Roleplaying through “Re:Zero” with the GPT-3 story generator (Part 55)

This entry covers part of the eleventh volume of the original “Re:Zero” novels.

In the previous entry, the protagonist decides to treat the unhinged senior servant with respect from now on. They’ll leave for Roswaal’s mansion the following morning. The protagonist also promises a lifelong love affair to Emilia, even though his girlfriend is in a coma.


You are walking through what passes for streets in the dreary village of Sanctuary, heading towards the stables where you should meet with the senior servant Ram. Although it is technically the break of dawn, the tall forest that encloses the village prevents the light from reaching the ground. Your main problem with waking up this early is that you have barely managed to rest, worried partially about the nightmare you will face at Roswaal’s mansion. You will spend the long hours ahead of you wishing you could take a nap.
As soon as what passes for stables in this isolated, miserable village comes into view, you spot Ram’s slender body standing next to your beloved ground dragon Patrasche, already ready to be mounted. However, you hadn’t expected to see Garfiel also standing around, clearly waiting for you to come. As you approach them you keep eyeing the punk, trying to discern why he would have appeared here right as you and Ram were about to leave.
“Yer late, half-pint!”, Garfiel tells you, more teasing than menacing. “Makin’ Ram wait like that. Ya don’t do that to a lady!”
You stop in front of the two of them. Ram’s look suggests that she has been tolerating Garfiel’s presence for a while.
“It’s a bit too early in the morning to use me as an excuse to score points with our dear senior servant, Garfiel”, you say.
The punk shares a look with Ram, then he recoils at the senior servant’s obvious lack of interest. This poor bastard has no clue the kind of woman he’s trying to court.
“I just said yer late and she agreed, dat’s all”, Garfiel replies in a slightly hurt tone.
“More importantly, Garfiel, did you appear here so early in the morning to bid us farewell? If it had been Ryuzu, it wouldn’t have surprised me, but I wouldn’t take you for such a gracious host.”
He smirks mockingly.
“Aight, I ain’t here ta make a fuss. I’m here ta make sure yer safe! Yer gonna confront ol’ furryburglar ain’t ya, ’bout her givin’ the princess that magic crystal an’ all.”
You raise your eyebrows at Garfiel, and then you address Ram while pointing at the punk.
“Did you share our problems with the locals to such a degree?”
“Not that I’m aware of, Barusu”, Ram answers, annoyed.
Garfiel puts a hand on his waist and looks proud of having shown some degree of cunning.
“Ya take us fer yokels, and maybe we are fer ya fancy noble-born lookalikes from ta outside, but we’ve been guardin’ our Sanctuary fer a long time.”
“You mean Ryuzu has, right?”, you ask.
“Sure, old hag has been around fer a long, long time. Anyways, we got eyes every damn where! So don’t ya worry ’bout us knowin’ stuff. Matter is, ya intend ta get violent with ‘Rica?”
“I assure you I don’t want to hurt Frederica in any way. I quite like that lioness sister of yours. We just want to clarify what she intended with the whole magic crystal thing, and doing it in an underhanded way. I don’t even care that I could have gotten killed due to the tomb’s magic traps, to be honest. Besides, I just have to get to Roswaal’s mansion for reasons.”
Garfiel grimaces.
“As if ya would hurt that nasty bitch! Damn old Frederica would wipe the floor with yer half-pint ass. Do ya doubt it or anythin’? I haven’t seen old ‘Rica in a good while, but if she got any stronger, ya better make sure ya don’t try anythin’ with the gal.”
“I wouldn’t be able to hurt probably even your fantasy world flies. But I bring Ram along with me as security, and she’s as tough as they come.”
“Ya, yer real lucky, half-pint, gettin’ ta travel with Ram. But better not to fight ‘Rica anyway, as nice as it sounds to see both gals dukin’ it out.”
“Is this why you are delaying us, Garfiel?”, you ask, increasingly annoyed. “To tell us not to hurt your beloved sister that you miss so much it makes you lose sleep?”
Garfiel snarls, and shifts his weight as uncomfortable as he tends to get when you suggest that he cares for his sibling.
“Ya fightin’ each other don’t help nobody. So I wanna make sure that damn ‘Rica won’t get feisty an’ cause some trouble.”
He takes out something from his vest, and he shows it to you both. It’s an identical pendant to the one Frederica gave to Emilia, to the extent that you check your pocket to make sure it’s still there. Apparently two of them exist.
“Show it ta Frederica”, Garfiel adds. “Ol’ furryburglar will know what’s up.”
You reach for the crystal, but the punk retracts his hand.
“As if!”, Garfiel says. “I ain’t want ya ta have it! I do this for Ram.”
The senior servant sighs and takes the crystal. She puts it in the pocket of her servant outfit.
“Despite the disrespect, that’s awfully nice of you, Garfiel,” you say, “even though you are one of the least nice people I’ve ever met.”
“An’ what tha hell does that mean?”
“It means you are really rude to just about everyone. Even I, someone who annoys people for a living, have fewer issues with assholianess.”
“Justa damn small-timers who annoy ta hell outta me.”
“See what I mean?”
“Whatever. I’m still keepin’ an eye on ya.”
Ram bows slightly towards Garfiel, clearly wanting to thank him as impersonally as possible.
“I appreciate that you intend to prevent our confrontation from becoming bloody, and yet I hope you didn’t do this as an attempt to court me, Garfiel.”
The punk looks down for a moment. He has trouble holding Rem’s gaze.
“Every damn thing’s ’bout courtin’ for red-blooded men, Ram, and my blood is as red as they come.”
“And I’m sure that your blood is very pure, but I am not interested in you. I don’t change my mind.”
Garfiel hangs his head down and seems to be sulking.
“Ah… Thank you for your help, Garfiel”, you say. “We’ll return relatively soon, and your sister will likely remain in Roswaal’s mansion fully alive. She needs to take care of the place, after all.”
“Yeah, not sure why she does tha’. Can’t we just let that place collapse? No loss, really.”
“It’s still her home.”
“So is our Sanctuary and y’know how much she cares ’bout this place.”
“Barusu, we better get going”, Ram says.
“Yeah, sure”, you say.
As usual, you have some trouble climbing to Patrasche’s saddle, but Ram jumps gracefully and effortlessly to sit behind you. She puts her hands on your waist, which makes Garfiel frown with obvious envy.
“See you later, you damn punk”, you say to Garfiel.
“Sure. This place’s gonna be quiet fer a while then.”
As you start riding Patrasche and she leaves Garfiel behind while heading towards the barrier, you realize that she’s been trotting faster than usual.
“Why is your ground dragon going so fast?”, Ram asks.
“My beloved girl is eager to go back home, as I am. I sure wish we could get this whole barrier business sorted…”

You don’t want to bother Ram with small talk or your usual nonsense, so you stay quiet. The senior servant seems to appreciate it, because the couple of times you looked over your shoulder at her she looked as laid back as it must be possible for someone as fucked up as Ram. At times, particularly when Patrasche accelerates despite the curviness of the path, Ram grasps your waist suggesting such strength that if the senior servant scooted closer on the saddle, you wouldn’t be surprised if a dick poked your butt.
The silence ends up bothering you too much, used as you are to spewing nonsense that annoys everybody. You are already speaking before you can stop yourself.
“You didn’t bring any snacks, Ram?”
“I’m sure you have brought your own, Barusu.”
“I’m curious about your Oni nature. I have rarely seen you eat anything. Is it because of the whole feeding on people’s blood thing? Does a bit of it keep you going for a long time?”
Ram gasps almost inaudibly, and after she hasn’t answered for a couple of seconds, you look over your shoulder. She’s eyeing you as if she suspects you have read her diary.
“What’s wrong, Ram?”
“I would interrogate you to figure out who blabbered about it, but I do not wish to get angry at the moment.”
“Wait, was it supposed to be a secret?”
You try to remember when you learned about it. You faintly recall walking downhill towards Roswaal’s village. Rem, your beloved Rem, spoke at length about her Oni nature without any restraint. You aren’t sure if Ram commented on it. You guess that with Rem gone from her memory, Ram would have kept those details to herself.
“It’s not something commonly known,” Ram says, “which makes it all the more puzzling that someone like you, who often displays his ignorance as if boasting, would know it.”
“I found out through someone that I’ll need to speak to you about in a while, when I find the strength… Anyway, what I meant to say is that if you want to feed on my blood, go ahead. I’d be honored.”
She snorts.
“What a degenerate. Do you expect me to take your offer as a kind gesture? You are seeking something else from it.”
“Not at all. I’m just happy to help.”
“You must be underestimating my self-restraint. I can easily go without blood for a few days, unlike the lies some fools spread.”
“It must be perfectly natural for your kind. I don’t see any problem with it, and besides, it probably feels pretty good for the people you feed on as well.”
“You say that as if you know from experience.”
“Yeah, I do, Ram, and you have no clue how much I miss it. Honestly, those were some of the best moments of my life. One of them in particular still tops everything else that ever happened to me. So I’d say I’m quite knowledgeable on your kind.”
“Is that right? I highly doubt it, given that your blood must be as dirty as they come.”
“Dirty!? I have been told that I taste delicious. Your loss, I guess! Here you have a healthy, grown male who doesn’t do drugs, except for some occasional excessive alcohol intake, whom you can feed on whenever you want, but still you refuse.”
“Because I’m not a whore that gives it out for free!”
“Is that how it goes for your kind? Feeding on people is like having sex with them or something? I can’t imagine what a mess human society would be if we needed to treat our food like that.”
“It’s not the same thing!”
“Your comment makes little sense, then. You shouldn’t be so prideful. Not to mention it’s pretty counterintuitive to your survival. You must be able to secure some source of blood from time to time, after all.”
“I don’t need a lecture on how to live, not from you. It’s still a mystery how you have managed to survive so far.”
“I just do what’s necessary, Ram, no matter the pain. That’s my motto. Hell, that’s likely to become my dynasty’s motto. ‘We do what’s necessary, no matter the pain’. We’ll write it on the coat of arms.”
“You’re being obnoxious. I don’t understand why you keep pushing me, and I don’t think I can give you a straight answer as to why I keep talking to you.”
You attempt to give her a mollifying look over your shoulder, but when you see her frowning, you feel guilty.
“Sorry, Ram. I guess I’m blabbing as usual. I didn’t mean to bother you, it’s just that not saying nonsense is for me as hard as for a spider not to weave its web, you know? It’s in my blood.”
She shakes her head.
“Spiders don’t have blood.”
“They don’t…? Well, you know what I mean. In any case, this whole thing with me hoping you would bite me and drink my blood segues into the topic I dread bringing up, but now that you are going to the mansion with me, you simply need to know. Although I’m terrified of how you will react when I tell you.”
“Whatever it is, just spit it out, will you?”
“Okay. Ram… In the mansion you will get to meet again the most important person in the world for you.”
“I have no clue what you mean, Barusu”, Ram says, irritated. “The only person in the world who matters any longer is lord Roswaal.”
Her answer surprises you. Obviously Roswaal allows her to live at his enormous mansion, and Ram will be able to work as a servant for the rest of her life if she wants to, but you can’t imagine the private details of the long relationship between the two. You don’t want to get sidetracked, as you already fear Ram cutting the conversation short.
“No, there was another”, you say firmly. “You will see her at the mansion.”
“I can’t begin to guess what you mean, but I can tell you aren’t joking.”
“That’s right, I’m not mindlessly annoying people for once. This person I’m talking about fought the cultists on our side, but she left with Crusch’s caravan back towards the capital so she could tend to the wounded. It was Crusch’s condition to leave Ferris behind, because they needed a competent healer on the caravan. However, the person I’m referring to got seriously injured during the ambush. Seriously injured is even an euphemism in her case.”
“Why are you telling me this?”, Ram demands to know. “How close do you believe me to be to members of Crusch Karsten’s household, nevermind to the extent that I would consider them the most important person in the world? You are getting on my nerves, Barusu.”
You take a deep breath.
“No, the person who left not only belongs to our own household, but she’s your sister. Her name is Rem. During the ambush she was attacked by some superpowered person with a similar ability to that of the White Whale itself. The memories of your sister got stolen from everybody else’s mind, although her body remains in the world. She’s in a really bad coma, though…”
You let the words sink in for a moment. Ram tightens her grip on your waist.
“Even though your tone doesn’t suggest it, Barusu, you better deny you are messing around.”
“I’m not. Listen to me, Ram: you have a sister who loves you very much, and every memory of her was taken away from you. This person, Rem, is resting in a coma back at Roswaal’s mansion. You will meet her there, you will realize I’m telling the truth.”
Ram falls into a deep silence that makes you break into sweat. You can’t imagine what’s going through her mind. Ram speaks slowly, and with a firm voice.
“What you just told me is so blatantly false and ridiculous that I’m inclined to believe that someone has infiltrated our household and deceived you into believing such a lie. You are dumb enough to fall for it.”
You shake your head.
“Well, you could have taken it much worse. You will see the resemblance as soon as you look at our lovely Rem. She looks pretty much like you but with light blue hair.”
“I cannot doubt it more. I have the means to figure out if that person is deceiving you, and in that likely case she will pay for it. A person trying to pass herself as a family member of mine… I can hardly think of something so loathsome. I’m an only child.”
“You aren’t, though, but it won’t change anything just telling you. Of course you believe yourself to be an only child, your memories of Rem got stolen.”
“You made your point, Barusu. I don’t want to speak until we get to the mansion.”
“Alright. If it turns out that I’m so deranged that my mind has made Rem up, please, feel free to murder me ag-… I mean, murder me for the first time. I wouldn’t want to keep going if that was the case.”
“It would be like squashing a bug, Barusu. It’s beneath me.”
You shrug, take a deep breath and steel yourself for the rest of what will become a very long trip.

