make some new friends? There is this boy who just joined the Charity House today. His name is Romeo.”

The statues crumble into dust as the scene ends. P stares at the spot where the statues once stood. 

Sophia…knew Carlo. 

The sounds of swords clashing against one another can be heard a short distance ahead. He follows them to find another performance by the statues.

A group of children are dueling one another, but a soft glow brings P’s attention to two particular children. One he recognizes as Carlo, the other…

“Hi!” the other boy says. “I’m Romeo, but you can call me Lampwick. Let’s practice together!”

Carlo avoids eye contact with Romeo. 

“I’m…Carlo. Say, what’s with the nickname?”

“Oh, I took it up after reading this book. There’s a character who’s called ‘Lampwick’, and I just like the name a lot!”

It’s at this moment where Carlo starts meeting the other boy’s gaze. 

“Wait, the one about the wooden puppet?”

“Yeah! Do you know it?”

“Know it? It’s my absolute favorite!”

The two children gasp at the same time, as if both just had a revelation. Soon after, they begin to laugh. 

Again, the statues crumble, and P continues walking. In the distance, he sees numerous faint glows of blue. He realizes that each one is a different scene, a different memory. The Abbey is still a ways away. It’ll be a long journey indeed.

__

Romeo and Carlo peak their heads out of the door, looking up and down the hallways. 

“Looks like everyone’s asleep,” Romeo says.

“Let’s go!” Carlo excitedly exclaims, in a hushed whisper. 

The two boys sneak out of the hallway and find their way to the lower floors of the Monad Charity House. After picking the lock of the back door, they quickly head outside of the building and wander away. Under the cover of night, the two had soon found themselves in the Malum District. The Red Lobster Inn, although not of the highest quality of restaurants, is where the boys had found their fun for tonight. 

A dart is thrown across the room and lands just short of a bullseye. 

“Damn it!” the man who had thrown it yells. The rest of the Inn’s guests jeer and laugh at his misery.

“Can I try?” 

At the sound of a young boy’s voice, the entire inn goes silent and stares at Carlo. Romeo covers his mouth, attempting to conceal his laughter. 

“Heh, really think you can do better than me, Kid?” the man asks. 

“Oh, I know I can,” responds Carlo, proudly standing up with both hips on his waist. 

“Alright, try me.”

The man hands Carlo a dart, and the boy glares backup to his face, which is obscured by a mask. It looks like a snake, as it is decorated with yellowish scales. There are faint etchings of fangs where its mouth would be and beady, black eyes stare into Carlo’s gaze. 

“Say, if I get a bullseye, would you be so kind as to buy me and my friend some dinner?”

“Ha! Sure. I’ll even get you some pie. Miss, however, and you’ll be paying for me.”

“Ok, deal.”

“Uh, Carlo,” Romeo says. “You know we didn’t bring any money, right?”

“It’s fine, Lampwick. Have some faith in me, will ya?”

Carlo stands on top of a table, giving him the height he needs to be at eye level with the target. He steadies his aim, breathing at a slow pace. He can hear the mumbling and snickers of the other inn guests, but he ignores them. He aligns the dart as precisely as he can and…

“Bullseye!” Carlo exclaims, and Romeo comes up to slam his hand with a high five. 

The other guests gasp and clap.

“Heh, impressive,” the man says. “Waitress! Get these lads some of the freshest meat you’ve got.”

“Ahem,” Carlo says, getting the man’s attention. He rolls his eyes.

“And some pie.”

He leads the two to an empty table in the corner of the room, and they enjoy the meal Carlo had won. 

“So, what should I call you two?” the man asks. 

“I’m Carlo!”

“And I’m Romeo. I apologize if we’re disturbing your night.”

“Nah. The boy won fair and square, and I’m a man of my word.”

“So, what do we call you then, sir?” Carlo asks.

“Well, I’m a stalker,” he says, and the two boys’ eyes widen with excitement hearing that. “By code, we’re not to reveal our names in public. You can call me Serpent, though. It’s my codename.”

“Wow, it’s so great to meet you,” Romeo says. “We’re training to become stalkers.”

“Are you now?” Serpent says, his tone inquisitive. “Well, boys, let me be frank with you. The life of a stalker is not an easy one. You’ll go through some difficult experiences. Maybe you’ll even have to make tough decisions. So, even knowing that, would you still be willing to go through the hardships?”

“You bet we are,” Carlo happily responds. “It’s our dream!”

“Well, dreams are nice, but they’re not reality. Now, I’m not discouraging you from pursuing this life. I’m just giving a fair warning. This is a life where you can easily be injured…or worse.”

“We understand,” Romeo responds. “But we’ve already made up our minds. Carlo and I…we want to be the best of the best.”

Serpent laughs, heartily, and his mask shakes from the man’s bellows. 

“Ha ha! You know what? You two have got spirit. I like that.”

“Serpent,” a deep, rumbling voice says from nearby. 

Approaching the table is a giant figure wearing a mask that looks like a gorilla.

“Ah, Ape,” Serpent greets. “What is it?”

“We just got another request.”

“Okay, I’ll meet you outside.”

Ape nods and walks away to the entrance. Serpent, on the other hand, stands up from his seat. 

“Well, this was fun,” he says. “You boys have a good night.”

They bid the stalker Serpent goodbye, and the man leaves the inn disappearing into the night. 

For the next couple of moments, the two boys finish the meals Carlo had won them. They can both agree that what they are eating is much better than anything they’ve been given back at the Monad Charity House. Despite their stomachs being full, they still weren’t satisfied just yet for the night. 

A message must be left for the remaining guests. Sneaking upstairs, the two boys find the perfect canvas to leave behind their signatures. 

Young Lampwick was able to snag some ink and a brush from another room. In a fit of laughter, the boy writes on the painting. 

“‘I, Romeo, will become the greatest stalker in all of Krat’!” he says out loud as he writes. 

Carlo snickers and grabs the brush out of his friend’s hand, then proceeds to write his own message. 

“‘Then I, Carlo, will become bigger and stronger than Romeo and become the greatest stalker in the world’!” exclaims Carlo. 

Romeo snickers. 

“Big ambitions. I wouldn’t be surprised if you did become better than me.”

“Really? Thanks for admitting.”

“But…no way are you getting taller than me!”

“What? Hey, just watch me.”

“Sure, dumbass.”

The two laugh off the conversation, but their joy is soon interrupted. Seems the owner of the restaurant doesn’t appreciate their property being messed with. Swiftly, the mischievous boys leave the Red Lobster, avoiding a harsh punishment. 

__

“Today we celebrate this year’s Senior Class of the Monad Charity House!” Valentinus exclaims to the audience.

Behind him are rows and rows of graduates, standing proudly. Somewhere amongst this group is Carlo, who keeps staring into the crowd. He is looking for someone.

“These young men and women have all trained to become outstanding citizens of Krat,” Valentinus continues. “Once, they were only children with dreams. Now, they can go out and achieve those dreams. So, with full hearts, let us congratulate our graduates!”

The audience applauds and roars with cheers, standing from their seats. The graduating class cross one arm across their chest, performing the Stalker’s Greeting. But the cheers do not reach Carlo’s ears. He still searches for one person in the crowd. In a sea of people, of families and friends, he searches for his father. 

To Carlo’s dismay, Geppetto is nowhere to be seen. 

Later, when the other graduates go off to meet with their family, Carlo instead heads outside to meet with Romeo. Despite the celebration happening inside, outside is more dreary as clouds blanket the sky. 

“He didn’t show up?” Romeo asks, shocked. “At all?”

“No,” Carlo says, kicking a rock nearby. “He only cares about his work.”

He clenches his fist, so much so that Romeo notices the tips of Carlo’s fingers turn white. 

“That old man can die for all I care!” the young man exclaims. 

“Carlo…” Romeo says, gently grabbing his friend’s shoulder. “You shouldn’t say things like that. At least you have a father that you know is around. My parents…they’re gone.”

“I know, Lampwick,” mumbles Carlo, pushing away Romeo half-heartedly. “I’m sorry. But, and please forgive me for saying this, a father who is never around is no better than one who is dead.”

They both sigh at the statement as they both know it is the truth. 

A clamor arises from not too far from them. They both look towards the source and see a young woman leave the building. They recognize her mask, one that only covers her eyes and has a single feather extending from the upper corner of it. Walking beside her is a man wearing a cricket mask, who is presumably her partner.

“It’s her…” Carlo says. “The legendary stalker.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Romeo says, already walking ahead. “Let’s talk to her!”

__

“Excuse me, ma’am?” Carlo says, stopping the stalker in her tracks. “Could I please speak to you?”

She sighs. 

“Make it quick, boy. I have places to be.”

“Please, make me your apprentice!” he says, without hesitation. “You’re the legendary stalker. I could learn so much from you.”

She looks back, exuding a tense aura. Despite her eyes being obscured by her mask, the frown formed by her lips is enough to tell Carlo everything.

“If you need to become an apprentice despite being a graduate, perhaps you are not ready to be a stalker in the first place.”

“But-”

“Gemini,” she says, beckoning her partner. “Take them away.”

The Cricket bows his head then turns to Carlo and Romeo. He stands in between the two and the legendary stalker, preventing either of the boys from continuing their approach. 

