[Volume 2 | Chapter 49: Orion's Lioness]

June 20th, 418 E.V.

9:07 AM.

"A tie? Seriously?"

Acacia tugged at the offending strip of fabric cinched around his neck. He was absolutely certain that it was some sort of noose. The suit, tailored perfectly to his still-too-thin frame, felt like armor rather than clothing.

Stiff, formal, and deductively, not him.

"Leave it alone," Pandora instructed, batting his hand away from the knot for the third time in as many minutes. "You're not supposed to be comfortable. You're supposed to look respectable."

"I just got out of the hospital, woman! Why am I dressed up like I'm going to a funera—" He blinked suddenly. "Oh, god. This isn't a funeral, is it? Who died? Please tell me it wasn't the Emperor. I did NOT sign up for a coup d'état when I agreed to live with you!"

"It's going to be for your funeral if you don't stop whining, and for your information, you wouldn't be invited to any grand events, much less a coronation."

"You still didn't answer WHY I'm in this monkey suit!"

"Because," Pandora began exasperately, "when meeting the Viceroy of Orion, one doesn't simply show up in jeans and a t-shirt."

The Irregular paused his fidgeting, taking in Pandora's appearance for the first time that morning. The silver-haired ebony woman wore a dress—an actual dress of deep burgundy that accentuated elegant curves normally hidden by her Inquisitor uniform. The sight was so incongruous that he momentarily forgot about his discomfort.

"You're in a dress," he observed dumbly. "An actual, honest-to-god dress."

"As expected of Acacia Belmont, your wisdom exceeds your years."

"But... why?"

Something complicated flashed across Pandora's features—annoyance, resignation, and perhaps a hint of embarrassment.

"Because Viceroy Bismarck requested it specifically."

"And you actually listened?"

"When the second most powerful person in Orion makes a 'request,' even I must occasionally comply. Now, shall we go? Her Excellency doesn't appreciate tardiness."

They stepped outside into Windsor's crisp morning air, the massive windmills casting shadows across the street. Acacia had expected a government-issued vehicle—something sleek, black, and aggressively professional. What awaited them instead was a gleaming machine that looked more like a work of art than transportation. The automobile sat low to the ground as its metallic silver body caught sunlight like quicksilver. Curved geometric lines gave it an aerodynamic appearance while the interior glowed with soft blue light emanating from what could only be thaumaturgically enhanced controls. The SST logo, seven interlocking rings, adorned its hood.

"Is that... yours?" Acacia breathed, unable to conceal his awe.

Pandora's lips quirked upward.

"One of the perks of having Sirius Trafalgar consider you family. It's a Spectre GT, SST's latest model. Only twelve exist in the entire Empire."

"And he just... gave it to you?"

"He insisted it was a birthday present, though I only just now claimed it from the warehouse." She shrugged, though the casual gesture couldn't quite hide her appreciation for the vehicle. "I tried to refuse since I prefer my own speed, but Leila has been pestering me to accept it, so..."

She approached the driver's side, the door recognizing her presence and rising upward like a mechanical wing. Acacia remained frozen, studying the machine with a combination of fear and fascination. The Trafalgar fortune was legendary, but seeing its fruits manifested so concretely before him drove home just how far he'd come from Ocarina's dusty streets.

"Are you planning to stand there all day?" Pandora called, already settled into the driver's seat.

The question jolted him into motion. He approached the passenger door cautiously, half-expecting it to reject him as an intruder. Instead, it rose obediently, revealing an interior of soft black leather and gleaming instruments that reminded him of an airplane cockpit (from infographics) more than a car. Gingerly, he slid into the seat as the door closed behind him with a reassuring thud.

"I've never actually been in one before," he admitted quietly as he eased himself inside, though he had to still be mindful of his healing ribs. "An automobile, I mean."

"Never?"

"I think the IPA uses vans to transport prisoners, but I was unconscious for that particular joy ride. And before that... well, Irregulars in Ocarina don't exactly get invited to drive around in fancy vehicles, haha..."

His attempt at humor fell flat even to his ears.

Pandora said nothing for a long moment, expression unreadable. Then, without a word, she pressed a button on the center console, initiating a hum that resonated throughout the vehicle. It was a low, steady thrum that promised power, the machine coming to life beneath them.

"Facial and prana signature recognized: Kircheisen, Pandora. Rank 4. Authorization confirmed."

The car's disembodied voice was distinctly feminine; it had as pleasant a tone as a computerized system could possess.

"Northern Spire."

"Route calculated. Travel time: approximately seventeen minutes under current traffic conditions. Would you prefer manual or automated navigation?"

"Automated. Women can't drive." Acacia sneered.