When you finally reach the village at the base of the uphill road that leads to Roswaal’s impossibly huge mansion, you would have thought it would have made you feel relieved because the trip ended, because you had returned home. However, that horrifying contract killer must be around, or if she isn’t, because the last time you met her four or five days later, she will be here again. As you ride Patrasche as fast as possible through the streets, you expect to recognize the woman’s face behind every window, and in the people you walk around the village and who are very curious about their very well known senior servant having returned. Some even call out to her, but she replies that you are both quite busy.
Once you cross the gate into the mansion’s grounds you spot the small figure of a servant trimming a hedge taller than her. Given how vast the yard is, the person looks like a lost child, with emphasis on the child part. Ram herself cranes her neck towards the servant as Patrasche approaches her. Petra hasn’t even turned around, even though the sound of a ground dragon walking towards her should have startled her.
You jump off the saddle. Your heartbeat is calming down. Petra is alive, which means that Frederica, Rem and Beatrice are alive. You can save them all if you figure out how to stop that serial killer.
“Hey, Petra”, you say to the girl. “You need to work on your sixth sense!”
Petra turns around after hearing her name, and then she jumps in surprise.
“Mr. Natsuki! When did you, I mean…”, she says before you interrupt.
“Nevermind all that. You’ll have plenty of time to catch up on things later, but for now you need to walk around the mansion, ignoring the people inside and counting how many times you step on the ground or on carpets.”
“Huh? What for?”
Ram steps forward.
“Don’t listen to him. You are one of the villagers, aren’t you? Did Frederica take you in as a trainee?”
Petra smiles adoringly at Ram, who hasn’t changed her deadpan expression. The tween curtsies elegantly, holding the hem of her skirt.
“That’s right, miss Ram. I have seen you many times from when you came down to our village. I always admired your grace. I look forward to working for you! I’m still learning, but I believe you will be satisfied with my abilities.”
Ram nods.
“Very polite manners. I see that Frederica has chosen right.”
You are dismayed that Ram of all people has approved of this tween working in the mansion.
“Ram, don’t you think that this Petra is way too young, and that her outfit, which is the same for all of you, is way too skimpy?”
“Her age isn’t an issue. I was younger than her when I started working for lord Roswaal”, Ram answers calmly.
“Younger!? That damned Roswaal, what the hell is he doing!? I guess when you live in a huge fantasy world mansion, you don’t need to worry about the FBI stopping your fun!”
“The FBI?”, Petra asks cautiously.
“Yes, Petra, a famous organization that would have a problem with you parading that young body of yours in such a revealing outfit, and also because you work even though you should be in school!”
Petra gasps.
“I’m sure this is all a misunderstanding! I don’t want to cause lord Roswaal any trouble!”
“Misunderstanding? You wear a skimpy outfit while talking provocatively to the male members of this household!”
“Talking provocatively!? I just speak normally, even to the men… And I’m just dressing the way I’m required to! The people at the village told me I looked like a proper lady.”
You groan loudly, but Ram frowns at you.
“Barusu, stop teasing the trainee. She’s under our care, and clearly she isn’t experienced enough in how she should handle you.”
Under Ram’s gaze, which you are well aware that it can end up turning beyond murderous, you lower your head a bit.
“Yes, yes… But still, the point remains. She skirts the edges of legality and common sense.”
“So does this entire household”, Ram says. “Petra, is miss Frederica around?”
“Yes, last time I saw her she was dusting around the living room.”
“We better notify her that we have returned.”
You both leave Petra behind and walk up to the big front doors. Ram grabs the handle, but she turns to you with a serious expression.
“Barusu, we should take care of the impostor first.”
Startled, you motion with your hands for her to calm down.
“There’s no impostoring going on, Ram, I’m telling you! That Rem is truly your dear sister, who is in a coma! And don’t even think about attacking someone who is unconscious!”
“I am not concerned about her condition. If the same blood doesn’t run through our veins, then this girl has infiltrated our household, and her affiliations are with the enemy.”
You shake your head.
“Thankfully for everyone, the properties of her blood should satisfy you. I hope it doesn’t involve exsanguinating my beloved Rem to death!”
“Your beloved? I’m telling you, Barusu, if it turns out that you have allowed an impostor in our household, don’t believe for a second that you will come out of it unscathed.”
“Hell, Ram, I no longer believe that I will come out of any interaction with you unscathed.”
She stares at you for a bit, before shrugging it off.
“Let’s just get in.”
She opens the big, heavy door as effortlessly as a the one in a bathroom stall. You walk in, and the vision of the luxurious foyer with all of its antique furniture should have made you feel at home, and yet you have the feeling of having wandered into a predator’s den. One of these incoming days, that Bowel Hunter woman is going to murder everyone here, and you don’t even know when she arrives.
“Stop looking around like an idiot and guide me to this Rem’s room, Barusu”, Ram says, annoyed.
You both sneak towards the room that Emilia had chosen for your comatose first girlfriend. You are wary of every little noise and movement you sense from somewhere else in the mansion, while Ram glares at you like you are wasting her time. Once you reach the room, your heart is beating fast, and not only because you have no clue how Ram is going to react, but because the burn of guilt that you getting used to is enveloping and squeezing your heart. You haven’t seen Rem ever since you betrayed her. You never saw her corpse, you just had the words of that terrifying contract killer to go by.
“What are you waiting for, Barusu?”, Ram asks quietly. “Why be careful? Didn’t you say she’s comatose? Or do you suspect now that she was faking?”
“No… No, she’s in a coma”, you mutter quietly, “But still, she’s Rem.”
You slowly open the door, and there she is. Or her body is, at least. Covered from the neck down by a blanket, she lays in bed with her eyes closed. Your mind half-expected her, wished her, to open her blue eyes when you both entered the room. The light of the sun, filtered by the curtains, illuminates Rem’s expressionless face, and you observe for a while how her chest rises and falls.
As an uncomfortable warmth fills your chest, you suddenly remember that you had come to introduce your beloved Rem to her sister. You turn towards the senior servant. She’s staring at her sister with a intense expression between a scowl and bewilderment.
“Almost like looking in a mirror, isn’t it?”, you say cautiously.
The senior servant’s eyes dart towards you. She stares a moment as if she is looking at the wall behind you, but then her eyes focus.
“Barusu, leave the room.”
You tense up.
“H-Hey, don’t do anything bad to her. She’s completely innocent, as well as your sister, for real.”
“Get out of here, Barusu. I won’t say it twice.”
“Thrice, I guess you mean. Yeah, I’m leaving. Don’t murder Rem, though.”
The senior servant stands a few steps from Rem, staring down at her while completely immobile. You can’t imagine what truly goes in Ram’s terrifying mind, and this is a situation she has never had to face. When you close the door behind you, you hold your breath and try to discern any sound above your loud heartbeats. You catch a couple of footsteps, but then nothing.
You had expected Ram to come out in a couple of minutes, or at least invite you to come in to talk about it, but you don’t hear anything. You feel bad, as if she must have realized that Rem is truly her sister, and by standing right next to the door you are robbing her of the appropriate release, as if you were waiting outside of a bathroom stall while someone was trying to take a shit inside. You wander off towards the living room.
You are worrying about Ram, what that unhinged senior servant might be doing to your precious Rem even though she’s sleeping forever, when you spot a figure arranging a bouquet of flowers in a vase as tall as the tween trainee. That voluminous, wild light blonde hair, closer to a beast’s than a person’s, as well as that lean figure in which the muscles stand out without appearing bulky, brightens your mood. You recall Frederica’s big smile full of pointy teeth, how she managed to make everything seem fun and straightforward.
“Yo, Frederica!”, you say cheerfully.
The lioness turns around, and when she realizes it’s you, she straightens her back and raises her eyebrows. Then she smiles welcomingly, with the smallest hint of hesitancy. She turns towards you and holds her hands in front of her waist.
“Mr. Natsuki, you have returned quickly.”
“Yeah, I’m back. So, how’s it going? What are you up to?”
She relaxes her pose, and smiles a bit sadly.
“I am arranging these pretty flowers that the duchess of Karsten gave us, in this very ancient vase, apparently a family legacy from a few hundred years ago.”
“Really now? They’re quite beautiful. Ah, Crusch… I miss that woman. Leaving her house was like becoming emancipated, but I know that from time to time I will want to return to her warm, safe womb…” You gasp, then point at Frederica, who was staring at you puzzled. “Wait a second, I shouldn’t be happy to see you! You deceived us!”
Frederica lowers her thick, blonde eyebrows slightly, but still tries to smile.
“Is lady Emilia doing well?”
You rub your eyes. What the hell are you doing? You left Ram dealing with the sister she didn’t know she had, and now you are confronting your target. You are supposed to stop the most accomplished contract killer?
“Well, let me think about it… Emilia is a bit distraught with the whole thing about getting trapped in a dreary village full of yokels, particularly one who can’t stop inventing words, and she almost had a mental breakdown because she couldn’t deal with whatever the spirit of that Echidna witch made our lovely Emilia face during the trial. So I’d say Emilia isn’t doing too well. I mean, she’s still gorgeous, sweet, kind, passionate, and tastes like heaven, let me tell you, but she kind of developed a grudge on you due to your shady actions.”
Frederica looks down at the floor and breathes deeply as if contemplating her decisions, or the consequences.
“I thought that of all people she would have passed those trials…”, she says softly.
“Are you kidding me? You never noticed that our Emilia is unstable, and that she mostly keeps going because she can avoid dealing with her likely horrible childhood? What the hell made you think that a trial designed to make her face her past, at least the first one of the three, would be something Emilia would be suited to? You damn deceitful German! If you weren’t so beautiful and attractive in general, and fun to be around, I would be really mad at you.”
Frederica puts a hand to her chest. Her contrite expression doesn’t match those predatory teeth that peek out whenever she speaks.
“You do have a right to be mad, Mr. Natsuki. I accept the blame. But consider this, if we do succeed in breaking the barrier, not only lady Emilia will be free, but also everyone else.”
“Yeah, that’s the thing. If. Emilia won’t break that damn witch-created barrier unless she changes significantly, and I am not allowed to pass them because of political garbage!” You shake your head while glaring at the German. “I can’t believe you let us go to Sanctuary without explaining the situation. What happened to you, Frederica? You used to be cool.”
Frederica avoids your gaze, focusing on a nearby painting of some ancestor of the clown instead. She swallows.
“After so many years, Mr. Natsuki, I was desperate. You had gone as far as defeating an entire branch of the Witch’s Cult for Emilia, and I have always believed that she’s far stronger than even herself believes. I still think she will realize it in the end. Only people as resourceful as other esteemed members of this household can solve the quandary of my hometown. I’ve lived for many years hoping that the only one inside who could pass those trials would finally find the strength to do it, but… he never has. I don’t think he wants to leave anymore.”
“Yeah, it’s funny how screwing with people gets glossed over because someone was desperate. Now I’m the one desperate about my situation. Who the fuck do I ask for help?”
“I don’t know. I’m sorry, Mr. Natsuki.” She holds your gaze, even though her green irises are trembling, and she steps towards you. “How is Garfiel doing? Would you tell me?”
“Your punk of a little brother is one of the most obnoxious, unstable, randomly violent hicks I have ever met. Cool scar, though, as in he would likely win one of the main prizes in some contest for the most nasty, disturbing and distracting scars. He also keeps making up words for some reason. He must have a lot to compensate for, I suppose. You probably have a bigger dick than him.”
“Mr. Natsuki! Don’t say such things!” She slaps your shoulder as in trying to lighten the mood, but you keep glaring at her. “Shut up! Hah…” Frederica hugs your arm, hiding her face. “I haven’t seen him in far too long. And now he hates me, doesn’t he?”
“Yeah. He, the rest of the villagers and everyone else in that dead-end village hate you. I’m not sure if you ever cared for anyone there besides your brother, but you probably should never come back, or they’ll make an spectacle of spanking you in public.”
“That’s awful. I’m sorry, again.”
“Yeah, well, we all have our place in society. To be honest, I don’t know, nor care, what everyone else at that dreary village thinks about you, but I suddenly remembered that your brother had asked me to relay a message to you.”
“What’s that?”, she asks cautiously.
“I believe his exact words were ‘eat a dick’.”
Frederica’s eyes widen, and a tear falls from her eyes as she punches your arm. You are startled by how much it hurt, and you start rubbing it. No doubt it’s going to leave a bruise.
“How could he say that to me?”, Frederica says. “Is he really that angry? The last time we spoke to each other he promised that he would pass the trials and join me in the outside world. Why did he end up hating me?”
“The past is the past. He’s just… Look, forget about Garfiel, he’s an idiot, and he’ll continue to be.”
“He’s my little brother, and I love him! I don’t want him to waste his life in that horrible village without a future. Would you want such a fate for anyone you cared about? But he can’t leave unless the barrier is lifted.”
“It seems that your love for that punk of a brother of yours, whom you haven’t seen in apparently many years, is enough for you to risk the lives of other household members of yours”, you say seriously.
Frederica is shocked. She fails to answer. You step forward and grab her shoulders, which feel firm under your fingers.
“Frederica, what was your intention with that whole magic crystal thing? Did you want Emilia to get teleported to the clearing close to the witches’ tomb, so she would wander into it and trigger her trials? Did you hope that Emilia would pass them immediately?”
She stares at you disconcerted.
“Mr. Natsuki, what do you mean with ‘teleported’? Why would my magic crystal be related to teleportation?”
Damn, she’s good at feigning ignorance.
“Don’t pretend. That magic crystal had some sort of enchantment that reacted with the barrier, teleporting to that clearing whoever it was touching. You know, I grabbed the damn thing because I thought it was going to explode, and I got teleported instead. If the witches’ tomb’s traps worked on me like they were supposed to, my digested remains would have been shat by the village’s pigs already. Did you consider for a moment that by giving us that fucking magic crystal you could be condemning one of us to become pig food?”
“No! I would never wish that on anyone!”
You snort.
“Bullshit. You know, Frederica, I thought you were so great. You always made me feel good when you were around, and you are sexy as hell with that blonde hair and thicc body, as well as those threats of pinning me down under your strong self. But now I don’t know what I think about you. I will still masturbate to you, for sure, but I won’t be so enthusiastic.”
“Mr. Natsuki, please don’t! I’m sorry for whatever I did, but I swear to the gods I didn’t know that the magic crystal would do that!”
“Then what is that damn crystal for? Was that some new age shit? Did you want to improve our vibrations? You should use those vibrations in your own private parts!”
Frederica closes her eyes as if deep in thought. When she opens her eyes again, her previously apologetic expression turns determined.
“Mr. Natsuki, if you still haven’t discovered the truth about Sanctuary, then I won’t speak about it. But you need to hold on to that crystal.”
“You fucking serious, lioness? After all this bullshit, having to listen to your little brother struggle through dozens of sentences, you still withhold information?”
Frederica was about to speak when her gets stunned, then she cranes her head towards the main door of the living room. You hear someone clear her throat. Ram.
“It seems you want to die, Barusu”, Ram says calmly.
You turn towards her. The senior servant is standing with her arms crossed in front of the doorway, narrowing her eyes at both Frederica and you.
“Why do you want to kill me now, Ram? What the hell have I done?”
Ram closes her eyes and sighs deeply. She then uncrosses her arms, walks to the sofas in the center of the room, which face a coffee table, and sits down calmly.
“You complete idiot, I meant that we came to confront Frederica for her deceitful behavior, and Roswaal sent me along so you wouldn’t get killed, and yet you run up ahead to face a competent fighter like Ms. Baumann. Do you understand now what I meant, Barusu?”
You scratch your head.
“Yes, Ram. I’ll remember that next time.”
“No, you won’t. Frederica, please, serve us some tea, will you? Let’s chat like civilized people.”
Frederica snaps out of her surprise, and then bows.
“Sure thing, senior servant.”
While Frederica heads to the kitchen to get some tea, you take a deep breath, shaken after your confrontation, and sit next to Ram. She looks at you with an uncharacteristically relaxed expression.
You lean towards her to speak quietly.
“Ram, how did it go with your sister?”
“Oh, it was horrible, Barusu. I used blood magic to check for consanguinity, and to my utmost surprise I discovered that I have a sister I don’t remember.”
“I’m simultaneously relieved and saddened to hear you say that. That’s great news, isn’t it?”
“No. It isn’t.” Ram looks at the big windows, which allow the midday light to bathe the room. “Everyone I knew from my childhood is dead, and I have always been alone. That’s who I am. That’s an indelible part of my identity as far as my brain is concerned. And yet it must be true that this sister of mine, who remains alive despite her comatose state, was stolen from me by a different enemy. I must have seen her, interacted with her, for the last time during the cultist attack, is that right? A lifetime of memories that someone has erased in me. I am infuriated, Barusu.”
“Yeah…”, you murmur. “You are always angry, it seems, but this time I’m with you a hundred percent.”
“I feel a rage so powerful that it makes me want to destroy everything around me.”
“Please don’t murder me. I haven’t figured out enough new stuff in this reality.”
“I won’t.”
“Okay…”
“Because I am not angry at you. You couldn’t have known that this would happen. It’s those accursed cultists that did this, the damned shadows. That superpowered person who took my sister away from me must belong to the cult. A higher-up.”
“Ram, anything I can do to help you catch the son of a bitch who did this, I’m at your service.”
The senior servant holds your gaze with a deadpan expression, then nods.
“I accept your sentiment. It’s a shame that you are completely useless in that regard.”
“At least I have improved in your eyes, given that you felt the need to add ‘in that regard’. And I only had to take down an entire branch of the worst terrorist group for it.”
Frederica returns with a tray holding three tea cups and a steaming teapot. The lioness seems intimidated by the original senior servant, and as soon as she places the tray, she takes a step back and holds her hands in front of her waist. Ram serves herself some red tea that smells like herbs. She holds her teacup with her pinky out, and takes a sip.
“Not strong enough, but I can’t be bothered to prepare a fresh brew.”
Frederica tilts her head and grimaces at the senior servant, displaying her triangular teeth.
“Preparing tea was always my specialty. What an unlovable girl you are.”
“On the contrary”, Ram answers calmly. “If I were more lovable, the world would be at risk.”
You clear your throat.
“Please, take a seat, Frederica.”
The lioness looks hurt, maybe due to your confrontation as well as to Ram’s dismissive attitude. She sits down heavily on the opposite sofa, and crosses her powerful legs. She serves herself some of her tea, then holds her teacup with both hands and places it on her knee.
“To be honest, Ram, I already figured out everything”, you say with some pride. “The deceitful, yet lovable lioness here wanted Emilia to lift the barrier because she, meaning Frederica, wants to free her yokel brother from a dreary lifetime at that horrid village full of freaks. However, it seems that the teleport thing that triggered when the magic crystal reacted to the barrier has nothing to do with her. So we have a mystery in our hands, I guess. Not sure that I care. I have more important things to worry about right now!”
Frederica holds her teacup in one hand and combs her hair with the other.
“Like what?”
“Like Emilia and her attempts to pass the trials at the witches’ tomb. That’s a thing I can tell you, at least.”
Ram drinks a mouthful of her tea, she dries her lips, then stands up and turns her palm to face upwards. A sudden breeze coming from the senior servant startles you, and you see space itself getting distorted above her palm as in a mini tornado.
“I didn’t just come to make you talk, Frederica. You will return with us to Sanctuary so you can face lord Roswaal for your deception. I will fight you if necessary.”
Frederica lowers her head, closes her eyes and smiles softly.
“Hm. And how do you intend to do that, exactly? I am not an opponent you can beat easily. You might stand a chance if you had your abilities back.”
“I will pour this whole cup of hot tea in your lap, then.”
Frederica chuckles, and you realize how much you miss the easy-going attitude you used to know her for.
“It’s alright, Ram”, Frederica says calmly. “If you want me to accompany you to Sanctuary so I can face Roswaal, I will do so. No violence is necessary. When I tangled both Emilia and Mr. Natsuki in my hope that Sanctuary would finally open up, I was ready to accept the consequences.”
With a hint of reluctance, Ram stops distorting space, and the wind stops blowing. She sits back down and the three of you drink your tea in awkward silence for a while. You realize that the twin magic crystal that Garfiel had given Ram must remain in her pocket, and yet you never thought of using it at all. Talking with the punk this morning was a complete waste of time.
You would have loved to eat a meal with these two girls and then travel back to Sanctuary. But the three of you hear Petra whimpering from one of the side doors of the living room. She is standing there, trembling and crying as she looks pleadingly towards the three of you. Behind the tween stands Elsa Granhiert, who is holding one of her gutting knives to the tween’s neck. The blade has cut enough already so that a few drops of blood are sliding down towards the handle. The contract killer offers you three a welcoming smile.