__

It’s been months since graduation, and today would be Carlo and Romeo’s first mission where they are working together. The two had been doing their own solo missions as newly made stalkers, so they hadn’t seen each other again until today. Their mission is to act as bodyguards for the Monad Charity House. Both young men were personally hired by Valentinus Monad. 

Before heading out to the Charity House, they both agreed to meet together at the Red Lobster Inn for breakfast. 

“You grew your hair out,” says Romeo. 

“You like it?” asks Carlo, playfully flipping it, but then returning to a more serious tone. “Never really found time to cut it.”

“You don’t need to. I think it suits you.”

The compliment makes Carlo’s heart light. It feels good to be around his best friend again. As they leave the inn, Carlo notices something off about Romeo’s equipment.

“You’re missing your graduation necklace,” he says. 

“Oh yeah. I lost it during a mission. It’s fine though. Not the most important thing in the world.”

Carlo would disagree. Stalkers trained by the Monad Charity House have a different standing than others. Romeo was one of the most determined students, and Carlo believes his efforts should be recognized. 

On the carriage ride to the Charity House, the two catch up on events that had happened since their last encounter. During the ride, Carlo hands over an impromptu gift to his friend.

“Wait, what are you giving me your necklace for?” questions Romeo. 

“Well, you lost yours. And it’s not like I have anyone to show it to.”

‘It’s not like Father cares’ is what Carlo wants to say, but he keeps it to himself.

“Carlo, you really don’t have to.”

“It’s a gift, dumbass. From a friend, for a friend.”

Romeo chuckles at the sentiment then accepts the gift whole-heartedly, placing it around his neck. The Monad’s anchor hangs loosely on top of his chest, and Carlo smiles at the sight. He thinks it suits Romeo more than anyone else. 

__

It should’ve been an easy job…stand guard around the building and make sure no trespassers get in or out. No one would have expected an attack to happen within the Monad Charity House, however. Carlo hasn’t been to hear how or when the attack occurred, but all he knows is that people have already perished. 

“Rookie!” a higher-ranking stalker exclaims while approaching him. “Lead survivors back to the lobby. The rest of us will be fighting off whatever’s been causing this mess.”

“Roger,” he says, proceeding to carry out his order.

“And you,” the same stalker says, turning to Romeo. “You’re coming downstairs with me.”

“Got it,” he says, beginning to follow his superior. He turns his head back briefly towards Carlo. “Good luck! Be careful!”

“You better not get yourself killed!” 

Panicking servants of the Charity House were weeping, frozen from the chaos ensuing. Carlo and his fellow stalkers were all doing their best to get everyone back on their feet. Some complied easily, relieved from the help they received for their safety. Others were too paralyzed to move, requiring someone to carry them out. As Carlo was helping someone get to the stairs, a strange sound captured his ears. He turns his head towards the end of the hallway, where he sees the silhouette of a figure standing on the other side of the hall’s doors. Whoever it is looks like they are struggling to get through. 

Must be another survivor, Carlo thinks. 

“Go get ‘em,” a stalker says, taking the survivor Carlo was assisting. “We’ll help whoever’s left here.”

He nods and rushes down the hallway. Pulling open the door, he is met with another servant of the Charity House…but everything about this person is wrong. 

“Oh…thank…goodness.”

Carlo is stunned at what he is seeing. Blue liquid oozes out of this person’s eyes and mouth, like an overflowing river. Light blue scales protrude out of their skin, replacing flesh with stone.

Whatever it is that stands before him, he doesn’t even recognize it to be human. 

The person coughs, more blue liquid pouring out onto the floor. He steps back, disgusted. Looking beyond the doors, he sees a dark blue fog creep into the hallway, quickly obscuring his vision. 

An uncomfortably sick feeling arises within him once he is met with the fog. Despite being completely fine earlier, he feels his throat become clogged, a burning and piercing sensation building up. It is suffocating, consuming him. With his draining energy, he looks up to be met with the sight of the person he had ‘saved’ collapse onto the ground, shrieking and shriveling up. In mere moments, the shrieking stops, as the person is blanketed in gray stone, and what remains is a petrified corpse. 

He hears steps from behind him and turns around. A stalker has come back down. 

‘No!’

“Get out of here!” Carlo exclaims, as a harsh cough follows his speech. “Block all entrances to the lobby!”

“Kid, you’re hurt!” 

“Don’t worry about me! Just don’t let whatever this stuff is touch you!”

More fog pours into the hallway, and the stalker barely escapes its touch as she runs back upstairs. 

He can feel every inch of his body become weaker and weaker, exhaustion crashing into him like waves colliding with a beach. He doesn’t know what he can do from here. Everything is dark because of the fog. He can’t get help unless he wants to endanger anyone who isn’t infected with this illness. 

He falls over, almost face planting into the floor. Must’ve tripped on something…

He feels numb, all feeling in the lower half of his body evaporated. He looks back.

Gone…they’re gone. His legs…

A blood-curdling scream, so full of fear he never thought he’d ever feel. 

“Carlo!”

A sound so relieving, so sweet to hear within the dark. 

“Oh god,” he hears him say, gasping at the sight of Carlo’s current state. “Come on. We’re getting out of here.”

Even though he feels Romeo’s familiar touch grasp him and pick him up, whatever that remains of Carlo’s body feels like it is being stretched and churned. Romeo carries his injured friend, one arm just above where his legs had crumbled away, and the other beneath his neck. With his left arm, Carlo holds onto Romeo’s shoulders. He wishes to keep hold of him. 

At this angle, Carlo can see Romeo’s face clearly. 

The sight worries, saddens him immensely.

“Lampwick…” he says, his voice barely audible. “Your face.”

Half of his face is covered in the blue scales he saw on that other person. 

“Heh, don’t worry about it. As long as it didn’t get my good side…it didn’t right?”

It’s enough to make Carlo release a weak laugh. 

“Dumbass…”

Romeo approaches the staircase, but Carlo stops him.

“No…the fog is what’s infecting us. We’ll put everyone else in danger if we let it into the lobby.”

“Alright, we’ll head out through the back entrance.”

They exit through the other end of the hall. Dreadful sights had laid ahead. More petrified corpses lie along the ground. A strange blue ooze had spread along the ceiling and walls, likely formed from the fog. 

“One hell of a mission this turned out to be,” says Carlo.

“If this is our first mission together, can you imagine what it’ll be like down the road?” asks Romeo. 

“Bet it’ll get easier. After all, by then, we’ll be legendary stalkers.”

They laugh.

“You’re right…I’ll be the greatest stalker in Krat.”

“And I’ll be the greatest in the world.”

“Hell yeah.”

Maybe they were delusional. Maybe they were optimistic. But, even so, they were at least with each other.

Eventually, Romeo is able to find the lower exit of the Charity House. 

“Okay, we can head out and into the back gardens,” he says, hints of hope within his soar voice. 

In their hurry to exit, Carlo loses his hold of Romeo, causing the latter to almost fall. Unfortunately for the former, he hits the ground, unable to pick himself back up. Both young men stare in horror at the reason why.

His arm, just like the legs, have crumpled into dusty stone. 

At this point, any hope he had of leaving had disappeared. 

“Carlo, we can still make it,” says Romeo, his voice beginning to shake. “We can get you out and find someone who can help you.”

He grabs his last remaining limb, but Carlo does not return the grasp. 

“No…” he says, his voice quiet and faint. “Lampwick…you need to get out of here.”

“And leave you behind? No way!”

“You’re not as messed up as I am. Get out of here, get back up.”

“No. No, no, no.”

“Hey. You’ll still have a chance to live out your dream. Just go now.”

“No! That dream? It wasn’t just mine, it was yours as well. So, come on, and get up! We need to live out our dream.”

Our…

“Wait…our?”

Romeo can only chuckle, but the swelling tears in his eye do not match the expression he is trying to make. 

“I…wanted us to live it out together, and many more along the way.”

Speechless…he can feel his heart tightening.

He did too. 

With the last remaining ounce of strength in his right arm, he places a palm against  Romeo’s chest, where he can feel the necklace he had given him mere hours ago against his heart, and pushes him away to the exit. He laughs, but they soon devolve into tearful chokes.

“Romeo…you romantic jackass!” he exclaims. “Get out of here!”

A burning liquid builds up in Carlo’s throat and, with a forceful cough, blue blood emerges from his mouth. 

Romeo only stares, paralyzed at the sight of his friend. 

Idiot. 

“GO!”

The force behind his voice was enough to snap Romeo out of his daze.

The last thing Carlo sees is his friend opening the door to the last small hall before he is released outside. 

A heart beat , from a steady rhythm, to a rapid tempo, to a single bump. 

__

His heart pounds.

He doesn’t know or recall how long he has been walking along the sands of the Black Seaside now.

“P?” the voice of Gemini asks. “You’ve been spacing out for a while.”

All of those memories…he remembers now. They had poured into him as he continued his trek. 

He remembers…

But can he even call those memories his own?

Thunder claps and lightning dances in the sky. He looks up, being met with the sight of waves upon waves of ergo gathering into one spot. Just up ahead is Arche Abbey. 

“You ready for this, Pal?”

He feels for the necklace, the only memento of Romeo that now remains, in his pocket. Taking it out, he gazes towards it.