"Manual," Pandora spoke louder.

"Manual drive engaged. Have a pleasant journey, High Inquisitor."

"Remind me to push you out of this at the next intersection." The ebony woman fixed the Irregular with a withering glare to which he merely stuck out his tongue and shrugged.

The engine's purr deepened to a controlled rumble as Pandora's hands wrapped around the steering wheel. With a gentle push forward, the vehicle pulled away from the curb, acceleratingso smoothly precision that Acacia nearly missed the transition from stationary to motion.

"That's... unreal," he breathed, watching Windsor's scenery begin to flow past the windows with increasing speed. The suspension compensated for every minute imperfection in the road, creating the sensation of floating rather than driving.

"Sirius incorporated several Enhancement spells into the chassis. Pretty sure it uses adaptive [Fließen] matrices to neutralize vibrations before they reach the cabin." Pandora explained, expertly dividing her attention between the road and her awestruck passenger.

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Acacia quickly absorbed the info like a sponge. His mind couldn't help but branch off to the implications of such technology.

"Can you imagine if we applied those principles to, say... a train? Or a hovercraft? Think of the stability during high-speed travel. Or if we—"

Pandora's laughter, rich and surprisingly warm, interrupted his stream of consciousness.

"I believe I'm beginning to understand why Sirius and Eleanor find you so amusing," she mused, her gaze briefly meeting his before returning to the road.

"...The hell is this? Why're you being so nice? Did I suffer brain damage or something?"

"Even I can be nice..." A defensive tone, though it lacked any real bite.

"I mean it, though," Acacia continued after a moment, curiosity overcoming the momentary awkwardness. "What's been happening while I was playing human pincushion? You went radio silent for nearly two weeks."

A smooth hum of the engine filled the silence as Pandora navigated through Windsor's curved streets. The sunlight flashed between buildings, casting alternating patterns of light and shadow across her face as she contemplated her response.

"I've been... rearranging certain pieces on the board. The Bloodhounds' attack provided an unexpected opportunity."

"... Opportunity? They nearly killed me, Elias, and Leila! What part of that spells 'opportunity' to you?"

"The part where their failure became public."

A smile—cold and calculating—ghosted across her lips.

"Windsor's telecommunications warehouse isn't just any infrastructure target, as I'm sure you know. It's a nerve center connecting every major government and civilian communication network in the province. When the Bloodhounds attacked it, they threatened the entirety of Orion's stability."

The car glided to a halt at an intersection, and Pandora turned to face him fully. It was those eyes he didn't want to see again, etched upon her face.

The eyes of a killer.

"And who was there to save the day? To defeat the head of one of the most notorious criminal syndicates in the West? To restore order when chaos threatened Windsor's heart?" She didn't wait for his answer. "High Inquisitor Pandora Kircheisen. The 'Colonial Upstart' who supposedly didn't deserve her rank."

"Y-You turned their attack into political capital?" Acacia cautiously deduced.

"Precisely. For years, certain elements within Windsor's administration have resisted my authority. They accepted my title but questioned my competence, attributing my rise to 'political correctness' rather than merit. Diversity for the sake of diversity, as they saw it."

"Because you're Thalassian... right? You weren't a domestic subject, like them."

"Not as bad as being an Irregular, certainly," Pandora acknowledged with a slightly bitter edge, "but enough to create friction. Particularly among the older conservative factions who believe positions of power should remain with 'pure' Tachyon bloodlines. Impure, mongrel, 'ape' blood has no place leading the Empire, according to their backward ideology."

"Pieces of shit." The Irregular spat, earning a brief look of agreement.

"Indeed. But now after single-handedly driving away Nemesis and his Bloodhounds, as well as him 'accidentally' dropping a note that holds the name of the base he uses to stockpile Luminance off the coast of the Empire, plus after saving hostages and preserving Windsor's critical infrastructure... well, even the most entrenched prejudice finds it difficult to argue with such indisputable results."

"Wait—" Acacia straightened in his seat as a memory surfaced. "When I was in the hospital, one of the nurses mentioned something about you receiving the 'Keys to Windsor.' That wasn't just a figure of speech, was it?"

"No. It's a ceremonial honor, granted by the mayor with Viceroy Bismarck's approval. But the practical implications are far more valuable—I have unrestricted access to every facility, every record, and every resource Windsor has to offer."

It was a perfect move.

"So, you manipulated the Bloodhounds' attack, solidifying your position and becoming indispensable to Windsor's leadership. With the city's keys in hand, you now have the center of Orion's economy at your discretion." He nodded to himself. Even if it resulted in him getting hospitalized twice, the results were undeniable.