Note from December of 2020:

Credit where credit is due, that small interaction between Frederica and Ram in which Ram disses the lioness’ tea, only for Frederica to get so annoyed that she grimaces and calls her unlovable, is one that came straight from both the original and the anime adaptation. I thought it was a nice character moment.

Roleplaying through “Re:Zero” with the GPT-3 story generator (Part 54)

This entry covers part of the eleventh volume of the original “Re:Zero” novels.

The previous entry was about pushing every one of Ram’s buttons until she loses her fucking mind. Also we got a further example that nobody cares about Otto’s pain.


After the boring Witch of Envy spits you out into reality, the rush of sensations, every minute pain that courses through a human body, floods your brain. You are lying on the flat stones of the antechamber deep into the witches’ tomb. This time you know that as you slept you breathed dust through your mouth, so while you support yourself on your forearms, you spit on the floor for a bit and then swallow enough times to force your mouth to produce saliva. You are so confused, dazed as if everything you’ve lived recently was nothing more than a wild dream, and the blue glow that illuminates this room only contributes to that sensation of unreality.
You sit up and focus your gaze on a point of the cold stone walls in front of you, which are covered with tiny cracks. You feel more than see Emilia’s sleeping body out of the corner of your eyes. As soon as you remember the feeling of holding the half-elf in your arms, the wetness and sweetness of her mouth, the oven-like hotness of her insides, the guilt makes you double over. I abandoned you, you think. I abandoned you both. I let Rem die, and even after I betrayed her, I also abandoned Emilia, who might have been pregnant already, because you couldn’t find the strength to keep going. You saw a chance to die and start over with the hope that maybe the next time you could think clearly, and you wouldn’t have to regret your actions as well as the nonsense you keep spewing out of your mouth. Because Satella loves you, your wish was granted. The least you can do is not waste it.
Set your priorities. Your main goal should be to figure out how to stop everyone at Roswaal’s mansion from getting murdered. That comes above having sex with Emilia, so you’ll need to avoid the half-elf as much as possible. In this reality she still hasn’t felt your tongue licking her clit dry, so she shouldn’t behave too needily.
You pump your fists and clench your teeth to give yourself strength. You can do it, Subaru. There’s no way you will survive meeting that Elsa Granhiert contract killer the second time you come across her, but at least you should be able to glean some more vital information that eventually will allow you to save everyone you like, as well as Petra. You already defeated an entire branch of the Witch’s Cult. You can do anything. Someone who knows what’s going to happen cannot lose.
You walk up to your sweet Emilia’s side, sit on the floor and hold her in your arms, cradling her against your chest. Her facial muscles twitch as she relives childhood traumas that she can’t remember during her waking life. After you kiss her forehead, you pat her cheek repeatedly.
“C’mon, wake up, my sweet Emilia. Open your pretty eyes and return to your man’s side.”
She stirs, then wakes up. She looks at you with a blank expression, and you stare back with a loving smile. Then her expression twists into a grimace of terror and she shrieks so loud that it pierces your eardrums.

After you exit the enormous entrance of the witches’ tomb while carrying the delirious Emilia in your arms, your pals, one of who, a servant with pink hair, murdered you not long ago, run up to help you. In between questions and answers that you barely pay attention to, you all load Emilia on the back of Otto’s carriage, parked deeper into the clearing. As you all would have gotten on the vehicle so you could reach Ryuzu’s home as soon as possible, you walk up to Ram and motion with your head for her to step away from the group for a moment.
“What is it, Barusu?”, the senior servant asks. “What has happened in there?”
Your body expects this meeting to feel as awkward as can be. This is a woman whom you had joked around with every time she participated in a conversation, and you had taken her dismissive, standoffish attitude as that of a very introverted, serious person. But Ram revealed to you that she has shed from her life everything that wasn’t involved with this revenge she didn’t elaborate on, and the trauma likely related to Rem as well, that she never got to explain to you when your beloved was conscious, must have traumatized the senior servant to the extent that she doesn’t recognize her own emotions. No, worse: she hates whenever someone sparks emotions in her, because she can’t deal with them. She can’t afford to deal with the buried feelings if she’s to move forward until she gets her revenge. Even though the senior servant squashed your eyeballs against the back of your eye sockets, you want to hug her slender frame and tell her that everything is going to be okay. Can’t do that, though, because she would kill you.
“Barusu, what’s with that look?”, she insists while frowning a bit. “What do you intend to say?”
“Ram… The trial activated for me, and I passed it.”
Ram opens her eyes wide, and she snaps her head back a bit.
“That’s good news. We are a step closer to freeing Sanctuary and going home.”
You look back towards the carriage. Otto is looking over his shoulder from the driver’s seat to figure out why the hell are you making them all wait, and he motions with his hands for you both to come over.
“It doesn’t change much, no”, you say with a tired voice. You have felt exhausted and wanted to go to sleep every time you returned to this night. “Ryuzu and Garfiel won’t allow me to pass the trials instead of Emilia. More importantly, Ram, I need you to do me a favor.”
Ram eyes you with suspicion.
“I fear what’s going to come out of your mouth, Barusu.”
You sigh, then hold her gaze with sympathy.
“None of that this time, Ram. From now on I’m going to treat you with the respect and care that you deserve. Please, I need to meet the clown as soon as possible, even as soon as we leave Emilia in Ryuzu’s guest room.”
She blinks, confused by your sudden change in tone.
“Emilia is delirious. We should first make sure that this state isn’t permanent, that the witch’s trial hasn’t broken her brain.”
“It hasn’t, the effects will clear out around an hour after she lies on that guest bed. Trust me. Please, Ram, arrange an audience as soon as possible, as I asked.”
She narrows her eyes at you, before nodding.
“Fine. Somehow, that serious expression in your face disturbs me more than your usual tomfoolery.”
As she starts walking towards the carriage, you stop her by placing a hand on her shoulder, making her tense up.
“You are the best of us all, Ram. You are strong, you can keep us safe. We are counting on you.”
She looks at your hand, then at you, while pursing her lips. Without another word she climbs onto the carriage, and you follow.

After you accompany Ryuzu to place Emilia on the guest bed in which you made sweet love to the half-elf, and where you both declared that you belonged to each other forever, you ask them all to make sure Emilia is okay, and reveal that you will return in a short while after you speak with your lord. Ram accompanies you silently towards the discreet house where Roswaal rests, but a couple of minutes before you reach it, the senior servant breaks the silence.
“I can’t imagine how bad it must be that you haven’t blurted out any of your nonsense, Barusu.”
You glance at the senior servant, but it only makes you remember the still frame of her hunched over and standing over you, her face twisted in demonic anger as if she had lost her mind to a seething rage, and those red eyes almost glowing. Even though Ram killed you, you feel guilt because you drove her to that breaking point.
“The situation is bad for sure, but regarding me not bothering you with uncomfortable comments… I have realized how difficult I have made things for you. I know you are a person who doesn’t want others prodding into your life. Still, I felt a deep pain in you, and I wanted to help you. That’s a complex of mine, believing I can save anyone if I push hard enough. But you never asked for anyone’s help. I should have respected that.”
She slows down and holds your gaze as if she figured she must have been speaking to someone else. She then nods and quickens her pace.
“It is an odd habit of yours, Barusu, and I thank you for respecting my privacy.”
When you reach the house, Ram informs you that you should wait outside until she calls you in. The senior servant steps ahead to open the door. Before entering you give one last look at her and nod. She nods back.
A few minutes later you find yourself sitting on the expected chair by Roswaal’s side as the clown lays on the bed. His bandages look ghastly, and you recall that even though you spent around four or five days longer in Sanctuary in a previous run, Roswaal never seemed to improve significantly, or at least enough to leave the bed.
After you both explain Emilia’s failure at passing the trial on her first attempt, you show Roswaal the emerald-colored, generic-looking magic crystal that Frederica gave Emilia, and that teletransported you close enough to the witches’ tomb. You try to remember how you conducted yourself on this conversation during your previous attempt, but you succeeded at it, so you figure that you can just wing it.
“You are the big man here, Roswaal, so I came to ask you for your permission to jump on my loyal ground dragon, travel to your mansion and confront Frederica regarding why she acted so shady with us. I figure I can leave tomorrow at the break of dawn, come back maybe that same night. Otherwise, the following day.”
You feel a bit like spouting nonsense, but you figure that you’ve said something sensible, so you just shut up and wait for his answer. Roswaal stares carefully at you again. You must not have properly noticed it the first time, but it seems as if behind the clown’s smile he’s wondering what you know, or going through notes of what he could tell. It disturbs you.
“It is worrisome that someone as outwardly honest as Frederica Baumann would have risked your life with this underhanded decision”, Roswaal says with his lilting voice. “Have in mind, however, that you are suggesting meeting her in private to interrogate her about a possibly malicious act. You must have the wrong impression about her ability to defend herself, or to attack if she wishes to do so.”
You try to contain a yawn, but your body is acting by itself, and you cover your mouth for a couple of seconds as tears form in your eyes.
“Excuse me. Regarding Frederica, no, obviously she would pulverize me in a fight. However, I interacted with her plenty during my stay at the mansion, before we came to this dreary village to figure out what happened to you. I don’t see her as someone who would try to kill me even if I confronted her for something bad. However, we need to act quick. There are elements involved in Sanctuary that we aren’t fully aware of, and with Emilia having failed to pass the trial for now, we can’t take any risk.”
“But maybe haste makes waste, Subaru. Have in mind that your purpose in Sanctuary is to remain by Emilia’s side to support her like you have been doing, so she knows that someone will fight tirelessly, against monstrous enemies if necessary, so she survives to achieve her goals. And you have been making such efforts when you weren’t sure that you would eventually be accepted back into our camp! Truly, a hero for the ages. That’s why I intend to make it official. You have earned the ti-“
“You want to make me a knight. We’ll have the rite of passage as soon as we return to the mansion, right?”
Roswaal doesn’t close his mouth for a couple of seconds, an eternity for someone with his sense of theatrics. He narrows his eyes and widens his smile as if you are sharing some obscure private joke.
“Oh, that’s right, Subaru”, he says with a lowered voice. “Have I told you before, by chance?”
“Told me what? About knighting me?”
“Indeed. It’s no small gesture. It’s the lowest rank of nobility, but it separates you from the commoners, and a bright young man like yourself could keep ascending. Still, you are as unsurprised as could be. So were you expecting to be knighted?”
You want to shift your weight on the chair. You are a terrible actor, honest to a fault. You have no clue what’s truly going through the clown’s mind, and it’s not as if his makeup reveals much about his true expression.
“Not really”, you answer. “But I knew the chances were there. I mean, I was the only person helping Emilia.”
“Oh, that’s not true at all. We have our own camp, we aren’t nearly as helpless as you seem to believe. Ram herself fought valiantly against the cultist assault, right by the two armies you brought.”
You clear your throat. You stand up, turn towards a startled Ram, who takes a step back, and then you bow towards her.
“Of course, I didn’t want to disparage you, Ram. I know how hard you fought to protect the village, as well as all of us. I praise your strength.”
“You are just trying to get on my good side”, Ram says, annoyed by your fake flattery, not realizing it’s genuine.
You sigh, then sit back down.
“Nobody present was attempting to disrespect anybody else, I’m sure”, Roswaal says calmly. “Well, the matter is settled in that regard. I will indeed knight you. In relation to the point I was going to make, you would be Emilia’s first knight, so your task is to serve her every need, if she so requests, as well as keeping her safe, giving up your life and that of others if necessary.”
You already know that Roswaal will push for you to remain in Sanctuary and not run back to the mansion. However, if you sound firm enough you probably can get him to give up again.
“That’s indeed my duty, and confronting Frederica is part of that. The part beast servant had given this previously unknown magic crystal to Emilia. Even though I snatched it when it seemed as if it was about to explode, the magic crystal would have likely teleported Emilia to the same point of the clearing. She would have wandered into the tomb, and her trial would have started. Presumably she would have failed and we would have found ourselves in pretty much the same situation, but it’s still too suspicious for Frederica to use these crystals when not even you, lord Roswaal, were aware of its existence or purpose. I don’t want to leave matters hanging. We don’t know if a betrayal on Frederica’s part means that further related trouble might pop up in Sanctuary. I like to cover my bases.”
“Hmmm… Yes, a good plan indeed. So be it. Go ahead and confront Frederica about what she did, and make sure she never dares to try such a stunt again.”
You find yourself smiling. The lord is quite reasonable for a shady clown. You relax a bit, but he keeps staring at you.
“You have grown so much, haven’t you, Subaru?”, Roswaal adds, sounding more proud than is comfortable for you.
“Um… well, I try to be a useful servant. Emilia picked me up from the streets. I had nothing to my name, no place to fall dead. She gave me a life, and it belongs to her.”
“And it will always stay that way, yes? You will never leave her.”
“Of course!”
“That’s what I like about you, Subaru. You’re not like those idiots who want to gain everything in this world, not caring about anyone else if they have to trample over them to get there. You care about other people, while also striving for something for yourself. That’s the perfect combination of a good heart and being pragmatic about it.”
“I wouldn’t say perfect.”
“It is a perfect balance. That’s why you’re here, and not outside. The world needs more people like you, that’s for sure.”
The lord has an odd look in his eyes when he says this, and it confuses you a bit. You’re unsure how to respond to his words, so you just let them sit there. In a few seconds, Roswaal closes his eyes, holds his hands and seems about to speak, when you open your mouth and allow a question to come out.
“Roswaal, what would you think if I were to fall in love with Emilia?”
His eyes widen, as he seemed not to expect that question, but he lowers his head slightly and shares a complicit smile.
“Weeeell… After the Witch’s Cult almost ruined our camp, I’d say the three of us have been together through thick and thin, so while I don’t encourage you developing feelings for our royal candidate, I would not stop it either. Emilia is a big girl and she can make her own decisions. I would hope though, that you would not hurt her.”
“Of course. I would never want to harm her or Rem… or anyone here for that matter. You are all my new family as far as I’m concerned.”
“Good to hear, Subaru! We will celebrate our triumphant return to the mansion as soon as we leave this ugly business with the barrier behind. So, what brought this on, asking about whether you could love our beautiful half-elf? Did you and Emilia have a fight or something?”
You scratch the back of your head, suddenly embarrassed.
“Would it be so weird? Emilia is one of the loveliest, sweetest, kindest, most passionate girls you could ever meet, isn’t she? Truly a dream come true. Despite being out of most people’s leagues, it’s not rare that such a dream would pop up in the mind of any man who spends enough time near her.”
“Aha! So you do have feelings for her!”
“No! I mean, yeah, but I didn’t want to… You’re twisting my words around! And why are you smiling like that?”
Roswaal chuckles softly, but out of the corner of your left eye you notice Ram shifting her weight.
“I’m just glad you’re here, Natsuki Subaru”, Roswaal says warmly. “That’s why. You have saved us all, and I’m sure you will keep saving lady Emilia again and again. Such will be your official duty from now on.”
“Even if I never became a knight, I would have done so. It’s a matter of loyalty.”
As soon as the word escapes your mouth, Rem’s lovely face appears front and center in your mind, her light blue hair you loved caressing, that beaming smile, the way she used to make you feel as if you were the only two people in the world… You suddenly want to cry so hard that you swallow twice the rush of warmth that was heading for your eyes. You lower your head, and when you hold the lord’s gaze again, his expression reflects that your change in mood must have been obvious.
“Forgive me, I was too careless. I…” You start to tear up a bit, but hold your head high. Your eyes shut for a moment as you struggle to find your voice. “I’ll become a knight. I won’t lose anyone ever again.”
Roswaal nods. His smile doesn’t falter, and at least the clown has the decency not to comment on your sudden display of weakness.
“I’m sure you will fight your hardest, Subaru. And to make sure that such a bright future isn’t cut short, I will not allow you to confront Frederica alone.”
You dry your eyes, then stand up.
“Ah, of course.”
You turn to Ram before Roswaal says anything, and the senior servant, taken aback, alternates between looking at you and at the lord.
“… Indeed, I was going to order Ram to accompany you and make sure that you aren’t taken away from us”, Roswaal says.
The senior servant uncrosses her arms and stares at you as if wondering whether to object.
You bow towards her.
“I’m sure the prospect of accompanying me annoys you, Ram, but I’ll avoid causing you trouble. I’m in your hands. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”
Ram sighs, then shrugs.
“You’re right, I would prefer not to go. But his lordship orders it.”
Roswaal claps once.
“Then it’s settled. I pray for your safe return, Barusu. After we figure out what Frederica intended, we will be able to focus on Emilia’s attempts to open up Sanctuary.”
“That’s right”, you say, then turn to Ram. “Meet me at the break of dawn at the stables where my ground dragon is lazing around. We’ll ride quickly back home.”