‘Carlo…I love you’

Romeo was Carlo’s best friend, but clearly something even more than that. Carlo was the one Romeo was reaching towards when he and P fought, and he is the one the King had left a message for. 

And yet, despite that, P’s heart still beats for him. Those feelings, those memories…even if he cannot say they are his own, they are a part of him. He puts on the necklace, then removes his blade from its sheath. 

“Always.”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       

Chapter Text

A grueling and exhausting battle had been conquered. To P’s relief, Laxasia falls to her knees, her life beginning to fade. The dark clouds that overlook the Abbey disappear, and the light of day embraces the land. 

Seeing how bright it has gotten now tells P how long he’s been climbing this tower. After Laxasia’s defeat, he wants to just sit down and take a breather. When did he start becoming so tired after a battle? 

“P?” a staticky voice plays in his head, surprising P. 

“Venigni?” he responds. 

It’s been a while since he’s heard Venigni try this form of communication. It caught him off guard for a moment. 

“Oh, thank God,” the inventor says. “P, what’s your progress on breaching the Abbey?”

He looks up to the tower standing before him across the bridge. A long way to go still.

“I’m nearing the top,” he answers.

“Okay…if you are able to, please return to the hotel.”

“What? Right now?”

He’s come so far now. Must he really return when he’s made so much progress already?

“P…” Venigni’s voice is missing the usual jovial tone he’d speak with. “It’s time.”

Silence. 

He can’t afford to stand around. Not anymore. He rushes to the closest stargazer he had built before facing Laxasia. 

If anything were to happen to you…

__

“Where is she?” he asks, his voice raised.

The moment he is back in the light of the hotel’s lobby, he is scrambling to look for Antonia. Eugenie, a distraught look on her face, points up to the stairs. 

“She’s in her room,” she says. 

He does not hesitate. 

Antonia’s room is just to the right of Geppetto’s office. He hadn’t been inside it since arriving at the hotel. 

Venigni walks out of the room, rubbing a hand through his hair as he holds his hat in another. He notices P’s approach, looking towards the young man solemnly. 

“Is she-?” says P, but his words are interrupted by gasps for air. He’s only been running for the past hour or so. 

“Not yet,” Venigni says, shaking his head. “Go to her.”

He hastily walks into the room. 

Antonia, the color completely drained from her face, lies upon her bed. Polendina holds one of her hands, tightly yet gently. The puppet butler looks up towards P, and if he weren’t created with an ever static expression, a deep frown would be upon his face. P can tell that he wants to stay by Antonia’s side, as he clenches her frail hands. However, he stands up from his spot and walks past. 

“Please…spend these last moments with care,” he whispers as he walks out of the room. He closes the door, leaving P alone with Antonia. 

With no hesitation, he walks over to Antonia, kneeling on the floor to meet her eye. She stares blankly into the distance, little to no reaction to P’s presence. But as he takes her hand, she slightly turns her head into his direction. 

He needs to say something. He needs to say everything. But what should he say? What could he say? He tries to form words, but nothing comes out, and it is only incomplete stutters that escape his mouth. 

“Oh, my dear…” says Antonia, her voice a mere whisper. The corner of her lips perk up as she tries to smile. “You’re here.”

“Antonia…” 

He still can’t speak. 

“Please don’t cry.”

“I’m not.”

He doesn’t even realize.

“You lie to yourself. You’re far too good at that for your own sake.”

“It’s…it’s not fair. It’s not fair. It’s too soon…I was so close to finishing it all. I want more time…”

“I’m sorry. I know you do, but…this will have to be enough.”

“But who else would…teach me? I haven’t played a song with you yet.”

“Dear Pinocchio, I’ve already taught you the basics. I can tell…you’ll be absolutely fantastic.”

“How?”

She points towards the middle of his chest, where his ticking heart beats.

“Whenever I played…I’d play from the heart. In you, I see someone beautiful, kind. Thus, I know you’ll make…beautiful music.”

A hand hovers over his chest. Could he really do as Antonia says? Could he really when he’s lied and killed? 

“I remember…such happy days. They were so…peaceful. I never thought I’d feel that serenity again until today. So, my dear, once again, I am grateful for what you have given me.”

“And I…thank you. For everything.”

With all the strength and will she could muster, Antonia holds a hand up to Pinocchio’s face. Noticing this, he leans in closer, gently bringing her hand up to his cheek. He clings to her touch, closing his eyes as he tries to memorize her warmth. From each little detail of the texture of her skin, to the way her palm embraces him. 

“So similar…” she says, releasing a quiet chuckle. “My dear…I hope this becomes a happy memory for you.”

Soon after she says this, he feels the warmth of her hand fade away.

__

They had buried her in a secret garden of the hotel, one whose entrance was unknown to every resident except Polendina. Though the feeling had started to consume him once Antonia passed, grief had overwhelmed P as soon as the funeral had finished. 

“I understand how you felt about your husband now,” he says to Belle. “It feels so…empty.”

“I know,” she says, consoling him. “I’m sorry about Antonia. But remember what you told me back then?”

“All we can do is go forward.”

“That’s right.”

“I said that so easily back then.”

He feels foolish.

“I didn’t realize it’d be so hard.”

Belle nods her head, solemnly. 

“It will take time. But it is said that time heals all wounds.”

“How much time?”

“I…that I don’t know.”

__

Back in the lobby, everyone continued with their usual business. However, with the events of today, there was a noticeable air of gloom and discomfort. It was affecting P heavily, and he didn’t know if he wanted to go back to the Abbey just yet. 

“You should take a little break, Pal,” Gemini chirps. “We can afford a few moments.”

“Master Pinocchio.”

Polendina approaches from his station behind the front desk. 

“Polendina?” P asks. 

“My lady…she left a gift for you.” 

The puppet butler hands over a slip of paper. In addition, he gives P a brand new record. Normally, he’d be happy at receiving such a gift, as it would be another piece of music to add to the collection. However, he’s unsure of what to make of this record. What kind of music did Antonia leave behind for him?

He reads the slip of paper. Opening it, he can smell the sweet scent of cherries. 

To Carlo Pinocchio

Celebrate the memories you’ve made

And the many more you will make

He lingers on the crossed-out name. She knew Carlo…

A part of him wonders if she treated him so kindly because she thought he was him. But she referred to him with his own name during her last moments and even in this final message.

That…makes him happy. 

“Lady Antonia was a renowned pianist before being inflicted with the Petrification Disease,” Polendina says. “This song…she never released it to the public. If I remember correctly, she only made it for you. Or, maybe, it would be accurate to say she made it for the boy you were modeled after.”

“Antonia and Geppetto were good friends. Did she know Carlo because of that connection?”

“She would frequently visit the Monad Charity House to see him.”

How kind of her, P thinks. She and Carlo must’ve been close, most likely far closer than Carlo would’ve been with Geppetto. 

Before heading to the Gramophone, he turns to Polendina. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. 

In response, the puppet butler holds both hands over his chest. 

“It is like there is a void within my chest.”

 P sighs. 

“Me too. Let’s remember her…with this.”

After preparing the device, he places the record on top, and it spins…

A piano.

Humming.

Antonia.

As the song continues, he recognizes Antonia’s voice. So soft, gentle. Soothing, comforting, melancholic. And yet, she does not fully sing lyrics. Just humming an accompanying melody for the piano. 

The piano itself is so expressive, beautiful. The keys being played sound like they should be happy, but it all feels so sad. Not in a bad way, though. 

It’s more like…reminiscence. 

__

She plays alone. When she arrived, she was told that the young boy she came to see was still up in his room. So, to pass the time, she asked if she could stay in the music room and play on the Charity House’s piano. 

 She’s impressed by its quality. It’s almost as good as the one back at the hotel. Almost. The keys are a little heavy, making it difficult to smoothly play from one note to another. However, the sounds each key plays tells Antonia that this piano is being taken care of, and that’s all she needs to play. 

A creek from the door.

“Come on in,” she says. “I don’t mind an audience.”

Opening the door further, Carlo reveals himself, poking his head through the opening. A big smile forms on his face as he and Antonia’s eyes meet. Giggling, he rushes up to her, and Antonia welcomes him into an embrace. 

“Hello, my dear! How have you been?”

“I’ve been good, Auntie! I’m so happy to see you. I’ve missed you.”

“Me too.”

It’s only been two weeks since her last visit. They aren’t truly tied by blood. 

Nevertheless, they are family. 

Antonia shifts across the piano bench to allow Carlo enough room to sit as well. They smile at each other. 

Then, they proceed to play a song together. 

__

This was Carlo and Antonia’s song…

He tries to memorize the notes of the piano. He should try to play this later. 

Suddenly, a clatter. P looks towards the source of the sound. Polendina droops and his body slumps forward. An odd sight.

“Polendina?” P asks. 

Upon hearing his name, the puppet butler springs back to life. However, something is off. 

“Welcome to Hotel Krat,” he says, a faux preprogrammed joy in his voice. “How may I help you?”

P steps back. 

“Polendina, it’s me,” he says. “Pinocchio.”

He pauses, like he is checking for something within his memory system.

“I am sorry, sir. You do not seem to be in our list of guests. Would you like me to check you in right now? Please provide first and last name.”

P can’t believe what he is seeing right now. Why in the world is Polendina acting like this?