"That's the gist of it. Now, every official and their mother wants to meet and thank me. I thank the Convergence every day that I have a spell that renders me unrecognizable to strangers." Pandora sighed deeply.

"What about the Bloodhounds? What happened to them?" The boy tentatively asked.

"Nemesis has been... neutralized. As have Malleus and Apollo."

"Neutralized how?" Acacia pressed. "Did you kill them? Imprison them? Send them on an all-expenses-paid vacation back to Desperado?"

Pandora's lips quirked at his sarcasm, but her eyes remained serious.

"I poisoned him."

"You... what?"

"Mercury isotope poisoning, specifically. Multiple variants simultaneously. Very difficult to treat without the antidote I provided." She spoke surgically, as if discussing the weather rather than a premeditated chemical assault. "Nemesis now works for me."

Acacia blinked. Three times for good measure.

"It required significant leverage, careful negotiation, and an extremely potent cocktail of mercury-based toxins that will kill him in approximately two weeks without a good healer." She paused at another intersection, the car's quiet hum underlining the stillness between them. "I've effectively placed a collar and leash around the neck of one of the world's deadliest assassins. The Bloodhounds now dance to my tune—and no one else's."

Acacia stared at the silver-haired woman beside him, suddenly struck by the vast gulf between the Pandora he thought he knew and the ruthless strategist who could outmaneuver someone like Siegfried Eisenberg.

The casual way she discussed poisoning a man, no matter how deserving, sent an involuntary shiver down his spine. He tried to suppress it, but Pandora caught the micro expression from the corner of her eye and offered a minor source of respite.

"Cagliostro's been neutralized for the time being as well. I made Nemesis terminate the contract via phone as I held him by... mercury point? Anyway, not having the Bloodhounds puts a significant vacuum in his plans." A satisfied smile tugged at her lips.

"So I'm safe? He can't send anyone else after me?"

"He can surely continue sending others after you, as inefficient as it would be. Regardless, I have to finish the job."

The blade called silence descended upon them.

Acacia ruminated for a long moment, but there was only one logical step forward.

"You're going to kill him."

Pandora's gaze snapped to him. For a fraction of a second, she seemed taken aback, as if surprised by his insight—or, perhaps more accurately, by his blunt acceptance of reality.

"Yes."

Her voice was soft, yet firm. Resolute.

The car fell silent for several minutes, the hum of the engine and the gentle rush of wind the only sounds filling the space. Windsor's business district gave way to more governmental structures. They were broader, whiter, more and imposing.

"There's something else," he drawled, a memory surfacing from that night in the warehouse complex. "When you were talking with Nemesis... I heard a name. Helen Vessalius. You ordered him to assassinate her. Who is she exactly?"

The temperature in the car seemed to drop several degrees.

When Pandora spoke, it was a cold fury that Acacia had never heard before—not even when she'd confronted Malleus and Apollo.

"Helen Vessalius is High General of the Imperial Legion and head of the House of Vessalius, one of the Three Ancestral Houses of the Sovereign Eight. She's also a war criminal, mass murderer, and exemplar of everything corrupt in the Empire's military establishment."

"And you want her dead?" The bluntness of his question hung in the air.

"What I want is justice. What I'll settle for is her removal from power by any means necessary." Pandora replied with deadly calm.

"That's... not an answer."

"It's the only one you're getting for now."

But Acacia Belmont had never been particularly good at recognizing when to back down.

"I think I deserve more than that, considering I almost died because of whatever game you're playing with her. What did she do to make you hate her this much? It's clearly personal."

"Why should I do that? Why should I divulge anything about my past when you won't even tell me yours?" Pandora coldly countered. "Just as you have multiple questions about me, I have multiple questions about you. However, I know when to ask and when to keep my mouth shut. Is the same to be said about you, Acacia Belmont?"

Acacia fell silent, the sting of truth in her words rendering him speechless.

Pandora merely sighed.

"We'll discuss everything in due time, I promise. But for now, this isn't a discussion to have en route to the Viceroy's headquarters. Just know that I have Nemesis under a leash, Cagliostro about to be dealt with, and the Bloodhounds setting up a few things. If everything goes right, the only variable that you'll have to worry about is Her Excellency herself."

"Lorelei Bismarck..." The words were more of a murmur as he shifted to stare out the window.

Ahead, rising from Windsor's northern district, a gleaming spire of white stone and glass pierced the sky like a needle threading through blue silk.

This was Orion's heart, the center of its commerce, culture, and governance.

"Indeed. Orion's Lioness." Pandora's lips twisted wryly at the moniker. "We're expected at the Northern Spire in... five minutes. Prepare accordingly."

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