In front of Ryuzu’s home you lean against a wooden post and look around the dreary town in the moonlight. A few villagers are still walking around, and some of Roswaal’s are chatting amicably with some rough-looking half-wolf and half-cat people. You want to go into Ryuzu’s guest room, where Emilia is waiting for you to show up. And you do want to get in the bed, hug her tight, kiss her, make love to her. But even for Emilia, the passionate sex was a way of forgetting her troubles, her half-broken psyche, the childhood trauma, the fact that she must feel incapable of passing the trials and yet is still bound to try over and over. You want to give her that relief. But if you let yourself succumb to those pleasures, you will lose yourself in them. You already did for more than two hundred periods of two days back at Crusch’s place, what feels like so long ago, with the members of that camp that now seem so far away. You have a disaster to stop, and you are the only one who can do it. That’s your curse. You suffer so nobody else has to.
After you brush your teeth and say goodbye to your pals, as well as the couple of blackmailers, hanging out in Ryuzu’s living room or the kitchen, you find the strength to enter the guest room. You live through a flashback: you open the door to see Emilia lying there with her face towards the door, as if waiting to greet you as soon as you appeared, and as you close the door she opens her eyes. Your heart hurts already.
“That’s you, isn’t it, Subaru?”, she asks softly.
“Yeah, Emilia. It’s me.”
You shuffle to the chair next to Emilia, then sit down heavily. You would be able to stroke the half-elf’s beautiful face by extending your arm a bit. She takes out her slender arm under the covers, and before she moves her hand towards you, you reach to hold it. Her eyes go wide for a moment, but then she smiles sweetly.
“Emilia, tomorrow morning I’m leaving for Roswaal’s mansion”, you say with a thinner voice that you had intended.
Her face falls immediately.
“What’s the matter, are you not feeling well? No, can’t be that… Subaru, I want you to be here with me.”
You want to say everything you wouldn’t have any trouble verbalizing if you intended to live a long life: that you are going to return tomorrow, that as soon as you get here you won’t leave her side again until she passes the trials, and that you’ll support her with everything she needs, but that’s not true. You already know that you won’t survive going to the mansion again. It might take five, ten, fifteen runs to get through this new nightmare, if you don’t lose your mind along the way. When will you become impervious to the current version of Emilia fearing that you will suffer harm, or even die? Is this not the same Emilia whom you made love to, with whom you wanted to spend your time isolated and naked, wishing that the rest of the world faded away? If you offered her to sleep next to her in the bed, you have no doubt that you would have sex shortly after, and this time you wouldn’t hesitate. But an Emilia tied to you by that level of physical love will only be a hindrance now to what you need to do.
“I have to go there, Emilia. I’ll return as soon as I can, but you should probably expect it to take a while.”
You want to say that you don’t mean to hurt her, but your mouth has run dry and you can’t articulate any further words. Emilia scans your face as if trying to find out what more you have to say, but when she sees that nothing is forthcoming she lowers her gaze sadly.
“Subaru, I truly need you by my side. Now that I have failed so disastrously to pass the trial… I can’t truly rely on anyone else. You make me feel strong, and as if I’m worth all the efforts you have made for me.”
You stroke with your thumb her hand you are holding. You must be looking at her so lovingly that she blushes and has trouble holding your gaze.
“Emilia, I need to tell you some things, none of which are easy for me to say particularly now.”
“What is it, Subaru…?”
“I love you. Truly, I do.”
She swallows, then bites her lips as if to prevent herself from crying. She nods slowly as if she’s been expecting to hear these words from you, but also knows that there’s a ‘but’ coming. There isn’t one.
“Emilia, I love you”, you repeat. “I couldn’t possibly put into words how much you mean to me or how important you are to me. If anything happened to you, I wouldn’t continue.”
Emilia’s lips tremble, and she ends up supporting herself on the other arm, because she needs to dry her tears.
“But you’re leaving tomorrow… If I wanted you to never leave my side before, imagine now!”
You lower your head and close your eyes. Although you don’t want to say out loud what you are about to, because you fear you’ll make it real, you need to face reality as it is. You hold Emilia’s gaze again.
“Rem won’t wake up. I will never give up trying to find a way to save her from her perennial sleep, but as far as everyone knows, it can’t happen. I will never abandon her, we will carry her with us wherever we go, and make sure she remains safe.”
Emilia scoots closer to you while still lying on the bed, and she offers you a glowing smile.
“Of course we will, Subaru.”
“So what I want to promise to you now is that if you want me, I am yours. I want to be there with you every step of the way until you satisfy your ambitions, support you whenever you need, hold your hand, kiss you, make love to you, and in the future have our own family and live together forever.”
Emilia sobs while chuckling. The tears fall through the fingers she’s trying to dry her eyes with.
“That’s what I want to say…!”
You kneel on the ground and then you hold Emilia’s hands so she doesn’t hide her face anymore. Despite her tears, she’s smiling as innocently as a child. You cup the back of her head and kiss her soft lips, and as both of you seek the other’s tongue, you get to forget every trouble in the world.


Note from December of 2020:

Every entry creates its own mood, so it depends on the events you need to cover as well as the flow of writing them if they become utterly deranged, as it had been the case during the protagonist’s previous run. But by this time the protagonist truly regrets how he had dealt with Ram up to this point, not only because she crushed his eyes, and he also has serious issues dealing with every version of the people he likes/loves, because he knows he will abandon them to return to the past.

Roleplaying through “Re:Zero” with the GPT-3 story generator (Part 53)

This entry covers part of the eleventh volume of the original “Re:Zero” novels.

In the previous entry, Otto and the protagonist had a ridiculous conversation about witch-created simulations, the protagonist surrendered to Emilia’s charms, and the couple of people who matter in Sanctuary refused to allow the protagonist to steal Emilia’s thunder.


Right after you failed to convince Ryuzu and Garfiel to let you pass the trials instead of Emilia, you went straight to find Ram so you could focus on making sure you can save Rem and everybody else at the mansion. You start searching near the modest house where the clown is resting. You locate the spartan senior servant as she dumps the contents of a bucket into a marshy terrain close to the treeline behind the house. Due to the stink of the marsh as well as the fact that the bucket has a hinged lid that Ram is quick to close after she straightens her back, you get to feel proud that you realize what she was doing.
“Dutiful servant as you are, you literally get to take care of our wounded clown’s shit”, you say as you approach the pink-haired girl.
What you didn’t expect is the death stare she impales your face with, so full of disdain that you freeze in your spot. You feel like a deer in front of an incoming truck, paralyzed by your impending death. You take a step back as Ram walks up to you, still holding on to the shit bucket.
“Did you merely intend to anger me, Barusu,” Ram asks with a hardened voice, “or was your comment the preliminary to an important point?”
You swallow. Your heart is having a hard time calming down, as you suddenly feel that joking around with this demon servant at any moment has been a horrible mistake.
“I apologize for my characteristic rudeness. I didn’t mean anything by it, I was just being myself. Yes, I was looking for you because I want an audience with Roswaal. I need to bring up Frederica’s betrayal. I intend to travel to the mansion and confront her.”
Ram stands there silently staring at you. The disdain hasn’t entirely cleared out from her red eyes, but eventually she takes a deep breath.
“It seems like an important matter. And yet you need to clarify something to me first: how did you know I was going to be here?”
“Well, you weren’t present during our meeting with Ryuzu, so I figured that you must have been busy tending to your lord.”
“An uncharacteristic display of reasoning on your part, but you have avoided my point. How do you know that Roswaal rests in this part of the village?”
You want to facepalm. Of course, you only knew where Roswaal was hidden because his senior servant had guided you to that dingy villager house. You weren’t supposed to know.
“Ah… Well, my dear Ram, how was I able to defeat an ancient ghost with the power of my mind? Maybe I’m not as small and insignificant as you constantly suggest.”
She narrows her eyes at you, but then she takes a deep breath and walks past you.
“It seems I need to be more careful. That’s on me. Follow me, Barusu, and when I enter a house through the back door, you wait near the front one until I ask you to come in.”
“Sure thing, sis.”
A few minutes later you find yourself sitting on the same chair as you did during your first meeting with your wounded lord Roswaal, and he’s wearing the same horrifying makeup, white foundation, triangles over his eyes, lipstick and everything. It creeps you the fuck out.
You take out the pendant with the emerald-colored, generic-looking crystal that Frederica had given to Emilia, while stating that under no circumstances the half-elf should have taken the pendant off. But because you snatched the pendant from your current girlfriend Emilia, you were the one who got teletransported to the clearing in front of the witches’ tomb instead, where you should have been ripped apart by the magic traps. Roswaal had been informed of most of this, but you go ahead and make your point.
“My request is this, Roswaal: allow me to leave alone on my dear ground dragon to your mansion, so I can confront Frederica and figure out what the fuck was the deal with this underhanded crap. In and out thing, I’ll be back tomorrow.”
Roswaal keeps staring at you while smiling as if he can’t quite tell who you are. Again you wonder whether your lord is all there, but then he speaks with his lilting voice.
“Underhanded? Is this the same Frederica that’s been working in my mansion for years, despite her recent leave of absence? The same girl that I’ve never seen be anything less than respectful and polite with me from the beginning? Indeed, that she would resort to these strange behaviors concerns me. Do you believe you can confront someone as strong as our Frederica, even though she might reveal some malicious intent?”
As hard as it is for you to imagine that easy-going, lively lioness trying to kill you, you clearly wouldn’t be able to defend yourself. If you ever agree to wrestle with her, you wouldn’t be surprised if she killed you accidentally. You imagine yourself struggling as her German body pins you down. Back in reality, you end up coughing against your fist to clear your mind.
“Well, I’m not confident, but the longer we stay here, the more our advantage of surprise disappears…” A loud yawn interrupts your sentence. “Sorry about that. I had a lot to think about in bed last night. Anyway, as I was saying, it’s better if I leave now instead of waiting for something bad to happen.”
“Oh, but I want you to stay, Subaru”, the clown says, pretending to implore. “You are Emilia’s knight after all. Like the bright young man that you are, Ram told me that you had figured out that I intended to make you an official knight as soon as we return home.”
“And I’m grateful for that, lord Roswaal. However, we don’t know in what other ways Frederica’s betrayal means further trouble in Sanctuary. We need to be careful, particularly after Emilia failed to pass the first segment of the trial.”
“Hmmmm… It is true. Still, I am worried for Emilia if something were to happen to you while you are away. You keep Emilia company in her most trying times after all.”
You keep tapping on your knee nervously. If Roswaal agrees to allow you to leave Sanctuary for this task, you risk running into that terrifyingly sexy freak, that Elsa Granhiert, again. You have no doubt that she would murder you again, and you would possibly end up helping her to reach her climax. You aren’t in the mood for such games when the lives of your friends, that Petra trainee, as well as your beloved Rem are on the line.
You raise your gaze towards Roswaal, who was waiting patiently for you to continue.
“Lord Roswaal, you look like a man of culture, with all that clown makeup. Does the nickname Bowel Hunter ring any bells?”
Roswaal narrows his eyes, and he observes your expression as if looking for some revelatory detail. You grow seriously uncomfortable under the gaze of his disturbing clown face.
“Why of course it does! Everyone who holds any power in this kingdom needs to know about miss Elsa Granhiert, their very lives could depend on it. The question is, why is she relevant to our predicament? Surely you understand that your question seems disconnected from the rest of our conversation.”
You open and close your mouth, trying to come up with a proper response. You cannot tell him that Elsa Granhiert has been contracted to murder everyone at his mansion. You can’t come up with a source of that information other than revealing that you can travel back to the past whenever you die, and that’s something you can’t imagine yourself telling to this clown. You sigh.
“I heard scary stories about this woman and how she works from the shadows, and given that Frederica was acting shady, both people connected in my mind.”
“I see, I see”, Roswaal says, scratching his chin. “Now that you mention it, miss Granhiert is an excellent shadow. Scary that a woman like her exists in this world. However, you shouldn’t need to worry about her at the moment. Are you aware of her trade, then?”
“Uh… She’s a professional assassin?”
“Assassin doesn’t quite cover all of her, but yes, it’s correct to an extent. She’s a hunter, but she uses a very wide definition of the word ‘prey.’ Anything alive that can feel pain is her preferred prey, even animals, but she prefers humans above all. Doesn’t matter who they are or what they’ve done. And she’s so good at it that it has turned into a very lucrative profession for her. Many important people hire her preemptively only to make sure she focuses on other targets.”
You fail to contain your spine from trembling. You swallow the knot in your throat.
“Holy fuck. How would one stop such a monster, Roswaal…?”
“Unfortunately, if she’s hired to kill you, you can’t. In such an unfortunate case, Death itself is coming for you. However, you needn’t worry about it! Nobody would want to pay to kill you, Subaru, even if you ruffled some feathers with your very public display of defiance at the royal summons.”
You tighten your lips. None of you expected the ambush that ruined your Rem, as well as stole Crusch’s memories. You have no clue what’s actually going on in this world.
“Yeah… I suppose so.”
“If I were you, I’d be more concerned about our dear Emilia’s attempts at passing the trials, but also about Frederica’s strange behavior. Forget about the Bowel Hunter. She is a monster in the closet.”
Roswaal winks at you. You shift uncomfortably on the wooden chair. You are the monster in the closet, Roswaal, you think.
“Ah… Getting back on track, will you allow me then to jump onto my ground dragon and travel back to your mansion to speak with Frederica? It will be a quick sort of deal.”
Roswaal closes his eyes and sighs.
“You are one stubborn man. I can tell you won’t change your mind, so sure. Please do confront our Frederica and figure out what she intended with her underhanded behavior.”
You nod, happy that you succeeded for once.
“Well, great.”
“However, I will be concerned for your safety if you go by yourself. Despite your numerous strengths, fighting ability is not one of them.”
“Pfft, I’ll have you know I was a warrior of legends in my past life.”
Roswaal’s smile widens.
“If you say so, Subaru. But I want to be extra sure in any case.” He turns to Ram, who was standing to your left like a bouncer that can’t wait to throw you out as violently as possible. “Dear Ram, please do accompany Subaru to the mansion and make sure that no dark fate befalls him.”
Disturbed, Ram uncrosses her arms. She eyes her lord pleadingly.
“I do not wish to do that, lord.”
You feel sad. What did I do to you that was so bad, Ram?, you think. You are my sister-in-law and everything!
“Is it because of the sex in a barn thing, Ram?”, you ask with a thin voice.
Roswaal chuckles.
“Oh, please do tell what you refer to. Ram, have you been involved in such a way with our soon to be knight?”
You wince as Ram’s cheeks redden. Her eyes avert from her lord’s and she mumbles something incomprehensible.
“What was that, Ram?”, Roswaal asks with his lilting tone. “I couldn’t hear you properly, my dear servant.”
“I said no!”, she answers in a louder tone. “I have not, I did not. Barusu has an improper imagination that he keeps tangling innocent people in.”
“Yeah, sorry for threatening you with a good time, Ram”, you say, feeling hollow all of a sudden.
Ram seethes with anger.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know it would hurt you like that”, you say in a low voice. “I keep blurting out stuff because it just pops into my mouth, and I can’t stop myself. I guess that I was feeling so despondent that when I stared at someone as stoic and strong and pink-haired and whose long, slender legs look so good in those stockings, I wanted you to share some of your essence. I didn’t mean anything bad.”
Ram squeezes her eyes shut, clenches her fists and turns her face away.
“Stop! Stop now, Barusu! Apologies aren’t enough for the things you say!”
“I don’t know what else to do! I’m trying, really!”
You touch your chest and then reach out with your left hand towards her. Seeing this, Ram holds her head with both hands.
“I’ve heard enough! I will not remain here and be insulted by you any longer! I won’t!”
“I’m not insulting you at all! I’m praising your qualities, if anything! Ram, you are the best Spartan I have ever met, and I’m proud that you became my sister-in-law. I want nothing more than to take care of you as your dear sort of brother for the rest of my life!”
She gives you a scornful look, and then turns away.
“I need to be away from you right now… I don’t think I can trust myself to not kill you.”
“It’s that bad!?”
Roswaal raises his hand in a motion to stop your confrontation. His smile has faded, and he’s even frowning. Ram must be serious then.
“Ram, please calm yourself. You must understand that our Subaru is young and still developing. Don’t allow some careless words of his to get to you. And surely you understand he doesn’t mean any harm.”
Ram has barely turned her face towards her lord when you open your mouth again.
“Ram… If it will satisfy you, just kill me. It’s alright. It would be a honor to be murdered by your hands.”
You bow slightly on the chair as a sign of respect, but your humility and kindness does nothing to change her expression. Ram presses her hands against the sides of her head and seems to be muttering something in between clenched teeth.
“Do it…”, you plead. “You mustn’t suffer the wicked. Kill me, Ram.”
Roswaal raises his hands and makes a clapping motion, which breaks the tension.
“Enough! The pair of you!”
With that, Ram hastily turns towards the door and leaves the house, leaving you and Roswaal alone. She doesn’t look back even once before closing the door.
“I’ll… admit, I was not expecting such a reaction from her”, you say sheepishly, barely able to hold the clown’s gaze. “I suppose I’ve offended her several times in the past, but never to this degree.”
“Hm, I suppose she is quite proud of her heritage.”
“Even so, I don’t think that pride could turn into this sort of passion.”
“Clearly it has. I suggest you tread carefully around her. Not only is she is our senior servant, but if she wished she could easily kill you and only few would be able to stop her. However, this confrontation only served to emphasize for me that you both need to work together better. Return to Ryuzu’s home, Barusu, and I will convince our dear Ram to accompany you back home.”
“That’s not necessary, I-“
“I will send Ram with you, so this matter is settled. Speak with whomever you need, as well as prepare yourself properly, so you can leave for the mansion as soon as possible. You have done a good job of surviving this far, Subaru.”