“Venigni!” 

He would know what to do. He manufactured the puppets.

The inventor comes to P’s aid quickly.

“What’s the matter?”

“Polendina. He’s acting strangely.”

“How so?”

The puppet butler looks towards Venigni and bows.

“Welcome to Hotel Krat. How may I help you?”

Seeing that, Venigni raises an eyebrow. 

“That’s…not good.”

He walks behind Polendina and looks closely at something behind his head.

“Ah, with your permission, may I perform a quick check up on your hardware?” the inventor asks. 

“You do not need my permission. Go right ahead.”

P watches as Venigni opens a hidden hatch in Polendina’s head, then proceeds to study its contents. After a few moments, Venigni learns what’s wrong. 

“How in the world was he able to do this himself?” Venigni asks out loud, closing the hatch. 

“So what is it?”

“He’s reset himself back to his original programming.”

Hearing that, P could only look in horror at the shell of the puppet butler. The Polendina he knows…is gone.

“Why…” he mumbles, as Polendina returns to his usual duties without a care in the world. 

It is like there is a void within my chest.

A realization. 

“...were you…that sad?” 

A gentleman who fell for a puppet, a lady in white who killed in the name of her sister, a mother who held her baby close, two soldiers who were partners through and through.

A king, longing for his beloved to return to him.

A puppet in love with a human. 

Love…can drive people to do many things. It can be beautiful, it can be painful. It can also be terrifying how far one can go. 

And P saw for himself just how far it could take anyone.

Chapter Text

He had delayed his climb of the Abbey 'til later in the evening. He wanted to continue soon after Antonia’s funeral was complete, but after Polendina…he really needed some time to gather himself. 

As soon as he had finished his respite, P gathered his urge to continue forth and transported himself back to the bridge he had fought Laxasia on. As he walks across the bridge, the stone beneath him crumbles slightly with each step, he hums the song Antonia had given him. He couldn’t be with her as long as he wanted, but now at least she is with him through that song. 

It’s like he can feel her touch by his side when he hums. 

The doors at the end of the bridge, leading into the next section of the Abbey, are red with knobs that look like roses. Up ahead is a different kind of room, he can tell. Pushing the doors open, he enters. 

Inside…is Sophia. 

She sits on a chair, but she is tied down and bound to it. Not by ropes or chains, but by a web of blue veins, growing out of her entire body, binding her to the floor and chair. Blue butterflies lie dormant across the web. 

“Save me…” 

Sophia’s voice is faint and hoarse, putting every ounce of strength she has left within her in speaking. 

“Oh god…” Gemini chirps, speechless at the mutated state of Sophia. “What do we do? How…can we help?”

P stares at the blue-haired woman, completely unsure of what to do. 

“Please…” she whimpers. “It hurts so much.”

The lamp’s light blinks rapidly, its usual green brightness dimming into a soft blue. 

“Maybe…we can still help her. If we let her live-”

“Gemini,” says P, shaking his head. “Look at her. There’s no way.”

He didn’t tell Gemini this before, but he already felt like he knew what Sophia truly wanted, ever since she met them back on the beach. 

Help me find peace

“Tell me, what do I need to do?” he asks her.

“Wait, are you going to…?” Gemini chirps.

He can see Sophia’s eyes glisten for a moment.

“If you take my ergo, I will be set free.”

He approaches, slowly, keeping his eyes on her. Just mere inches away, he stops. 

“Before I do, would it be alright if I spoke to you? I’m sorry…”

An ever so slight smile perks up on her mouth.

“Don’t be. I’m just…happy to see you.”

He needs to tell her this…

“Something bothered me ever since you told the truth. Why did you lie? Why me, of all the puppets whose ego was awakened? Both of those I wondered.”

A memory that isn’t his passes through his mind. A woman consoling a young boy.

“But I saw…you knew Carlo. You took care of him, practically raised him, right?”

Sophia remains silent, releasing a shaky sigh. 

“Did…you expect Carlo when you woke me up?”

“You were the only one who responded to my voice. Geppetto’s puppet…I knew you were more than that when I saw that you looked like him.”

She lets out a laugh, but it is frail.

“I could see him in you, every time I looked at you. But…as you grew, I knew. I always knew…you weren’t.”

His heart begins to pound. She still cared for him, despite that? 

“You were scared of sounding selfish. I understand now.”

He leans forward, raising his legion arm towards her heart.

“I hope you understand, though. I would’ve helped you…even if you told me the truth.” As he places his hand on her chest, a blue glow emits from her heart. 

“Because…you gave me life.”

A tear falls from Sophia’s eyes. 

“Thank you…so much. I will be with you, always.”

As the light from her ergo flows into P’s heart, Sophia’s body dissipates into blue light. Her soul drifts away, taking the form of small butterflies. Soon, P stands alone in the room.

But his chest…it feels so heavy. His vision grows dark, the world starts fading in and out. 

“What’s…”

He falls, leaning on the velvet chair Sophia had sat on moments ago. 

“Why do I feel so-”

He drops to the floor.

“P? Pinocchio!”

The lamp’s chirps become a distant echo as his consciousness fades.

__

Darkness…

A piano…

Les fleurs de l’ombre

He rises from cold water…

Chantant seul sous la pluie

Ton souvenir est de lui

Someone takes his hand, guiding him upward. Opening his eyes, he sees blue from this dark void. Streams of light surround him.

Je te cherche dans mes

Souvenir fanées

Whose voice is that? Where is that music coming from? 

The light becomes a stream, flowing in an unknown direction. He follows it. 

Every step he takes, he floats. There’s no ground, only air. 

Mais je ne te vois plus croire

The piano and accordion halt. The stream disappears. 

Montre-moi la lumière.

He looks up. The voice sounds like it is coming from above.

Garde moi s'il te plaît

Like stars falling down from the night sky, a kaleidoscope of butterflies flutters above. One glides down to him, her wings a light shade of blue. The instruments resume.

Sort moi de cette obscurité écrasante

He reaches up to her with a single finger. As soon as they touch, she disappears, becoming a path of light. He follows it. 

Montre-moi la lumière

Garde moi dans ton cœur

Je me languis de toi

Et je m'endors encore seul ce soir.

At the end of the path, the butterflies surround him, circling, dancing. He reaches for a few, but they disappear from his grasp. 

The sound of a guitar joins with the array of instruments already playing. The butterflies move faster with the steadily increasing pace of the music. As they do, the butterflies combine, forming into a translucent figure, and she reaches for his hand. He reaches back.

Montre-moi la lumière.

Garde moi s'il te plaît

Once he grabs her hand, the figure’s ethereal, transparent figure solidifies, allowing him to clearly see her face and body. He recognizes her, as her blue hair falls past her shoulders. Extending from her back are the wings of the blue butterfly he was reaching for earlier. 

Sort moi de cette obscurité écrasante

Unknown to him, he is now caught in a dance with her. As they sway with the music, their hands perfectly grasped to one another, he learns she is the one who is singing. 

Montre-moi la lumière

Garde moi dans ton cœur

A step to the left, to the right. Up, down. 

A waltz.

Je me languis de toi

Et je m'endors encore seul ce soir.

As the verse ends, she slowly lets go of both of his hands. She drifts away into the darkness, her face fading from view. He tries to reach for her once again.

But before he realizes it, he finds himself falling once more into the water he had risen from. This time, however, it is no longer cold, a freezing prison.

This time it is warm, an embrace.

__

Light…

A piano…

“P? P, please be alright.”

Gemini’s chirps rouses him from his sleep. P stands up from the floor, clenching his head. As he gets up, the lamp chirps ecstatically.

“Oh thank god! You’re okay!”

“Gemini…” he groans. “What happened?”

“You were passed out for a while. A couple minutes, I mean, but I was worried!”

He was asleep? But that’s not right. He was awake. He’s sure of it. 

“The butterflies…didn’t you see them?” 

“Uh…what do you mean?”

“There was blue light everywhere, and butterflies, and…music.”

“ Montre-moi la lumière.”

That song…

He looks towards the voice. All he sees is a gramophone, playing a record. 

“Was this always playing?” he asks out loud. 

“No, it started when you fell asleep,” answers Gemini.

“But I saw the singer…”

“What do you mean, Pal? You keep saying all this stuff but you were literally on the floor.”

The lamp chirps, its light brightens suddenly. 

“Wait a moment. Pal, were you…dreaming?”

Dreaming…

Wait, puppets don’t dream. Whenever P falls asleep, it’s only a state of unconsciousness until the next day. But all of those things he saw…

He shakes off the thought, deciding to worry about that later. He stops the gramophone from playing the record, deciding to collect it himself. Something catches his eye as he does so.

His hair falls forward into his vision. 

It is…white. He grabs a strand and pulls it closer to his vision. In the corner of his eye, he notices a mirror. 

Seeing his reflection, he now can see his new appearance fully. His hair, once a dark brown, is now a silvery white. His eyes grow wide towards the change. 

“Gemini, are you seeing this?” he asks. 

“See wha-?” the lamp stops mid sentence and chirps as he realizes what P meant. “I…didn’t even realize. Wait, when did your hair change?”

He doesn’t know. Was it like this when he woke up? 