You have pulled Emilia into Ryuzu’s guest room so you can speak to her about your departure.
“You are leaving!?”, Emilia asks with confused dismay. “But you told me you would be there for me tonight, after I attempt to pass the trial again!”
“I’m sorry, I really wanted to be there for you, but we’ve got to figure out why Frederica betrayed us like that. Besides, that scary Ram is going to accompany me as my personal demon bodyguard, so I have nothing to worry about. I don’t even have to get terrified about extremely proficient contract killers!”
Emilia lowers her face slightly, and her lips turn down with sadness.
“I need you here, Subaru…”, she says with a voice that pierces your heart. “And I miss your touch already.”
You put your hand on her waist to sit her next to each other on the bed.
“I know, but this came up. Look, I’ll be back tomorrow at the latest, and I’m sure you’ll be fine without me there to cheer you on.”
“But… I feel like for once things are getting better for me…”
You pat her on the head and give her a warm smile.
“They will continue to get better. You just have to trust in that.”
Emilia smiles back, though it’s obvious she is forcing herself to do so.
“Be careful, okay?”
“Of course I will.”
You stroke her beautiful face, then taste her rosy lips. She opens her mouth and plays with your tongue while she grabs the back of your shirt. You are getting the tingles all over.
“I love you, Emilia, and we belong to each other”, you murmur.
“Yes… Yes, we do…”
She keeps kissing you and rubbing your back. You really don’t want to leave this room right now. As Emilia lets out little noises of pleasure, you gasp and pull away from the half-elf. Her face is flushed, and her eyes glisten. She’s holding the tip of her tongue between her lips, as if beckoning for you to kiss her again.
“Emilia, I completely forgot!”, you say, suddenly breathless. “Last night I filled you with cum! You might be pregnant already!”
“I know… but that’s what I want.”
“Eh?”
“I want to have your child, Subaru. Whether later in life or now, I’ll take it as it comes. If it turns out that our child has begun to grow in my womb, I will be so happy.”
“Emilia, you really…”
“No, Subaru, it’s not just the lust talking. I’ve thought about this long and hard. You… You don’t have any special powers, but you have so much love to give. I want a baby… your baby inside of me. I want to carry on your legacy. I want to become large and round with your child.”
You feel as warm as if dunked in a steaming bath. Those purple eyes are staring at you as if you are the only person in the world who matters. Before you know it your heart beats so hard, and your dick is so hard, that you can think of little else than taking off Emilia’s dress and making sweet love to her sexy self.
“Um… Emilia”, you begin with a shivering voice. “You understand that if you get pregnant you might not be able to complete your trials, right? And furthermore, what about the race for the throne? I suppose that the medallion’s enchantment won’t disqualify you because you are pregnant, but showing up in front of that council of decrepit bastards again while pregnant with your knight’s child doesn’t precisely award you points towards eventually sitting on that throne, would it? You need to think strategically as well, or else you will ruin your ambitions!”
You try to put on a caring, concerned face, but it’s hard when your body is bursting with the need to shoot another load into her, even thought it would undermine your side of the argument.
Emilia, with a sad look, moves closer to your face and speaks down to you, her voice almost a whisper.
“I didn’t choose the public life I’m currently living because I wanted to be queen, you know that. I mainly want it for something personal. If we get blessed with a child, then I’ll build everything up around our new family. Just the thought of putting our child to sleep and then going to bed, getting naked and you kissing me, caressing me, licking me down there… Ah, I’m breathing so hard already…”
Emilia rubs your chest with her palm as she bites her lips. You swallow while you feel sweat beading on your forehead. You might come in your pants. Didn’t you need to leave for some place, prevent something from happening…?
“Well, if you think that having our baby as soon as possible will make you happy, then I suppose I’ll try to do it. I mean, its not like I have anything better planned.”
“Yes! Oh thank you, Subaru! Now, kiss me! Show my body that you love it!”
You fill each other’s mouths with each other’s tongues while you fondle her ass cheeks.
“Mm… Nng… Let’s go… Take everything off…” Emilia says with a sexy voice while she rubs your chest with her hands.
You undress, and so does Emilia, who is now completely naked. You throw your clothes all over the floor. After you lay the half-elf on the bed, you move next to her and lick one of her pink nipples while you slide the middle finger of your other hand between her drenched pussy lips.
“Ah! That’s right… Rub there… Lick me…”
You lick her other nipple while you squeeze that breast with your hand. You hum as you enjoy pleasuring her. She puts both of her hands on the back of your head, rubbing and scratching it, while she pushes your head into her bosom. Her legs tremble a bit, and she lets out a long sigh.
“Fuck…” she whispers.
“Are you loving it, you sexy girl?”, you ask with a hungry voice.
“Yes…!”
“You are both out of your minds”, Ram’s voice says from the door.
Emilia and you turn your heads sharply toward the voice. The senior servant is standing with her arms crossed in front of the closed door, her face pale, and glaring at you both with her eyes wide. Her mouth is twisted in a grimace.
“Shit, Ram’s here!”, you say while sitting up. “Fuck, hide! Quick!”
“But she’s already staring at us!”, Emilia says, confused, and covers her moist breasts with her hands.
You clear your throat. Due to the angle you are sitting at, your erect penis is pointed at the senior servant.
“Hm, is something wrong, Ram?”
“Wrong? I should think so”, she says with a hoarse voice. “What are you both doing naked, rubbing and licking each other…?”
“It’s called sex, Ram. You wouldn’t know about it, I guess… But it’s some stuff we do. It’s perfectly innocent, I assure you.”
“Not with her, you don’t!”
“What, you don’t think Emilia is good enough for me? You better apologize, Ram, or else I’ll get real angry even though you could kill me in an instant.”
You give a harsh glance at Ram, who stands there squinting her eyes as she tries to hold in her anger. She breathes out slowly, holds her hands into fists and takes a few steps in your direction, before stopping again.
“You are going to ruin everything, Barusu, by tangling our princess in your disgusting games. You will prevent her from sitting on that throne.”
Emilia, although she has blushed hard, covers both of her breasts with a forearm while she extends her free hand towards Ram.
“Ram, it’s uncomfortable that you got to see us like this, but there’s nothing wrong. We love each other and we are very passionate. So much so what we forgot to close the door properly…”
“Lady Emilia, please shut up”, she says firmly without looking at her. “Barusu, I thought that despite your looks, your words and your actions, there was a modicum of worth in you. I made such a mistake that I should commit ritual suicide.”
You stand up from the bed, naked as the day you were born. Ram glances down at your wobbling, mostly erect penis.
“Look Ram… I’m still me!”, you plead to her. “You might hate what you’re seeing right now, but that’s just how it is. Emilia and I love each other! You can’t be that mad about two people in love. I wish you would know love yourself, Ram, so you would understand. I would have loved to show you love at some points ever since I first met you, but you wouldn’t open up your heart!”
Ram narrows her eyes as her fists tremble.
“Do not presume to know my heart, Barusu. I am a servant of the highest caliber! I’ve dedicated my very existence to serving lord Roswaal until the fateful day my life comes to an end! You know nothing about me!”
“But I want to know more! Ram, you’re one of my best friends! If you would just open up-“
The tremors in her fists move up to her head. Overwhelmed, she turns away from your naked selves.
“Away from me, away from me, your foul stench offends me.”
Ram slams the bedroom door. You stand there stunned, staring at the closed door while your ears ring. You swallow and turn towards Emilia. She’s no longer covering her pretty breasts, but instead looks up at you sheepishly with those beautiful purple eyes.
“Did… we make a mistake?”, you ask.
“No. We just need to be patient”, Emilia says sweetly.
You nod. You walk up to the bed and kneel down in front of Emilia, who is turning to sit on the edge of the bed. The sight of her gorgeous, wet pussy is making you drool.
“Emilia, please tell me you want me to eat you out as a farewell”, you murmur.
“I do, Subaru.”
You don’t need any more encouragement.

As you walk away from Ryuzu’s home in the direction of the stables where your beloved Patrasche must be lazing around, you spot Otto as he prattles to some confused half-wolf local villagers. When the merchant spots you and he turns to face you, the villagers excuse themselves and walk away. When you get closer to your pal you realize that he’s drunk. His eyes are glazed, and he sways in place. He offers you a wide smile and pats your shoulder.
“Mr. Natsuki! The luckiest, most blessed man in this world! How are you doing, sir?”
“I’m fine, but you seem pretty drunk for so early in the day, Otto. What’s going on?”
Otto laughs a bit too loudly.
“Drunk? Moi? No, sir! I have taken merely two cups of cider! I am more hydrated than ever!”
As you wonder why you heard a French word in there, the merchant pats his chest to assure you. You nod and sigh.
“Alright then, Otto. I’m glad you feel better. This morning during our meeting it looked as if you had come down with some stomach bug or something. Really soured our meeting a bit.”
“I apologiiiize, sir. It shan’t happen again. Let’s talk about the future!”
“I’m kind of short on time at the moment, but sure. What future are you referring to?”
Otto grins as he stares. You begin to feel uneasy. He points a skinny finger at you.
“The future of course! Your future! Our future! Our beautiful future together! You have the brightest future under the sun and the stars, being able to love and be loved by the most wonderful woman who ever lived. Luckiest man there is…”
You frown as you begin to realize how intoxicated the merchant is.
“Otto, I have to…”
“Do you believe in destiny?”
You pause and look at him. You’ve never really given the concept much thought, but you still understand the general idea of it.
“Yeah, I guess so, or maybe not. What does that have to do with anything now, though?”
“Everything! Everything, I tell you!”
Otto raises his voice louder and louder. Some of the half-beast villagers who walk around are staring at the pair of you, then some glance at each other with concern, but nobody intervenes.
“Do you believe that you and our lovely, pure princess were destined to meet?”, Otto continues. “Was it a love written in the stars, the stuff that songs are written about?”
“I don’t know, man. I love her enormously, but I also love my girlfriend, my other girlfriend I guess, my beloved Rem, enormously as well. I’m confused at the moment. All I know is that it feels so good to hold Emilia’s hand, kiss her sweet mouth, play with her small tits, eat out her hot pussy, and feel her tight insides wrapped around my dick, that I can’t help but get obsessed with her at the moment, you know?”
You take a quick breath. It is at that moment when you realize you’ve been speaking your mind for a while. You didn’t even notice the villagers gawking at you for a few moments, nor did you hear the quiet sobs and sniffles of the man in front of you.
Otto’s shoulders begin to shake as he bursts into tears.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Natsuki, I’m sorry. I can’t…”
You pat his shoulder.
“It’s alright, you are drunk out of your mind and people can get emotional for no reason during such periods. Your breath reeks of alcohol, too.”
“I’m sorry. But your breath also smells different, Mr. Natsuki…”
You open your mouth wide and blow on your palm. After you take a good whiff, you nod.
“You are right, my breath smells like Emilia’s insides. I finished eating her out a couple of minutes ago. Although we were pressed on time, I think she came even harder now… What a sweet girl she is.”
Otto’s eyes widen. He sniffs and turns away from you.
“I don’t want to hear anymore… You two are getting married soon anyway… I’m happy for you…” He wipes his tears and takes a deep breath. “No, I need to stop being sad. This is a joyous day! Rejoice!”
You laugh.
“Old pal, you get weirder every day! I think you need to get some rest, and in general take better care of yourself.”
Otto sighs loudly.
“I’ll try, Mr. Natsuki.”
You wave goodbye, but he was already wandering away.
You continue to the stables. Your good girl Patrasche is waiting outside, near the path. When you get close enough, she looks up at you and whinnies, clearly happy to see you. Your smile fades immediately, though, because the senior servant is standing right next to your ground dragon. Ram has crossed her arms and is trying to murder you with her stare.
“You made me wait as well…” Ram says with a dry voice. “Made me wait…”
You pat Patrasche on the head and begin rubbing her chin.
“Ram, you can’t be so angry all the time. It’s no way to live. I keep trying to cheer you up, but you don’t want any of it. I’m doing my best here.”
“I was doing reasonably good… until you came along.”
Even though Patrasche is nuzzling you with her snout, you get annoyed.
“Damn it, Ram. We need to live in peace with each other, and I personally like you a lot even though you hate me! What can I do so you can be happy?”
Her right eye twitches, and a side of her mouth raises in disgust before she calms herself.
“Barusu, you knew I had been tasked to accompany you to confront Frederica at the mansion. Why did you make me wait this much after I caught both of you lunatics during your foul act?”
You wag your index finger to correct her.
“First of all, there was nothing foul about the act we were performing. Having sex with the person you love, one of them anyway, is the most natural and blessed act in this world or any other. I don’t like ass stuff, because it can get real nasty and you have a hole that lubricates naturally right next, so I never quite understood that, but I swear, if you would just let me, or someone else I mean, eat you out, you would feel more relaxed. You wouldn’t be on edge all the time. Sex solves everything in this world. If people didn’t attempt to kill other people and instead had sex with them, things wouldn’t get so grim.”
Her nostrils widen, and she parts her lips to show her clenched teeth. She’s breathing hard.
“I do not believe there are words in any language to properly express how much I despise you.”
“What the hell…”
“You call what you do sex? I’ll have you know that even an amateur prostitute isn’t as ‘lax’ as you seem to think these things are. You wouldn’t last a minute in bed with a real woman! I’ve seen whores toss men out of their rooms for doing the same thing you do!”
“Well, I guess it just goes to show that whores are idiots and don’t know good sex when they experience it. You only saw me licking Emilia’s pretty tits and rubbing her wet pussy. It’s not as if we showed you our whole performance. Besides, when did you, a complete prude, become the judge of how other people should have sex? You probably don’t even touch yourself.”
“Of course I don’t!”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t touch myself, you despicable fool!”
You feel sad. You are about to pat her shoulder when you realize that she might torture you to death.
“You are so lonely, Ram, it wrings my heart. If I could press a button that had you orgasming every thirty seconds, I would push it so much it would become muscle memory. You are beautiful, your pink hair is cool, you have a great body, you are super strong and can kill people with wind magic. You should be happier in this world or any other.”
Her eyes water. Ram quickly rushes at you, grabbing you by the collar of your shirt and lifting you into the air. Patrasche gets nervous and shifts her weight while looking at the both of you.
“I’ll never be happy, not in a hundred lifetimes”, Ram says with a hollow voice.
She throws you against a nearby tree. You fall to the ground and your bones hit it painfully, your hand feeling as if it’s broken.
“I have nothing to live for, not anymore at least”, Ram says. “I’ll only continue to exist until my purpose has been fulfilled, just like a puppet with its strings cut.”
Ram walks up to you then stares you down while tears stream down her cheeks.
“I can’t be your friend, I can’t even be your fucking enemy. I don’t know how to feel or what to think. All I know is that I need to get revenge. You say I’m lonely? I haven’t even felt loneliness yet.”
You have no answer for her, so you just sit there and let her tears hit your face. Both your back and your hands hurt bad. Patrasche growls at Ram from behind, but the ground dragon seems confused, as if she doesn’t understand why Ram would attack you.
“Get your revenge on me if you want, Ram”, you say with a pained, nearly breathless voice. “It will make you feel better.”
Ram kicks you in the side of the face, knocking out two of your teeth and sending fresh waves of pain throughout your body. You can’t even scream, the kick knocked the wind out of you.
“You don’t understand anything!”, Ram shouts.
She kneels down and grabs your throat, strangling it. You can’t react in any way, you just let her kill you. Her grip tightens, your eyes start to bug out, and then she stops.
“I’m… I’m sorry”, Ram says.
You manage to cough, even though Ram’s grasp has barely loosened around your throat.
“No, don’t stop, Ram. It was just getting good. You are feeling that anger, aren’t you? That sense of release. Go ahead, girl. I’m here for you.”
Her grip loosens even more, and you feel the life going back into your body. You wish she would just kill you.
“I… I am…”, Ram says with a shaky voice.
An angry, pained cry from Patrasche breaks the moment. Ram’s eyes widen as she looks behind her. You jump up and slam your fist into the side of Ram’s head. Although the punch made her body lean in the direction of the hit, she slowly straightens her back and looks at you surprised and confused.
“I told you not to stop, Ram!”, you shout with a hoarse voice. “What the fuck are you doing!?”
Patrasche takes the opportunity and bites down on Ram’s arm. The senior servant cries out in pain and falls backwards. You take advantage of the situation and get on top of her, slamming both your fists into her face repeatedly. Blood splashes your face.
“Why couldn’t you just fucking kill me?! I wanted to die! You were supposed to kill me!”
You feel your body losing strength, and you slow down. Ram grabs your shoulders and tosses you off of her. You roll on the ground and watch as Ram gets up and readies her stance. Her nose is broken and bleeding heavily, her right eye is bruised and half shut, and in her open mouth, through which she’s breathing heavily, her teeth are dyed red. A couple of teeth are missing. The bite in the senior servant’s arm looks real bad, the bone might be broken. Ram is looking at you with dead eyes.
“Come here, Ram, and finish the job”, you taunt her. “I have done little else than make life harder for you from the beginning, haven’t I? And you don’t even have a sister that would care for you. Come and end my life. I have fucked up enough in this run.”
The wind begins to pick up. Ram is hunched over, and her chest rises and falls deeply as the senior servant’s red eyes stare right through you.
“It was my de… destiny to lead the village one day… You took that away… Now the only thing left… is to pay you back for what you did…”
“Go on, Ram, and fulfill your duty. The world needs to be rid of me. There is nothing good in me that can make a difference, so just end my life.”
Ram leaps at you again, and you get a boot to your face. Although the senior servant tumbles over, she quickly catches herself with one hand. Patrasche appears suddenly in your field of vision, but Ram twists her body and throws such an uppercut against the ground dragon’s chin that it knocks the beast out. Ram turns towards you and drives the other fist into your nose, breaking it and causing blood to squirt out of it. Her own face is soaked in blood. You shake your head in pain, and when you spit blood at the grass to your side, you notice that a few teeth glisten.
“That’s good, Ram”, you say with a hoarse voice. “But you need to be harsher. This isn’t remotely enough pain yet.”
The wind picks up, and a branch falls down next to you. Some critter cries out and scurries into a hole in the ground. You can barely focus your vision as Ram throws another punch, breaking your other cheekbone. Your body is burning up, and you feel your muscles tear.
You can no longer recognize the face you see before you as being that of Ram. Her red eyes almost glow. With the blood oozing out of your mouth, it’s hard to speak or pronounce anything clearly.
“Crush my fucking brains in, Ram.”
Her hands clench into balls, and then she starts pounding your head with all her might. Her thumbs push deep into your eyes, blinding you in a shock of pain that courses through your whole body like an electrical explosion. Your chest heaves and your heart beats against your ribs. Then Ram snaps your neck with one clean twist.
Your body convulses on the ground, and blood leaks out of every orifice. The noises you make turn indiscernible. Ram stops hitting you as your body falls back, but she doesn’t let go of your arm for a few moments as if to ensure you’re dead.


Note from December of 2020:

This entry was a lot of fun until it wasn’t any longer. I guess it’s another failure to chalk up to the protagonist’s inability to deal with horrible news. The fact that the entry starts with Ram murdering the protagonist with her eyes only to end up murdering his eyes and then his entire self is somewhat poetic.

Note from May of 2021:

Although I was already very fond of my personal version of the abrasive, pink-haired servant, this was for me the chapter where I grew to love her. It’s too bad that I hate how the original author of “Re:Zero” paid off her entire arc regarding her natural need to avenge what was done to her.

Roleplaying through “Re:Zero” with the GPT-3 story generator (Part 52)

This entry covers part of the eleventh volume of the original “Re:Zero” novels.

In the previous entry the protagonist got seriously annoyed with the people in his life, because they don’t hold memories of realities they haven’t lived through. Then the protagonist discarded his comatose girlfriend in favor of some delicious half-elf pussy.


It must be around seven in a chilly morning, and the sun rays are crashing against the canopy of the enveloping forest without warming the village properly. You are leaning on a wooden fence and staring down at the pond you saw Garfiel throwing bread into. You concentrate on observing those fish-like creatures swimming under the fern-colored surface of the water. Anything, really, that will take you away from the burning guilt in your chest that makes it harder for you to breathe. You feel as if there was something important you were holding onto but that you have lost, and even if you die and return to the past a million times, you won’t ever recover it.
“Ah, so you are here, Mr. Natsuki”, Otto’s lively voice sounds from the path behind you. “Enjoying an early morning walk? I guess there’s no real trouble with it, given that these people won’t attack us even though they restrain us in their village. Still, I’m sure it’s better to know where every one of us is!”
Your mood worsens, even though you know that Otto doesn’t have ill intentions towards you. You barely turn your head towards the side from where he’s approaching you.
“Did you come across me casually, Otto? Did you want to enjoy a morning walk as well?”
Otto puts his hands on the wooden fence a meter and a half away from you. Despite the merchant’s congenial voice, even before he got to look at your face he must have realized that something was wrong, although not in the way a physical attack on the people he likes is wrong.
“No, I usually avoid getting up early in the morning!”, Otto says with a smile and closing his eyes. “Often because I don’t want to handle the usual hangover. I’m feeling it a bit from last night… However, I’m not that comfortable in Sanctuary, so I suspect I’ll end up becoming a light sleeper if this continues.”
Noticing that you choose not to answer, and that your skin color probably looks as if you are a couple of minutes away from puking, he puts on a serious face and holds your gaze.
“Mr. Natsuki, you seem troubled. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. I’ll just leave you alone. But if you feel like opening your heart, please allow me to hear it. Everyone has something they can’t bear within themselves.”
“That’s awfully nice for a merchant. Did someone put you up to this, finding me I mean?”
Otto chuckles dryly.
“I’m afraid so. Our lovely lady Emilia was asking for you. She seemed worried in a way that suggests unfinished business instead of fearing you would be found lying dead in a ditch, and because she has already blessed me with her trust, she asked me to please find you and make sure you aren’t acting wildly. Such a request coming from our princess herself, I could never refuse!”
You hang your head low. You don’t feel as if you deserve to hold even Otto’s gaze.
“Otto, I have fucked up real bad”, you say with a low voice.
“We all could tell you were troubled by something last night. Can you tell me what happened?”
“I’m the lowest of the low, Otto. Truly, I’m the worst scum in this dimension, as well of any dimension I’m aware. I hurt the most important person in my life, someone who can’t even defend herself, someone who relies on me to even remember she exists, and I betrayed her like this.”
“Can… can you tell me what happened?”
You turn towards Otto. You aren’t sure what face you are making, but he looks concerned. You swallow, then put your hands on the merchant’s shoulders.
“I did something to Emilia that I should have never done. A bunch of things, in fact. None of which should have happened.”
“It’s okay. Just take a deep breath and tell me.”
“No, it isn’t fucking okay, Otto…”, you say with a serious voice. “Emilia and I snuggled in bed, we kissed, I ate out her delicious pussy, and then I creamed inside of her.”
Otto’s eyes widen in shock. Then he forces a smile out of a corner of his mouth as if you are making a weird, tasteless joke.
“Surely you must be jesting! Lady Emilia is such a pure, proper princess, and the future ruler of this kingdom no doubt! Please, tell me what really happened!”
You squeeze Otto’s shoulders and shake him a bit. He goes paler.
“I wish I could, Otto. I would love to break into laughter and announce that I just made one of my many tasteless comments, but I can’t. I still feel the welcoming warmth of her pussy, that overwhelming, surprisingly sweet smell, and that warm nectar in my mouth that I would gladly drink instead of every other liquid for the rest of my life. I woke up this morning with the feeling of her pussy lips against the sides of my chin, and I almost took care of myself right then only to remember that it wasn’t another wet dream! I was lying in the dark next to the very Emilia whose delicious pussy I ate out hours before. I didn’t even brush my teeth, so I can still taste her in my mouth! I drank so much of it, too…”
“Stop! Stop! You are scaring me, Mr. Natsuki!”
You let go of his shoulders and hunch over to look at the grass.
“Sorry, I got carried away. But I got even more carried away last night is what I meant. I truly ravaged Emilia’s clit with my tongue, and she was overjoyed about it. After she came in my mouth, I broke through her hymen with my erect penis and then pumped into her until I filled her with my cum. She might be already pregnant for all I know.”
“Whaaaaa!? You can’t be serious!”
“But I am. She was a virgin. I was shocked too when she told me. A half-elf that hot. She was also very happy that she gave her virginity to me.”
Otto shakes his head. He’s breaking in sweat.
“No, Mr. Natsuki! It’s a misunderstanding!”
You frown.
“A misunderstanding? Then you’re saying that I didn’t ravish our princess in Ryuzu’s guest bed last night? When I licked Emilia’s little button as the warmth of her pussy drenched my mouth and chin, was I eating some random fruit that had been lying around? When Emilia wrapped her arms and her legs around me, preventing me from escaping even as I was about to shoot a huge load of semen inside of her welcoming uterus, was I balls-deep into a barn animal instead? I assure you, there was no misunderstanding: I utterly fucked our half-elf last night, and her body might be already working on figuring out how it can build something resembling a human being from my rotten DNA!”
The merchant covers his face and takes a deep breath, terrified by your brutal and vivid words. He then speaks to you in a firm but calm tone.
“No… None of that happened.”
You lean forward and look at him.
“What? The fuck are you talking about, Otto?”
“I’m talking about the fact that you didn’t desecrate lady Emilia last night.”
You slowly lean back, as you attempt to process what he just said.
“What are you talking about then? I was there! I didn’t see it, because it was pitch black, but I felt every moment of it!”
“Well, you only felt what they wanted you to feel.”
You shake your head as you try to find the words. You couldn’t think straight already when you woke up, and now you fear you will start going along with whatever Otto means.
“Who is this ‘they’, Otto!? Who creates completely realistic simulations of me eating out Emilia’s pussy and then fucking her until I inseminate her!?”
Otto, wide-eyed, waves his hands in front of his face as if attempting to grasp something invisible.
“I don’t know. It’s magic, Echidna’s magic. Something to do with the barrier that surrounds the village.”
“What, there’s magic involved? So that Witch of Greed decided to mess with me and create this… this very realistic dream?”
“Ah… Well, Mr. Natsuki, the dream only encompassed those horrible acts you spoke to me about and that involved the pure lady Emilia! Everything else has been real.”
You smack your face with your palm.
“Of course it fucking was! Fuck, man. I have been so confused recently. Of course I didn’t lick Emilia’s delicious pussy until she filled my mouth with her warm juices, and later on I shoved my nasty penis inside her god-tier, tight pussy! That couldn’t have happened even in this fantasy world!” You fall to your knees, then lean forward slowly until you support yourself on the grass with your hands. “I never betrayed Rem, my lovely Rem, the love of my life, my blessed demon servant! I wouldn’t abandon you like that, my love. This all was a witch-created nightmare. I’m sorry for being such a horny scumbag.”
Otto pats you on the back.
“I’m not sure apologies will erase the images you pushed into my mind, Mr. Natsuki. And quite frankly… I don’t think any of us are worthy of lady Emilia’s love, even though I know I will forever dream of holding her smooth, delicate hand and walking with the princess through flower fields under the sun.”
You stand back up, and start walking towards the path. You are getting way too dizzy. Even if you don’t feel nauseous, you want to be, to throw up everything that hurts inside.
“Where are you going?”, Otto asks cautiously. “Shouldn’t we return to Ryuzu’s home? Lady Emilia wanted to know if you are okay!”
“I really need to piss right now. And I can’t hold it.”
“Well, just go behind a tree or something. Is there any other sort of public bathroom in that area of the village?”
“I tried pissing behind a tree. I really had to go, so I squatted down and my dick fell off. It’s still back there, behind that tree.”
Otto stares at you in confusion for a moment. You try to laugh, but you start crying. You fall to your knees again and sob to your heart’s content.
“My dick just goes away! It keeps leaving me. I didn’t deserve to have you, and now you have realized it as well. I wasn’t worth it.”
Otto awkwardly pats you on the back.
“I can’t imagine how much you must be hurting because your beloved is sleeping for… a long time. You should be thankful you had her. I think you should find someone new, like a pretty girl in this village. I believe anyone could get over the half-beast part quick. If there’s someone out there that loves you, even with all your problems, well, then that’s something worth being happy about.”
The tears are running down your wrists of the hands you are hiding your face with. You speak in between sobs.
“Back when my Rem was conscious, I should have cut my dick off and hidden it inside of her. That way my brain wouldn’t imagine me betraying her with almost every other female I come across! I wish I wasn’t a person, Otto. If I had been born a tree, life would have been so easy.”
“Do you really hate yourself that much? Even though I don’t know you that well, I don’t think you’re that sort of person. You seem like a realist to me. You just described to me the life of an average man in this world. Not everyone is blessed with gifts and abilities, and even if you have them, it doesn’t mean they’ll help you in the long run. I myself can speak to animals, and even insects! I was born with that blessing, or curse. But I can’t stop myself from hearing them! It made my childhood so hard! I ended up running away from home for issues related to such a condition.”
You stop crying and look up at him to figure out if he’s pulling your leg, but he holds your gaze with sympathy.
“You can’t hear animals, Otto. That’s pure nonsense. It’s a simulation that the Witch of Greed created to confuse you.”
“No, I swear I can hear bees buzzing right now! Maybe they’re trying to warn us about something…”
“Maybe you are just insane. Take a deep breath and relax.”
He breathes deeply in and out.
“I’m not insane.”
You nod slowly.
“Yes, I’m sure you are… Okay then, let’s go back to Emilia, so she knows she has no reason to worry.”