As he looks closer, there’s a couple more changes he’s starting to notice in addition to the obvious hair-color change. He’s gotten taller, and he’s even filled his clothes more. Before, they had fit him alright, aside from a sleeve falling over his hands occasionally. But now, with his shoulders broader, he fits them perfectly. 

Although the changes are something to awe at, the fact they even happened in the first place causes some concern to arise from him. He’s not supposed to change like this. To grow physically is something only a human can do. He felt this way when his hair first got longer. But with all of these additional changes…

“Should I…even call myself a puppet anymore?” he wonders out loud, to which the lamp chirps and blinks. 

“Well, you’re definitely not just any old puppet now. That’s for certain.” 

Sophia had said his ergo had become something more human once. She had even implied learning more about humanity to him once. 

P looks towards the chair she had sat in previously. He feels his heart, beating slowly, warm and comforting. Sophia’s ergo is within him, and he can feel her presence even now. He wraps his hands in the form of a prayer, sending a message to the beyond.

“Sophia…you gifted me this. I know you thanked me for saving you, but really…I should thank you. Please continue to guide me until the end.” 

The prayer ends. He continues from the room into another chamber of the abbey. A stairway greets him. He still has a ways to go it seems. 

There’s still one person he has yet to see during his climb to the top. His heart tenses up and he clenches his fist at the thought of him. He clings to the necklace Romeo had worn and takes a deep breath. 

Then, he walks on. 

__

Once he meets his father, what is he to do exactly? Confront him about the truth, yes. But how is he going to handle it? He’d have to show Geppetto he’s furious with him. How is that old man to request him to be a good boy who tells no lies when he himself is a liar? If anything, P’s become disappointed in himself. He should’ve suspected Geppetto was hiding something in the first place. 

His thoughts are interrupted as he hears movement up ahead. He readies his weapon for whatever is waiting for him around the corner. 

“Come on, let’s go,” he hears a familiar voice say. 

Turning into another hall, P is met with the Red Fox and Black Cat. They looked like they were in a hurry before meeting him. The Cat walks forward, but the Fox stops her brother from stepping further. Instead, she stands in front of him and awkwardly bows before P. 

“Ah, Bello,” she says. “It’s been a while since we saw each other.”

Greeting him so politely despite attacking the hotel…it ticks him off in a way he didn’t think was possible for him. 

“Did you do something with your hair? It looks refined on you.”

“Cut the act.” He points his weapon towards her. “Where is Geppetto?” 

She holds her hands up. 

“Okay, I know you’re mad about what happened.”

“You put my friends in danger and kidnapped my father. Although the latter is more of a major inconvenience, I can’t really let the former slide so easily.” 

“Listen, I only want what’s best for my brother. Manus…he promised to create a cure out of the Gold Coin Fruit you had given me. But whatever he did, it did absolutely nothing.”

She sighs. 

“I’m so tired of his antics. We were just on our way to leave this place.”

P still holds his weapon towards the Red Fox’s chest. He may have helped her before, but he truly can’t afford another slip up. The Black Cat steps aside from his sister, causing P to change his target.

“Don’t think I’m not noticing you, Cat.”

“I’m just wanting to speak with you.”

“Brother…”

“Please, let me.”

The siblings stare at one another, the Cat placing a hand on his sister’s shoulders. It was only then that she allowed him to step forward. 

“Listen. Before, you really did help us, and I’m grateful for that. But back then, when you  gave us some fruit, the only reason why my sister asked you for help is because I asked her first.”

P’s steadiness slows. 

“Why would you put that much trust in me…when you double-crossed me beforehand?”

“We didn’t,” the Fox says. “That’s why we bartered you with the battery.”

“Oh…that’s right. Tch, but even still, why me?”

“You’re the only other person we could turn to.”

He’d be lying if he said their words aren’t slightly convincing him. Still, he can’t falter. They still attacked the hotel. He needs to be prepared for any tricks they have prepared. Thus, his weapon remains facing them. The Fox takes another step forward.

“If…if we tell you where your father is, will you let us pass?” 

Something inside him breaks.

“I could care less about Geppetto! I…I just learned that he’s a liar, a hypocrite!”

The stillness of the arm that holds his weapon begins to tumble, shake. 

“I…how…can I trust you now when I can’t risk you hurting anyone else?”

The siblings look at one another, the Cat shaking his head. But the Fox sighs and looks back to P. She raises her hands to her head, touching her mask. P and the Cat gasp at what she does next. She removes her mask and unties the bun of her hair. 

Instead of the Red Fox, in her place is a woman whose brunette hair falls past her shoulders and her eyes, a sharp amber, pierce into P’s gaze. 

“Sister…”

“It’s fine.” She throws her mask to the ground. “The Stalkers, Sweeper or Bastard, all went to shit after Krat fell.”

She unsheathes her sword and throws it away as well, but this time at P’s feet. He steps back in shock. 

“My name is Claudia, a former member of the Volfe family.” As she speaks, her expression remains placid, and her eyes remain in contact with P’s. “I…only wish for a better life for me and my brother. He deserves more than to be some Alchemist’s lapdog, especially when the pay isn’t even worth the effort.”

The Black Cat, still shocked at his sister’s unmasking, sighs and proceeds to unmask himself as well. At this point, P’s guard lowers immensely. He can’t believe what he’s looking at right now. The Cat reveals his face, a young man who has grown the scales of the petrification disease across his right eye. 

“I’m…” the man hesitates to continue, “I’m Lucio.”

“We don’t care if you trust us or not,” Claudia continues. “We just want to leave.”

Lucio holds Claudia’s hand, and they smile at one another. 

“He’s…the only family I have left. Even if…we’re not truly related by blood.”

A mother who loves her baby, even if it is just a doll. A woman who died in her sister’s name.

P’s heart beats, pounds within his chest. This sort of love…

“You’d go this far for him…?” 

The hand which holds his weapon falls to his side, and he picks up Claudia’s sword. Approaching her, P returns the Red Fox her weapon. She tilts her head towards the gesture.

“You know,” she accepts the weapon, “I could easily attack you like this.”

“I know you won’t now,” he says. 

She laughs then searches for something in her coat’s pocket. She takes out a key and hands it to P.

“This is the key to Geppetto’s cell.” She points to a door behind her, a few feet down the hall. “He’s just behind that door. I swear that he’s unharmed. My employer promised as much.”

“Th-thank you.” He lowers his head. “Go.”

“Come along, Brother.”

He hears Claudia and Lucio proceed to walk away, but he suddenly turns around towards them. 

“Wait a minute!” 

He searches his pockets. After finding what he needed, he tosses six pieces of gold coin fruit to the Red Fox. As she catches them, she gasps.

“But…this didn’t do anything before.”

“You just didn’t find the right person to make a cure. Back at Hotel Krat, there’s this man named Giangio. He’s usually around in the garden with the Gold Coin Tree. Go to him, and he’ll make a guaranteed cure for Lucio.”

Lucio and Claudia look towards P, astonished. The Red Fox laughs and smiles as she puts the fruit in her pouch.

“You have my gratitude. I’d be happy…to call you a friend.”

“Same here.” Lucio bows his head. 

“I’ll let my friends at the hotel know that you’re okay to stay there for the time being.”

With that, the Fox, the Cat, and the (former) puppet say their goodbyes. P stands before the door at the end of the hallway. He clenches the key that was given to him a moment ago. He can finally confront Geppetto about the truth. 

As he opens the door, he can feel his heart racing.

My only wish is that you stay a good boy. No resentment, no lies

Remain a good boy…to me.

“Father,” he mumbles under his breath, trying to prepare himself for what to say. “Whatever reasons you had, I hope I'll still be able to forgive you.”

Chapter Text

“Father?”

P enters the next room, a small corner with a couple of cells for prisoners. Peeking through each one, he sees no signs of his father yet. 

“Son? Is that you?” A voice calls from the last cell. P walks over to it and between the bars he sees Geppetto. 

“Oh, I’m so happy to see-” The old man’s blissful voice stops as he takes notice of P’s new appearance. “What has happened to you?”

“None of your concern,” P answers, unlocking the cell with the key Claudia had given him. 

“As your father, I believe it is.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

He won’t speak of Sophia, not with Geppetto at least. He enters the cell and looks over the old man. 

“You are unharmed?”

“Don’t worry. They didn’t do anything to me.”

“Why did they take you away then?”

“Likely as a way to lure you out to the Isle. But we can use this to our advantage. If you were able to make it this far, you could take out Simon now.”

Right, he could. But that’s not his concern at the moment. He needs to confront Geppetto about his actions. 

A fleeting moment of fear, a rising tension in his chest. It falls down to his stomach. He recognizes this as the same feeling he felt back when he gave Geppetto Carlo’s portrait. He can’t let himself be stopped by it. 

“Son, what’s wrong?”

He feels disappointed in himself that he allowed his father to notice his anxiety.

“I…I know what you did. You controlled the Puppet Frenzy.”

“Who told you that?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

He can’t bring himself to mention Romeo. Geppetto crosses his arms and looks away from P. 

“You lied…about everything. So, tell me the truth. Did you make me so that I’d be the one to clean up your mess? Was that all I am to you?”

“Son.”

“Your errand boy? Your lapdog?” A force builds up in his fist. It must be released. 

“Your…puppet?!” 

“Son!”