As you open the door to Ryuzu’s living room, Emilia alone is standing there with her hand resting on the back of a chair. She’s wearing her gorgeous, expensive-looking white dress lined with purple. She looks worried for a split second, but when she sees it’s you, she welcomes you with a glowing smile and walks up to you.
“Sorry to get worried, but… Well, let’s speak in private.”
As Otto, who was looking at Emilia with his usual smile that reveals his infatuation, opens his mouth to speak, Emilia strokes your cheek lovingly and then stands on her tiptoes to press her warm lips against yours. A noise of dismay escapes through Otto’s open mouth, but then she pushes a hand against it to shut himself up. He’s gone white and looks appalled, as if someone had stabbed him in the heart and he had wandered through the empty streets leaving a trail of blood, and now he sat against a wall waiting to die. He lowers his head and turns around.
“I-I’ll make myself scarce, lady Emilia.”
“Thank you for your understanding, Otto.” Emilia holds your hand. “Let’s go to the guest room.”
You nod and follow her. When the door is closed behind you, she sits on the bed and pats on it, expecting you to sit next to her. You do so, and with a hand she moves your face towards her to kiss you deeply. As her tongue plays with yours, the barriers that had protected you against the onslaught that the guilt was subjecting your sanity to break down, so the guilt comes flooding in like water through an emergency exit. Holy shit, you actually had sex with Emilia last night, and you truly drank the nectar pouring from the half-elf’s heavenly pussy. So you did spit on Rem’s comatose face. Even if she ends up waking up, you will never be able to take this back.
You are a horrible person. You are an evil, rotten piece of shit that deserves nothing but damnation, and that’s exactly what you’ll get for your sins.
Emilia has pulled away and is staring at your crying face. She’s dismayed. She hugs you tighly and strokes your head. Her warmth soothes you, and her remaining saliva in your mouth tastes so good you would have taken shots of it without even knowing her.
“I’m aware, Subaru. I can’t properly understand how bad you must feel about your relationship with Rem now, but it’s okay to feel guilty. You are so loyal and you love so deeply, that you would have ruined your entire life being the partner of someone who can’t even think about you anymore. Don’t worry, we will keep taking care of her. We’ll bring her along with us wherever we go, make sure she remains safe.”
You sniffle. You embrace Emilia again, pressing your cheek against hers, and you wait to speak until you are sure your voice won’t break.
“I loved so much eating you out, Emilia. Your pussy tasted so good, I thought I was in heaven. I wanted nothing more than to keep licking you for the rest of my life. And having you hugging me tightly like that, not wanting to push me away as I was about to fill you with cum… I fear falling so hard in love with you that I will forget about everyone else I’ve ever met.”
She caresses your head, and you feel her mouth smile against your cheek.
“Good.”
You pull back, surprised by her response.
“What do you mean ‘good’?”
She smiles more, now showing all her teeth.
“Because I feel the same way.”
You look down at her beautiful mouth, those moist, rosy lips. You hold her head with both hands and shove your tongue into her mouth. You both lick each other’s tongues slowly as your hands caress her graceful neck and her silky hair. The blood rushes to your head as you begin to breathe heavily. You push Emilia down and get on top of her, careful to not crush her with your weight. Emilia wraps her legs around you, and you can feel your bulge rubbing against her warm crotch through the fabric.
“I want so bad to be inside you right now”, you say with a dry voice.
Her gorgeous, flushed face looks a bit disappointed.
“We can’t now, Ryuzu was coming over to speak about the trials. I want it bad as well, but don’t worry, regardless of how I do at the trial tonight, us making love again will erase every pain.”
You take a deep breath, and wonder how you will get through that meeting while blue balled.
“Alright, but you better get that pussy ready, Emilia, because tonight I’m going to lick you dry.”
“I bet you will, Subaru.”
You get off of her and sit on the bed. She sighs pleasantly, then stands up and walks towards the door to leave the room first. You stare at her ass as it moves left and right with each step.

Despite the whole blackmailing thing, you can’t find fault in how this Ryuzu elf is taking care of your needs. After all of you gather in her living room, she prepares some delicious tea and cinnamon cookies. You get now why Garfiel refers to her as gran. You would end up calling grandma any person who treated you like Ryuzu, regardless of her age or gender. Otto is present, but he looks as if she wishes he could disappear. He’s hunched over while holding his teacup with both hands, and his unfocused gaze looks through the table. At some points you could swear he was about to drool.
Emilia, who is holding your hand on her thigh, explains that despite her failure at passing the first trial, she’s determined to try over and over until she succeeds. Ryuzu looks concerned, having heard Emilia’s cries and having witnessed her delusional state.
You clear your throat.
“Emilia, everyone, I’d like to suggest an alternative. I will pass the trials so Emilia doesn’t suffer.”
The half-elf turns her head towards you sharply. You are surprised by the dismay in her face, as if she hadn’t expected those words coming from you.
“What do you mean, Subaru? Don’t you risk yourself for me, not anymore!”
“As if I will stop doing that. Are you kidding me? Now more than ever!”
“How are you so sure you would be able to pass them anyway?”
Garfiel tsks, then takes a sip of his tea like a gentleman.
“Evil eyes passed the first trial when he ran inta that tomb to rescue ya, princess. Half-pint got ta visit his parents an’ all! Nice, smooth ride, ain’t it? So yeah, he thinks the rest of them trials will turn out to be that easy.”
Emilia looks at both of you, confused.
“It’s true, lady Emilia”, Ryuzu says calmly. “Your knight rushed into the tomb caring nothing about his own safety, and he carried you out so we could return back home and place you on the guest bed. Of course, at the moment he entered the antechamber, because the magic traps didn’t kill him for some unknown reason, his trial began. He already surmised that maybe our lady of Sanctuary wouldn’t accept his efforts if she considers him too boring, though. I have my doubts that she would reject him.”
“Forget ’bout that. Ya ain’t gonna pass the trials, half-pint”, Garfiel says, annoyed.
“What do you mean?”, you ask.
Emilia shakes her head and intercedes. Her voice sounds troubled.
“No, I’ll do it. I promised I would do this!”
You turn your torso on the chair to stare into her eyes properly, and you hold her hand with both of yours.
“I love you, Emilia. I don’t want you to suffer any longer. That trial will force you to face your past, and in other circumstances it would be valuable to work slowly through everything that went wrong in your cute life. But for now the past is the past, and we need to cherish the present and future.”
You realize that both Ryuzu and Garfiel are looking at you confounded.
“Ya love the shy princess, huh?”, the punk asks, between embarrassed and amused. “Poor bastard, that escaped yer mouth! Can’t take that back now!”
Emilia blushes, but she clears her throat and smiles at the blackmailers.
“He said it freely because there’s no need to hide it. I love him as well. We are a couple.”
The room falls silent. Hearing someone as great as Emilia, so elegant and beautiful, royalty no less, declare her love for you… This must truly be one of Echidna’s simulations.
Garfiel snaps his head back, wide-eyed, and his hand drops into his tea the cookie he was holding. Ryuzu chuckles and claps once.
“That’s great”, Ryuzu says with a smile. “I hope that true love helps you get through the trials, lady Emilia. I figure it must improve your chances quite a bit.”
“But I said I wanted to pass them in her place, though”, you remind them, then turn to Emilia. “My dear Emilia, you don’t remember any of the contents of the trial you went through, right?”
She’s surprised, and observes your expression with her trembling purple pupils as if she had missed something along the way. Then she gets sad.
“That’s true… I can’t remember any of it.”
“Then you will face the trial over and over without learning anything about the previous attempt! That’s a recipe for utter disaster, Emilia! I can’t have my lovely woman going through that nightmare.”
Emilia frowns slightly, looking like a rebellious child, but as she opens her mouth to speak, Garfiel speaks loudly and seriously, startling you both.
“Nah, ya ain’t gonna attempt to pass them trials again, half-pint.”
“Garfiel, you don’t tell her what to do”, you say while washing down your cookie with a gulp of tea, “Apologize to the princess.”
He grimaces in annoyed confusion, then shakes his head and flashes his sharp, triangular teeth.
“Haah!? Ain’t gonna confuse me! Yer the half-pint, evil eyes! I’ll repeat meself again, ’cause now I ain’t even sure if I said it right! Hot princess will try to pass them trials, not ya!”
“Hey, she’s my hot princess. Have some respect.”
Garfiel narrows his eyes and tilts his head.
“I’ll say whatever I damn want, half-pint! Ya ain’t even addressin’ whut I just said! Don’t tryna pretend ya didn’t hear me!”
Emilia had lowered her head and closed her eyes, but she straightens her back again to speak up.
“Please, don’t fight anymore.” She turns towards you and raises her hand to her chest. “Subaru, I understand and appreciate how worried you are about me, but I don’t want you to coddle me. I can’t give up just because the trial will be hard, just because it will hurt me. So many trials await me in the future, on the path to sitting on that throne… You can’t keep saving me from struggling by myself.”
Although she had said it sweetly, with an understanding voice, your heart hurts because she took your concern that way.
“Emilia… What if you never pass the trials?”
“Then I’ll try again. And again. And again. And again, until I do.”
“That’s not the point…”
You sigh, and scratch your head. As you look up at her beautiful purple eyes again, for a split second you recognize a look in her eyes, a strength you could say, that she must have gotten from her adoptive father Puck. A determination to get over the past and become stronger, to achieve greater things than she ever has before. Unfortunately regarding her attempts at passing the trials, she also inherited Puck’s uselessness.

The meeting finishes shortly after. Garfiel and Ryuzu leave the house and walk further into the dreary village with a destination only the both of them know. You excuse yourself from Emilia and Otto, although the merchant hasn’t opened his mouth nor reacted to anything, and you run up to the couple of blackmailers as they turn a corner on the path and disappear past a farmhouse. When both of them hear your quickened footsteps, Ryuzu turns calmly, but Garfiel gets startled and glares at you as if you are about to stab him.
“Haah!? Ya followin’ us now, half-pint?”
“Young Garf, please don’t be rude”, Ryuzu says calmly, looking up at the punk. “I’m sure he just wants to bring up the topic again, but without the lovely lady Emilia having to hear it.”
“That’s right, Ryuzu. I want to know why you find it unreasonable. Listen, you know I passed my trial without any significant damage to my psyche, but Emilia got traumatized from her attempt, and due to not being able to remember the details, she can’t learn anything! So why would you be against me taking her place?”
Ryuzu looks down inside of her coat to consider your words, and the neck of her coat hides even her nose. She then holds your gaze again with an incongruously intelligent expression for a twelve year old looking girl.
“How powerful do you believe me to be, Young Su?”
“I dunno, but I’m sure you’re more powerful than you look, which is very little. Not to disparage you or anything. Garfiel did say that you have been around for a long time, and I suppose that magical abilities could be hidden easily. That staff you hold most of the time also looks wizardly, but real wizardly, not like our retarded village chief. Still, I’m not sure where you are getting at.”
“It’s a simple answer. I am powerful in Sanctuary, but our little village is contained within a much larger domain that belongs to someone far more powerful than myself.”
“Then that someone is so powerful he can easily crush you whenever he wants, correct?”
“Well, yes, but we are not fearing that kind of retribution at the moment, nor should we for the forseeable future. My point is, Young Su, that Emilia has been chosen to pass the trials because Roswaal needs her to prove herself. It will add clout to her ambition to sit on the throne of a larger domain that contains others of the size of Roswaal’s. So although I believe you are acting out of love and I was personally moved by it, we cannot let you take this chance from her.”
“And yer doin’ this behind that clown bastard’s back”, Garfiel says while pointing at you. “We let ya, them consequences will splash us. We got enough crap ta deal with! Too much of a mess.”
You want to say that Roswaal himself proposed that you passed the trials and credit Emilia, but what if these two blackmailers learn of the lord’s plot and they end up revealing it to third parties? The whole attempt to credit Emilia would turn against her. Or maybe any of these two are informants of some kind. You hide your face with your hands for a moment. You want nothing of this political crap.
“Whenever Sanctuary ceases to be a cage, Young Su,” Ryuzu says, “it will be reabsorbed entirely into our lord’s domain. We need to remain in the best of terms with lord Roswaal. It’s just in everybody’s best interests. Please, trust a bit more in your beloved’s strengths.”

Roleplaying through “Re:Zero” with the GPT-3 story generator (Part 51)

This entry begins covering the eleventh volume of the original “Re:Zero” novels.

In the previous entry we met the lovely Elsa Granhiert, eminent local hitwoman and all around charming lady.


As the rush of sensations floods your brain from the body that you didn’t have a moment ago, you take a deep breath, but the dust that gets into your lungs makes you break into a coughing fit. Even before you stop coughing, the texture of the floor under your forearms tells you that you were lying on the flat stones of the chamber of trials at the witches’ tomb. The blue glow that illuminates the room further confirms that notion. It means that the Witch of Envy has moved your return point again, and now you can’t go back to a moment in your life in which Emilia wasn’t trapped in Sanctuary.
As you swallow to force your dry mouth to produce more saliva, you sit up and confirm that the half-elf is indeed lying face down near the center of the antechamber. Whenever you decide to wake Emilia up, she will shriek in terror and she won’t come out of a delirious state until around an hour after you put her on the guest bed at Ryuzu’s home.
You recall having felt dazed the first time you lived through this, but you are further out of it because you just came back from dying horribly. You have returned to Sanctuary, but everybody at the mansion is going to die. Rem is going to get murdered. Even though trying to figure out how to help Emilia pass the trials by herself had been your previous concern, none of that matters now when you risk losing not only your beloved, but also more people you like, as well as Petra. What can you do, what can you do, what can you do?
First order of things, getting Emilia out of here. You crouch next to the half-elf, sit her up and hold her in your arms. Her facial muscles twitch, immersed as she is in some sort of witch-induced nightmare. You pat her cheeks with one hand while repeating her name. She finally wakes up, but her initially blank expression turns into a grimace, and Emilia shrieks so loud that it feels as if your eardrums are going to burst. You hold Emilia tighter, resting her face on your neck. The raised hairs in your arms slowly go down again. You knew that shriek was coming and yet you had failed to prepare yourself against it. You need to stop that Bowel Hunter woman, even though you are yourself.