He looks up, finding that a mark had been made under his fist on a brick wall of the cell. It looks like he was a few inches away from where Geppetto was standing. He had made that mark with his legion arm. 

He could’ve easily injured his father or worse if he hadn’t missed. Geppetto stares at him, his glasses crooked on his face. 

“I’m…I’m sorry.” He wants to punch himself right now. 

“It’s alright, Son.” The old man readjusts himself, sighing. “We all experience a tantrum at least once in a lifetime. But I won’t dismiss your feelings. Yes, it’s true. I caused the Frenzy. But…it was all for a good cause.”

“What good does killing thousands do for you?”

It feels sick having to ask that in the first place.

“I’ll explain…but there is some work left to be done.”

“So you’re just going to send me on another mission, no explanation? Again?”

“This will be the last time. Manus is the only one keeping the Alchemists together. You still need to stop him. Do so, and that will give me plenty of time to explain everything.”

“Fine.” He turns around to leave the cell. 

“There is a relic called the Arm of God.”

He stops. What’s this about a relic?

“Manus uses that as the source of his power. Retrieve that relic and meet me at the basement of the Abbey. There is an elevator at the top that you can use to traverse there.”

“And if I give you this relic, will you then tell me everything?”

“Of course.”

In that case, he shouldn’t waste any more time. 

“Son.”

He sighs. Now what?

“I know I’ve been a terrible father. Bringing you into a broken world. Sending you into danger. But I do want to make up for everything I’ve done. After this, we can be a real family. It’s what you deserve.”

Family…it’s a concept he hasn’t been able to grasp or learn very well during his existence. 

“Would…you like that?” 

He won’t lie that he is curious about what ‘family’ could be. But with Geppetto, his creator, the only status that can give him the title of father…

“Yes.”

It’s a wonderful idea. But though he tells himself that, he knows that deep within his heart, he feels hollow towards it.  

__

“Be careful of Geppetto, Boy,” Manus says, his body fading away into spores of ergo, with only the Arm of God remaining. 

P isn’t sure what to make of Manus’s words. However, he sets those thoughts aside as he takes a deep breath. He had just defeated the Alchemists’ leader. All the atrocities they could’ve caused have now been stopped. He retrieves the Arm of God from its place on the ground. All that’s left to do is to meet Geppetto in the basement of Arche Abbey. 

The elevator Geppetto had mentioned earlier is a platform embedded into the floor. A few minutes pass as P rides it down. A few seconds pass, and the sight of rising concrete continues on and on. It’s only once a whole minute passes does it process in P’s head that this is a really long way down. 

“So…what do you think the Old Man wants?” Gemini chirps, breaking the tense silence. 

“Who knows,” responds P. 

“He did mention he wanted to make up for everything.”

“To be a real family…”

P has a very loose idea of what a family is. Families can be made up of various types of people, he knows. A parent or two, a child, maybe some siblings, and whoever else is a part of it. But those are just the people that can make up a family. What P wonders about is how a family is  different from any other group of people. 

What do they do together? How do they live? How do they love? 

“Well, whatever Geppetto wants, I have a feeling it’s not gonna be easy to listen to,” Gemini says. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Manus did say to be careful of him. Now, I’m not saying that he’s a decent enough guy to look out for you. But I will admit that his warning shouldn’t be ignored.”

What kind of threat would Geppetto pose, P wonders. Yes, he caused the puppet frenzy. Yes, he lied. But aside from that, what other trick could he pull? P won’t falter in his defense, but he can’t help but question how his father could be more dangerous than he already is. 

“Whatever happens, Pal, I’ve got your back.”

Hearing the lamp, he smiles. 

To anyone else, Gemini may only be a lamp. 

“I’m happy that you are here, Gemini.”

But to P, he’s his guide and closest friend. 

The elevator continued to descend shortly after their conversation ended, and another moment passed before the air grew a bit too tight and uncomfortable as P and Gemini wonder ‘how far exactly does this thing go down?’. Fortunately, it had ended as soon as they began to question how much farther. 

The basement of the Abbey is empty, nothing but ruined stone and his father awaiting him at the center of the ring. Geppetto stands next to an odd looking box, and as P examines it from afar, he finds that it is more similar to what would be called a safe. As he approaches Geppetto, a part of him wants to question what is within it. But his father starts talking before he has the opportunity to say anything. 

“Son, I knew you could do it! Please, hand over the arm.”

P does so, and Geppetto sets it aside on top of the safe. 

“Now, we have everything we need.”

“If I may, Father, what exactly is it that you are planning to do with that?” 

Geppetto looks towards him, smiling and his eyes full of kindness. However, P noticed a twitch in his father’s demeanor. Everything about this…feels off. 

“It is to make your reward”

P tilts his head. 

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been such a good boy, and you shall be rewarded for your behavior. I can make you human.”

A thump in his chest. 

“I had waited for so long. With all of this ergo you have collected over your journey and the Arm of God, we finally have everything we need for this dream to be realized. But…there is still one thing that remains, one final ingredient.”

His father points to his chest.

“Your heart.”

He looks down and holds a palm over himself. Everything about this…feels wrong. 

“Why?”

“It contains your memories and ergo, after all. Give me your heart and your journey will be complete! You can be more than a puppet. You can be a real boy. We can be…a real family, like you want.”

He’s not looking towards Geppetto at all now. He stares at the ground. He doesn’t even look up to him as his father places his hands over his shoulders.Now that he thinks about it, when was the last time Geppetto had done so? 

The touch of a parent comforting their child, when was the last time he had felt that? 

His arm covered in red oil…no, blood. An old man smiles at him. He wipes away the blood. This is his…father? 

Was it really only since then? 

A theater, a play. Two puppets, one resembling his father, the other him. They perform. The former removes the heart of the latter. It then inserts the heart into a third. Slowly, the third puppet stands up from the chair it was sitting on, then poses. 

Applause. 

Pounding. His heart is pounding. 

“It all makes sense now,” he mumbles. “The frenzy, what Romeo was trying to tell me.”

He raises a hand up to where Geppetto’s are on his shoulders. 

“Father, you’re trying to bring Carlo back.”

He pushes away his father’s touch, stepping back immediately. His father stares in shock. 

“Where did you learn of that name?”

“I’ve learned a lot since you got kidnapped. About Carlo, how you left him at the Monad Charity House, how he died. And Romeo…why did you do that to him? You made me-”

“Son, it was all for you.”

Pounding. Rising. Tension. An exploding feeling. 

“Me? No, it was all for an ideal, perfect son. You want Carlo back? Whatever it is you want, it’s not even him! You…weren’t around for him, never got to know him!”

“Enough!”

The first time he heard him raise his voice. He takes another step back. Geppetto clears his throat. 

“I gave you a command, and you will follow it. Now be the good, obedient son I know you are.”

All puppets must follow their creator

Everything about this…

“No.”

He spoke with force, the kind of strength that had lied within him in small bouts, and it had finally released in full. 

“I am…disappointed in you.” His father sighs. “I thought I had finally created the perfect puppet to bring my son back.”

“Geppetto, you want a family, right? You still have a chance.”

He still wishes. He places a hand over his heart. 

“We…can be one.”

“Then give me your heart!”

“No! I am not and will never be Carlo or whatever it is that you want. I may not be him, but aren’t I still your son?”

Again, he still wishes. 

“All I can be is me. I’m Pinocchio. I’m a liar. I’m a killer. But…I love music.”

The sound of a piano .

“I love to sing, to dance.”

The sound of footsteps moving to the beat of a song .

“I have so many people to thank for letting me have that. If you can’t see or accept that, I refuse you.”

Geppetto looks away, clenching his fist. He turns around, facing the safe that lies on the floor. 

“Carlo always was a mischievous child. It seems you’ve inherited his personality more than his memories.”

He can’t believe what he’s hearing right now. What in the world is the old man talking about?

“You know, I did grow to love you in a different way. You’re the puppet that would bring my son back to life. But it seems I’ll have to resort to backup.”

P watches as Geppetto kneels down towards the safe, opening it and taking out a glove. 

“I didn’t want it to come to this.” Strings protrude out of the glove’s fingers. “I…no. We will take back what is rightfully ours.”

The strings attach to the object that lies within the safe, and as it rises from its place, P can feel a pit fall into his stomach. A rotting, sickening corpse, puppeteered by the strings of Geppetto’s glove, faces P. It is missing its arm and legs, the limbs replaced by mechanical prosthetics. Where its face should be is instead a blank slate, though closer inspection would reveal that its sockets and mouth are sewn together, leaving trails of red blood. At the center of its chest is a heart just like P’s. 

Pinocchio shakes away the paralyzing feeling that had frozen his body from the sight of this puppet. He unsheathes his weapon, ready for a fight. 

“Son, get rid of the puppet.” Geppetto walks away from the ring, sitting himself on the very edge of the room. 

“Son?” P wonders out loud. 

Everything clicks, but he doesn’t have the time to process his thoughts as the puppet rushes towards him, swinging its sword. P dodges, running away from the relentless assault of his enemy. As he defends himself, he now recognizes why this puppet is missing its limbs. 

He feels numb, all feeling in the lower half of his body evaporated. He looks back.

Gone…they’re gone. His legs…

A blood-curdling scream, so full of fear he never thought he’d ever feel.

“You’re trying to cheat death!” P exclaims, guarding against the puppet Carlo. “Geppetto! You’re no better than the Alchemists!”

“How dare you compare me to them!” Geppetto tightens the fist of his gloved hand, causing Carlo to swing a heavier attack towards P. 

He loses his balance trying to guard against such an attack, and he finds himself fallen onto the ground. As Carlo prepares another swing, an idea pops into P’s head. He watches the strings that control each of Carlo’s limbs. 

If he were to cut them…

P, recovering from the ground, prepares his strike. 

They rush towards each other. A clash. A swing. One misses, the other does not. P looks back towards Carlo. A wave of relief washes over him as he sees that he was successful in cutting each string in one slash. But that relief disappears quickly for the result of his success wasn’t what he was expecting. 

The top of Carlo’s head had also been cut from P’s swing. Once it falls to the ground, Carlo releases a sound, a deep rumble that should’ve been a scream, that shakes the ring. P watches as Carlo splits his sword into two, now wielding dual blades, then quickly dodges as he continues his assault. 

“Disobedient puppet!” Geppetto exclaims from the other side of the ring. His glove had lost all power once P had cut the strings. 

All of this rage and hatred…P can feel it all from within Carlo. If he is now acting out of his own will, P wonders what he must be thinking now. 

I hate you Father. 

That must be where his anger resides, and P can’t blame him. Though Carlo may be releasing his anger on him, P thinks there’s another reason for that.

Father was trying to replace me with you. I hate you.

He wishes he could talk to him right now. 

__

‘Carlo…’

“Close your eyes…come to me.”

The lullaby of a mother who loves her child.

‘...I think I should apologize to you.’

“To be good is to act out of the goodness of your heart ”

The melody of the reformed sinner.

‘You never wanted this. Never wanted to die, to come back as you are, to be controlled by Geppetto…’

“Don’t be shy! Dance with me!”

Spinning, swaying, stepping. His first dance. 

‘And I’m sure when you see me, you must be even more disturbed.’

“Je te rencontree simplement…”

He felt so light, so free. He wishes to sing some more.

‘Even if you do hate me, I don’t hate you.’

“I knew you were a true friend! So generous!”

To love one another as family, despite not even being tied by blood, is something he ponders the most.

‘In fact, I think I should thank you, even if it is selfish.’

“I would do anything to go back.”

A song so beautiful yet haunting. He had finally learned how to waltz that night.

‘Because of you, I am able to be.’

“Thank you…for telling me the truth.”

The one time he did, he was happy it turned into something good. 

‘This wasn’t the right time to be born. Still, I experienced, I grew.’

“Carlo…I love you.”

His heart still beats for him, even if he can’t call those feelings his own. Nevertheless, they are a part of him.

‘I saw, I learned, and it’s all thanks to you.’

“Make sure to make plenty of memories.”

He will. He still needs to play a song on the piano.

‘So…thank you, Carlo.’

“I will be with you…always.”

He can still feel the Blue Fairy, her wings fluttering as they brush against him with the wind. 

‘Thank you…for letting me be…me.’

__

Whatever had occurred during the fight in the last couple minutes or so, none of it had been processed by P. It was all a disarraying pattern of hits or dodges, like a discordant dance that did not have rhyme or rhythm. At some point, however, his mindlessness had been broken as he realized that he had been disarmed. His weapon had been tossed out of his hand by Carlo during a sloppy block against an attack. 

The next thing he knew, he was on the floor, defenseless, open for an attack. He looked up, Carlo was preparing to jump on him, his sword directly pointing for his heart. P shut his eyes, prepared for the worst.

But…nothing happened. He slowly opens his eyes, he sees the tip of Carlo’s blade soaked in blood. He sees Geppetto impaled.

“Were you…going to destroy…Carlo’s heart?” The old man is barely able to speak as blood pours from his mouth, choking his throat. 

Carlo…freezes. He looks towards his father, reaches an arm up to where he had pierced through his abdomen. He lowers his weapon, his father now kneeling on the ground. 

P takes this opportunity as Carlo’s guard is down. 

A charge, a punch with the left arm, piercing through the corpse’s chest. P struggles to release himself. A wave of energy rushes through him as he attempts to remove the other’s heart. 

“I…” A strained voice echoes through his mind.

He gasps. It’s a voice that sounds, or rather is his own. 

“I…only…wanted…him to…”

He leans against the corpse, retaining his grip on Carlo’s heart, and wraps his free arm over the other’s shoulder. 

He whispers.

“I’m sorry.”

P pushes Carlo away, ripping his heart out. The corpse falls on its back, lifeless. He crushes the mechanical heart with his legion arm then keeps his eyes on Carlo. A cold brushes past him. He looks back towards Geppetto, now hunched over from the pain of the impalement. 

He lowers himself to the ground, now holding Geppetto in his arms. 

This is the man who started it all. His father, who caused a frenzy that killed thousands, who ordered him to kill one he could’ve called a friend, who had rejected him as a son and only viewed him as a puppet in the end. 

And yet…

__

The old man, through his fading vision, can only watch as a single tear falls along Pinocchio’s cheek. 

Everything he thought of his creation melted away. 

He sighs as he realizes he had been a fool.

“I’m sorry, Son.”

__

When he returned to the top of the Abbey, he was met with the sun at the peak of the pink sky. In front of him is the sight of Krat, the collapsing city, not too far off of the horizon. 

A chirp. He removes Gemini from his belt and holds him with both hands.

“You okay, Pal?” the lamp asks, a faded green barely visible through its shell. 

“...I could be better.” Pinocchio wipes away a remaining tear. 

“It’s gonna be alright.”

He hopes it will be. He looks back up towards the horizon. A new sight meets his gaze. A blue butterfly daintily flutters by, leaving behind a trail of blue light. 

A faint pounding in his chest.

“I…still have something left to do.”                                                                                                                                                                                         

Chapter Text

When P had returned to the hotel, it was during a cloudy night with a chance of rain. He came back holding the bodies of Geppetto and Carlo, a shocking sight to the remaining residents of Hotel Krat. 

“They should be buried,” he had said, and they were. Using the same secret garden they had buried Antonia, the father and son were put to rest there as well. 

Of course, before burying them, P had to explain everything that had happened to Eugenie, Venigni, and Belle. The blacksmith was shaken by the truth, as was the inventor, although P noticed a hint of sadness and disappointment in Venigni’s demeanor. Belle, though also surprised by the news, didn’t have as close of a relationship with Geppetto and thus couldn’t care as much. 

After the burial, there was even more to catch everyone else up on. There were questions about P’s appearance and him allowing the Red Fox and Black Cat to stay at the hotel. 

For the former topic, P waved it off, saying that it was just another change that came with him becoming more human. As for the latter, he couldn’t just ignore the topic as easily. 

The siblings had arrived a couple hours ago, and though the others were weary of their appearance, they were given a heads up of their arrival by P before they arrived. So, although they wouldn’t want them to stay, the residents knew the siblings had some sort of relationship with P and agreed to tolerate them for their friend’s sake. He soon found Claudia standing in front of the Gold Coin Fruit Tree.

“How is Lucio?” he asked.

“The man Giangio is treating him as we speak,” she says. 

“Did he tell you of the possible side effects of the cure?”

Her eyes droop.

“Yes. What should I do if…he doesn’t make it?”

He remembers the fear he experienced when Antonia was first given her cure. 

“I can’t really answer that question for you. However, I think it would be better to wonder what you should do when he does.”

“Quite the optimist, are you?”

“Lady Antonia had gone through the same thing as Lucio. I…felt the same thing you are feeling right now. But she was able to make it, and she was able to live the rest of her life in peace.”

“That woman…I remember her during the attack on the hotel. Well, if she was able to live peacefully, maybe my brother will be able to as well.”

He nods towards her, assuring her that everything will surely go right. 

“Sister!” 

They look towards the shed that Giangio resides in. Running out from the shed, the young Lucio rushes forwards, embracing Claudia. Surprised, she looks at his face. Laughter bursts out of her and the overwhelming joy she feels builds up into tears as she sees Lucio’s face cleared of the Petrification Disease’s scales. 

P smiles at the sight, but soon leaves the garden to allow the siblings some time to themselves.

__

“Eugenie, Venigni. Could I ask you two for a favor?”

“Anything, Compagno.”

“What is it?”

“Would both of you be able to create a puppet that looks like Sophia?”

The two look at each other, piqued by P’s request. 

“Well, there are some spare parts in Geppetto’s workshop,” Eugenie says. 

“And I could make a brief trip to the factory for any other supplies,” Venigni replies. “But P, this is a rather strange and sudden request. Why exactly do you want such a thing?”

From Sophia’s request to setting her free, P reveals everything he needs to tell his friends. 

“I have an idea, though. Geppetto had placed Carlo’s ergo within me in an attempt to revive him.  That’s what’s powering my heart. But I have Sophia’s ergo as well. So, if I can transfer her ergo, there’s a chance she can come back!”

“But Geppetto’s attempts at resurrection weren’t completely successful. I mean, you’re not fully Carlo, are you?” Eugenie says. 

“I’m…not.”

“So, what if you transfer her ergo and she comes back as a different person?”

He didn’t really consider that scenario. There is a risk in reviving someone through puppetry. But he remembers Romeo. The King of Puppets was human before as well, and he was able to retain his memories. Two possibilities may occur, but that won’t stop him. 

“I-”

“I say that we should still help him!” Venigni boisterously exclaims. “Eugenie, Sophia was a kind soul. Based on what P has told us, don’t you think she deserves a second chance at life?”

“But as a puppet?”

“Her body disappeared once I retrieved her ergo,” P explains. “We wouldn’t be able to bring her back as a human. Besides, her original body was so…destroyed. I wouldn’t want to put her through that pain again.”

Eugenie adjusts her glasses as she listens to P’s stance. 

“Oh…alright. I’ll help you.”

He bows to the both of them in gratitude. 

Sophia gave him life. It’s the least he can do to repay her. 

__

It had taken a week for Eugenie and Venigni to complete Sophia’s puppet replica. Though both of them are mechanical geniuses, neither of them were able to recreate Geppetto’s brilliance in creating P to be as human-like as possible. So, although Sophia certainly looks like Sophia, with a similar figure as she had as a human and the same blue hair, the outer shell of her body will have to remain the white coat that many other puppets have. 

In the state the puppet replica is in, it looks like Sophia if she were asleep. 

“She’s all set to go,” Venigni says. “Are you going to transfer her ergo now?”

“No,” P answers, picking the puppet body up with both hands. “I…want to awaken her somewhere where it is safe.”

“But the hotel isn’t dangerous,” Eugenie says, confused. “Wait a minute. You’re not going to do anything weird with the puppet are you?”

“What would I do with her?”

“Eugenie.” Venigni shakes his head disapprovingly. “Just let him do as he wishes. We’ll see you later, P. Good luck.”

He nods as he heads over to the Hotel Stargazer. 

__

Arche Abbey stands abandoned. All of the Alchemists were either slain by P or had gone missing. Although waking Sophia back in Krat is an option, her puppet isn’t as lifelike as he was when he was just a puppet. It didn’t take long for survivors of the Krat Disaster to start restoration of the city. Now that the process has started, there’s been common talk of lingering fear of puppets and the slow distribution of the cure for Petrification Disease. The former topic has P worried about what would happen if Sophia is seen in her new body. Waking her in a place far from Krat simply felt like the safest option. 

He had teleported to the top of the Abbey, and now he is searching for a good spot to put Sophia down.

“So, Pal,” Gemini chirps. “What do you hope is going to happen when you bring Sophia back?”

“Well, I hope she is herself.”

“Right, obviously.”

“What about you, Gemini?”

“I’m hoping the same as you!”

The lamp chirps again, but P notices a shrillness in its sounds. 

“Is something wrong?”

“I just…” the lamp sighs, “...what if something bad happens? I mean, you’re trying to do what Geppetto did with Carlo, right? Bringing someone back from the dead?”

“You’re trying to cheat death! Geppetto! You’re no better than the Alchemists!” 

He releases a half-hearted laugh. 

“I was so angry at him. But…here I am. I guess that makes me a hypocrite.”

“It’s okay, Pal. It’s just another part of being human, I guess. But let me tell you this: unlike Geppetto, I think your heart is in the right place with Sophia’s revival. So, don’t put yourself on the same level as him.”

Gemini’s words comfort P. He starts to feel lighter at his friend’s reassurance. 

It doesn’t take long for him to find a balcony with the perfect seat for Sophia to awaken on. He places her on a stone bench, facing her away from the rising sun’s horizon. Her puppet limps and leans forward as she is seated. She looks so cold, P thinks. It’s a good thing he found a spare coat for her in the room he found her in. 

He wraps the blue coat, its sleeves and tail long, around her shoulders. He thinks she looks much more comfortable now. There’s only one thing left to do now. 

He unhooks Gemini from his belt, setting him next to Sophia on the bench. 

“P?”

“Neither of us know what will happen once I transfer her ergo. So, in case anything was to happen to me, could I ask you to look after Sophia?”

“Pal, come on! You’re acting as if this will be the last time we’ll see each other.”

The lamp’s light flickers.

“You…don’t think something that bad could happen, could you?”

“I’m not sure. That’s why I want to make sure you’ll be okay.”

“...”

A slow string of chirps emits from the lamp. 

“Pinocchio, if anything does happen, you can count on me to take care of Sophia.” He nods and thanks Gemini once he hears this. 

There are countless possibilities that could occur as a consequence of reviving the Blue Fairy. He’s been thinking about all of them during the week Eugenie and Venigni spent building the puppet. One of the worst-case scenarios he imagined involved him not being conscious, alive, after everything is said and done. 

Still, it’s a risk he’s willing to take if she gets to live. 

He kneels down to the ground, holding his chest with his right arm as he reaches for Sophia’s ergo within him. A blue light emits from within him, and as it is released, he holds it gently. It feels as light and as fragile as a butterfly. Carefully, he reaches out to the puppet, holding the ergo up to where her heart lies. 

His eyes begin to feel heavy as the transfer is complete. The beating in his heart begins to slow, as an immense weight is freed from his body. It’s not just Sophia’s ergo he had released. Every spring, cog, and gear within him he can feel begin to slow down. 

“I will be with you…always.”

He wishes he would be able to see her awaken with his own eyes, just as she had with him. Though he resists for a moment, he does not fight the urge to fall for long. As he is overwhelmed by this unknown yet comforting sensation, he closes his eyes…and falls. 

__

It’s strange. 

He feels like he is falling, in an air of complete nothingness. And yet, because he knows there is nothing, it's all the more stranger when he feels someone catch him, and they begin to rise. He opens his eyes.

Curious. 

A young boy holds his hands. He instantly recognizes this boy. 

His short, brown hair waves and flutters, though there isn’t any wind in this void they find themselves in. Small, pinecone-colored eyes stare towards him. It’s difficult to label his expression. The way his lips curve slightly imply shock, but his eyes droop deeply. 

Pinocchio wants to speak, but he just can’t find the right words to say. Should he apologize? Should he thank him? 

As he opens his mouth to try and speak, the boy shakes his head. He watches as the boy’s lips perk up into a closed smile and he tilts his head playfully. He is unsure what to make of the boy’s mannerisms. Before he knows it, something begins to change. 

Before Pinocchio’s eyes, he sees the boy grow, aging into an older child and then an adolescent. His freckles are more prominent, his hair a little longer. 

Reminiscence. The other boy now looks like how Pinocchio once did when he first awakened. However, he is confused at the sudden change. Before he could have time to question it, the boy begins to release his hold on Pinocchio’s hands. 

This time, he is the one rising, and the boy is the one falling. He tries to hold on. He hasn’t said what he’s wanted yet. The boy widens his eyes, surprised at Pinocchio’s effort to try and hold on. So, he smiles once more, this time reaching his eyes, and he holds a hand to his heart. 

Pinocchio notices this gesture. He frowns. Is this really okay? The other boy notices his worry. He nods. If that is so, then he must let go. 

And he does. 

As the boy slowly falls away, his light dimming in this vast nothingness, Pinocchio now knows what he should say. 

“Goodbye…Carlo.”

The boy waves his hand and arm, bidding farewell as well. As he fades away, he laughs, a sound so light and pleasant. 

__

Light. Warmth. Comfort. 

Someone holds him in their arms as he lies down along his back. 

A chirp. 

“Hey! I think I saw him move!” 

A familiar voice. He slowly opens his eyes, but he briefly catches the glimpse of a cricket jumping away from him. As he awakens, trying to shake away the drowsiness, he looks up to see a girl with blue hair smiling down towards him. She lets out a sigh of relief. 

“It’s so good to see you,” she says, holding her palm to his face. 

“Sophia…?”

She nods then looks towards the cricket that sits upon her shoulder. The cricket hops playfully. 

He sits up slightly and leans forward into her torso as he wraps her arms around her. 

An embrace. A reunion. 

__

The hotel lobby is empty when he returns. Polendina explained that Venigni, Eugenie, and Belle had to attend to matters assisting in the restoration of Krat. The puppet butler assured him, however, that they would return later in the evening. Claudia and Lucio, however, have already left the hotel, leaving behind a letter that they have begun seeking a new life for themselves. It seems that Giangio has left as well, and another goodbye note is placed on top of his work desk. P assumes that he has gone to share the cure for the Petrification Disease to the rest of Krat’s surviving citizens. He decides to read Giangio’s note later. 

“Well, what now Pal?” Gemini chirps. 

He’s not sure. Since Sophia has been revived with seemingly no issues, she is now staying at Arche Abbey until Krat has better affirmed with itself what to do with any remaining puppets, especially ones that are no longer bound to the Grand Covenant. 

At first, P wanders around the hotel, biding time until his friends return. Then, he finds himself in the library, staring at the piano. He plays a couple notes before he sits himself down on its bench. 

“Whenever I played…I’d play from the heart. In you, I see someone beautiful, kind. Thus, I know you’ll make…beautiful music.”

Could he…

He takes a deep breath, listening to the steady beats of his heart. He wishes for them to guide his rhythm. 

Delicately placing his fingers along the black and white keys, he settles on them as they dance up along the board. Then, he closes his eyes, continuing to listen to the song within him. It must be heard, it must be released, it is longing for that freedom. 

Then…he plays.