You go through the motions, trying to interact with people the same way you half-remember from your first run through this series of events, until you and that Ryuzu elf tend to an incoherent Emilia, who is lying on Ryuzu’s guest bed. She ends up coming out of her delirium.
“Subaru…”, she says as tears run down her temples. “Where am I? What happened?”
You stroke her cheek while you hold her gaze calmly.
“You attempted to pass the trial, but it was too much for you. You fell into a sort of hallucinatory state and we had to carry you to the mayor’s place. You are now lying on her guest bed. It’s alright, Emilia.”
“I… I remember…” You see the pain in her eyes. “I remember why I tried to pass this trial…”
“Yeah, you are trapped in this dreary village for the moment. We’ll figure something out, don’t worry.” You turn to Ryuzu, who is so small that she barely needs to look down from her standing position at the lying Emilia. “Do you have some sort of pyjama that would fit her? It will be uncomfortable to sleep with that fancy dress of hers. And she’s been lying on that dirty floor as well.”
“Sure, Young Su”, Ryuzu answers. “None of my clothes would fit this big lady, but I’ll figure something out.”
After the elf leaves the room, Emilia is looking at you as if trying to measure how disappointed you are. Her lips are trembling.
“I’m sorry, I keep making things so difficult for everybody”, she says with a thin voice.
When she looks away, you take her hand and kiss it.
“It’s alright. It isn’t your fault, Emilia. You just focus on resting for tonight. I’ll have a chat with our friends, as well as with the couple of blackmailers, so we can try to understand what’s going on. Afterwards I’ll return to your side so we can sleep in the same room.”
She turns her face towards you. She looks eager and hopeful, which erases most of the sadness she was displaying before.
“Will you really?”
“Of course. I belong by your side, after all.”
Emilia nods at your reassuring eyes, and pokes her cheek against the palm of your hand, while you caress her gently.
“Thank you, Subaru.”
“You can thank me by getting well soon.”
After Ryuzu comes back with a woolly, crude-looking pyjama that she must have gotten from another villager, you both leave Emilia to change her clothes. You go to the living room, where you sit at the table on the same chair from your first run of this nightmare. Ryuzu goes through the motions of preparing snacks and drinks, but you don’t feel like doing much but wring your hands over the table and look down at it.
“You look troubled, Young Su”, the elf says with a soothing voice.
“You don’t know the half of it, Ryuzu.”
Your body feels as hungry as it did during your first time living through this night, as well as exhausted. You want to go to bed. You figure that you might as well eat the same cookies, and while you chew on them and try to enjoy their taste, you recall all those many, many iterations of you ransacking your dear Crusch’s wine cellar to steal some more extremely expensive wine bottles. Ah, Crusch, Ferris, Wilhelm, what are you guys doing in this sombre night? Your throat is closing up, and you are trying your best to blink as little as possible just in case your eyes start watering.
Ram is staring at you, studying your movements. You know that she intends for you to reveal that you passed the trial, but you want to tell her to leave you the fuck alone, allow you suffer in peace. While Otto, hoping to get as drunk as possible, laments the pains that Emilia has gone through, you look up to hold Ram’s spartan gaze.
“I know we gotta go meet Roswaal in a while”, you say without emotion. “I’m not doing any of that shit this time.”
Ram sighs.
“Barusu, I have already told him that you requested a meeting. Because he decided that it would happen after Emilia’s attempt, he has stayed up. Do you mean for me to return and tell him that you have changed your mind?”
Your nostrils widen. Ah, you hate it so much. The worst part for you of returning to the past was always having to struggle through making the people around you understand what you desperately need them to know, which you feel they should know already even though you understand that’s not how reality works. It’s such a bother. You need to be left alone.
“I don’t care what you tell the clown, Ram. Truly, I couldn’t give less of a shit. Emilia hasn’t passed the trial, and I know that Roswaal intends to make me a knight as a thank you for doing his fucking job. And I also know that you won’t have sex in a barn, so it’s all pointless.”
Garfiel, sitting to your right, chuckles.
“The hell is that about sex in a barn, half-pint? That a private joke with Ram? How did that come to be?”
“Nothing, Garfiel. Shut up.”
The punk frowns, although he finishes swallowing a fried potato before he snarls at you.
“I ain’t shuttin’ up, not in my damn place anyway. The frickin’ gall of it! If it’s about Ram and sex, I wanna know.”
You shoot him a glance.
“She wanted to have sex with me in a barn.”
Garfiel narrows one eye, then points at Ram and you with his index finger.
“Haah? Ram wanted to screw with you?”
“Yeah.”
“Wait, ya said she didn’t!”
Ram is grabbing her face with one hand as if she wishes she could tear it out and for the pain to rescue her from this conversation. She then takes a deep breath and glares at you intensely.
“Do not involve me in your delusions, Barusu, especially if they are of the sexual kind. There’s nothing going on with me and sex, I assure you.”
You snort. You narrow your eyes at the pink-haired servant as if she’s about to regret having stated that she isn’t getting any, but she looks as if not being involved with sex is a matter of dignity for her. You point at Ram accusingly.
“Oh yeah? Then what was with that proposal?”
You almost expect her to stand up forcefully and storm off, possibly after throwing a plate full of snacks at you. To your surprise, she hunches over and plays along.
“I thought you meant that we should just get it over with. I’m not like you, Barusu, I would never have sex outside of a bed, unless there was a very good reason for doing so. But having sex in a barn, with all the hay and the smell? It’s something only the most debased would do. Only those who are shameless freaks without any dignity or worth would do such a thing. I’m not like you.”
You take a deep breath and slump on your chair.
“You are right, I’m as debased as they come”, you say with a low, serious voice. “I could have someone kneading my intestines and still I would get so hard that I wouldn’t even have to touch myself to come. That’s who I am, and now every single one of you fuckers knows. That’s who you chose to associate yourselves with.”
Ryuzu coughs nervously.
“You are an idiot”, Ram says with a sigh and a shake of her head.
She grabs something squishy from the table and throws it at you. You catch it, and find yourself looking down at a slice of bread. You guess that she’s suggesting you stuff your mouth to keep yourself from saying more things you would regret, or that she simply doesn’t want to hear, so you do so. You try to calm yourself.
“Now now, we are all worried and confused about our current predicament”, Otto says, then shivers. “I’m so unsettled myself that I wish I could pass the trials for lady Emilia. I don’t see how anyone would force herself to try again after the way it made her scream…”
You swallow the bread. Your body forces you to let out a long yawn. And you have to look forward to sleeping in that uncomfortable chair. You’ll be lucky if you don’t get bedsores by the time you wake up.
“No, Emilia will keep trying to pass the trials, even though she won’t improve. She promised to those villagers, and she believes that she needs to succeed at this task to feel like she can face her future as the ruler of this kingdom. It doesn’t matter how much the trials traumatize her.”
Garfiel, whose eyes are unfocused, shakes his head.
“Shy princess should give up. Would be better for her. People’s minds are like the great br-“
“Great bridge of Ehurradan, I know. Too much weight and the whole thing collapses. That was too easy of an analogy, Garfiel.”
Garfiel snaps his head back, freaked out and with his mouth hanging open.
“What, you thought nobody else would know about that great bridge?”, you ask with a deadpan face, “There are other men of culture out there, you know.”
He turns his head and looks to a random spot on the wall, embarrassed. Then, seemingly having regained his confidence, he smirks at you and scratches his head.
“Crap, but didya know that the bridge was built by orders of warrior queen Tingrifa Essa, who wanted ta cross with an army to kill them migratory mejasoupes, that were burnin’ the whole damn place with their fiery breath?”
You want to roll your eyes. It seems you’ve found an even bigger idiot than yourself. And that’s a feat in itself.
“… No, Garfiel. I wasn’t aware of that much. You win this one.”
The punk beams at you, and puffs out his chest.
“Hah! I knew it! Most impressive thing ’round here!”
You take a deep breath and look down. You want to disappear into your chair, but Ram’s gaze is burning your face. She hasn’t given up on figuring out if you have passed the trial. You look up at her red eyes so you can get this over with.
“You keep trying to get my attention, Ram. Can’t stop thinking about me, can you.”
Ram snorts, then glares at you as if she hates that you insist on sparking emotions of any kind in her.
“My only concern relates to how you have avoided bringing up what happened at the witches’ tomb. You know what I’m referring to, don’t you?”
You squeeze your eyes closed as you hold your breath. You stand up and support yourself on the table with your hands.
“Yes, I went through the first trial, and I passed it. I never got any confirmation, but I felt sure that I had passed it as if I had been told. The trial showed my parents, whom I will never see again, which allowed me to deal with some unfinished business. No, Garfiel, my past wasn’t as traumatic as yours, and yes, Ryuzu, I’m aware that the devious, god-like witch behind these trials might not accept me passing the trials because she wouldn’t want to lift the barrier after a boring person breezed through different stages of his life. Any fucking questions?”
You slam your hands on the table and look out to everyone in the room. Otto is gaping at you with his eyes wide, Ram has her eyes narrowed, Garfiel is grimacing with his mouth open, and Ryuzu is blinking with confusion.
“Now, if you will excuse me,” you add with a tired, annoyed voice, “I’m going to take a shit and then straight to sleep. See you, fuckers.”

You open the door to Ryuzu’s guest room slowly. The light from the hallway illuminates Emilia’s face, as she seemingly sleeps, peeking out from under the covers. While you close the door behind you and return the darkness to the room, Emilia opens her eyes.
“That’s you, isn’t it, Subaru?”, she asks softly.
“Yeah, Emilia. It’s me.”
You shuffle towards the window, the only source of light, and moonlight at that, because the shutters are open at the other side of the glass pane. You rest your forehead on the cold glass.
“Have you finished for the day, then…?”, Emilia asks. “Will you spend the rest of the night here with me?”
“Yeah, it’s late anyway, and I’m tired. Do you mind, though, if I close the shutters? I want as much darkness as possible.”
“Of course not”, Emilia answers as if trembling with excitation.
You hear the sheets rustling as Emilia sits up. You open the window and reach out to close the shutters, blotting out the moonlight. Now you’re in total darkness. You can’t see your own hand in front of your face.
You hear the sheets rustle again as Emilia lays back down.
“Difficult to get used to, isn’t it? Living without light.”
You don’t say anything. You have turned around and must be facing the bed, even though you can’t see a thing. On the other side of the room waits Emilia, the same Emilia who offered you a fairy tale romance. She wanted to make you happy and show you that you deserved to be loved by someone who would never hurt you. But is this Emilia that other one, truly? You wouldn’t be able to reproduce the same conversation, not only because you don’t remember it exactly, but because what you end up revealing to the other person sometimes depends on sudden decisions, sometimes even pushed out by your subconscious. Some lifelong paths wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t blurted out a few words.
That other Emilia is gone, you abandoned her in a reality you no longer belong to. She had pushed herself to the brink to pass a trial she isn’t built to succeed at, and in her weakened, depressive state, she needed you by her side. But you had left on a caravan and died on your lord’s mansion. You hope with all your heart that the realities you disappear from don’t continue. Otherwise Emilia would receive the news that the person she came to love, the only one who would fight for her to the end, had left her forever, which means she would remain trapped in this village. What face did you make when you found out?, you think. What words escaped from your mouth?
A burning pain tightens your chest, and you feel the tears rushing to your eyes. Not only that version of Emilia is gone, but Rem dies as well. It’s so heavy on your heart that you can barely face it. If you don’t prevent it somehow, that terrifying contract killer will murder them all. For all you know they are already dead, and that woman is enjoying the luxuries of Roswaal’s place as she waits for you to wander into her nest.
You hide your face in your hands even though nobody will see you cry. You clench your teeth to avoid sobbing, but your lips tremble. Although you need to whimper and blubber, to let your body produce the noises it needs to push out of itself, you don’t want Emilia to address any of it.
Emilia must have been paying attention with her heightened hearing to every tiny noise you made.
“Subaru…? Are you okay?”
You close your eyes tight and dry your face as slowly and noiselessly as possible. You hope that your voice hides your gloom.
“Emilia, do you want me to sleep next to you?”
She lets out a noise of delight.
“Yes. Come here with me.”
You take off your shoes and socks. You walk slowly in the blackness towards the bed, with your arm stretched. As soon as you touch her flesh, Emilia pulls you by the hand to lie beside her under the covers. You do so, and she embraces and snuggles with your chest and stomach. Her smell fills your nostrils. The sudden warmth that envelops you makes you want to cry again, but you force yourself to close your throat. You cross your arms behind her back. Emilia’s body slackens from head to toe against you as if she had been tense every other second of her life, and she exhales deeply and warmly on your neck. Her eyelashes brush against your skin, making you tingle. In fact, everything is tingling, particularly towards your crotch.
You swallow the burning sensation in your throat.
“How does it feel to snuggle with the person you love?”, you murmur.
“It feels like I’ve always wanted to be with you, Subaru, even before I met you. Now that you’re here, I feel whole. I don’t ever want to let you go.”
Your insides are melting. You hug Emilia tighter.
“I’m glad I can make you happy, Emilia. You’ve made me happy too.”
Emilia stretches her legs, wriggling them against yours while your erection strains against your underwear. If Emilia hugs you closer, your dick will get squeezed against her crotch, possibly right between her folds, like nature intended.
She reaches her arms up and holds your head against hers, rubbing her cheek against yours. You close your eyes and focus on the sounds of her breathing, the feel of her lips touching your skin, and the warmth emanating from her body.
“I love you, I love you, I do”, she says softly.
You want to let go of every thought, every memory. You want nothing else but to be enveloped by this warmth for the rest of your life. Both of your hearts are beating so loud that when neither of you speak, those heartbeats along with your heavy breathing are the only things you hear.
Emilia whispers right in your ear.
“Let’s get married, let’s take care of each other, and let’s be happy, forever, together.”
She wraps her slender legs around your own. Her thighs tighten against yours and she pulls your pelvis forward so that you can feel the heat of her pussy through the fluffy fabric of her pyjama.
“I need you so bad, Subaru…”, she whispers.
Your heart is beating irregularly. Your palms are sweating profusely. Emilia has nestled the length of your erection along her pussy, and she begins to rub herself with it slowly while she hugs you tight.
You are terrified and excited out of your mind. You don’t want anything else but what she’s making you feel.
“I… I want you too… I want you too…”, you murmur.
Trembling and nervous, your fingers of one hand clutching the bedsheets, you start to push yourself against Emilia’s pussy while she rubs herself with your erection. That movement had started as a small, almost imperceptible motion, but now she’s masturbating. She’s smearing her hot saliva on your cheek as her wet lips slide. She moans softly.
She’s moving her hips more violently and in a more rapid way now, and that pace is what you have begun to follow. You’re stuck to her like a pair of magnetized dolls. The sweat falling from your face stains her brow. Your nose rubs against hers, and as your gasps for air find their way into her mouth, she kisses you so warmly and greedily as if she wants nothing more than to twist her tongue against yours and share the hot wetness of each others’ mouths forever.
Your ears are almost deafened by the sound of your hearts thumping. The bed is shaking. Your spine is tingling, and you know that if you both continue, you will end up coming. That’s good, you feel. You want for both of you to come together.
You take a deep breath, stealing Emilia’s air straight from her nostrils. You pull yourself away from her tongue, from her mouth, from her embrace, from the hotness of her pussy through her pants. You throw the covers off the both of you, then roll Emilia so she lies on her back under you.
“Fuck it…”, you murmur with a raspy voice. “Fuck everything.”
Emilia lets out a noise of dismay.
“S-Subaru, what’s wrong…? Don’t leave…!”
In pitch darkness, you slide your hands down Emilia’s chest towards her waist, then under the band of her pyjama pants. You slowly stroke her pubic hair. She gasps and her whole body arches slightly. You crawl down the bed, hook your fingers onto her pants and pull it down with one quick motion. The warmth and wet smell of her insides make you salivate. You lower your face and lick her pussy from bottom to top, savouring her taste, before you plant your lips at the top of her mound. You suck on her little button.
Emilia squeals, and her whole body convulses. She grabs your head and holds you in place as if she fears you will pull away. Her legs tremble, her waist and chest start heaving. The smell of her sex fills your nostrils, the taste of it fills your mouth. You tongue her button while your hands grope her thighs and sides. Your member throbs so hard it might rip through your underwear. You are losing your sense of time, and you wish you were stuck in a loop in which you do nothing else but eat out this delicious pussy forever.
Emilia no longer grabs your head, and instead she runs her fingers of one hand through your hair slowly and lovingly. Some time later you don’t feel her hand on your hair any longer. Her body twists, her hips gyrate in circular motions. She begins to pant as she reaches her peak. Her muscles convulse around your tongue.
After Emilia lets out a cry, you feel a warm liquid flow out. Her whole pussy tightens, then relaxes, then tightens again, three, four times. Her knees curl up near her chest. She releases a huge sigh, long and slow. You lap up the overflowing juices that stream out of her, and when no more come out, you rest your face on her groin. The warmth and smell emanating from her hot insides make you feel at home. Her taste makes you never want to move.
She runs her fingers through your hair.
“That was… intense”, she murmurs, almost breathless.
“Yeah”, you say while raising yourself up.
Some of her juice still remains in your mouth, and you swallow it. As you move on top of her, she reaches with her hands to pull you down to her, hugs you tightly wrapping her arms and legs around you, and she shoves her tongue into your mouth. Your dick is hard, almost painfully so, and it strains against your underwear as you rub it along her slit.
Emilia pulls down your pants and underwear laboriously with her heels, not wishing to loosen her embrace, and you help her with the arm you aren’t supporting yourself on. As soon as you rest against Emilia again, the length of your dick gets drenched with the hot wetness of her hole. Emilia flinches a bit, then lets out a pleasured noise against your ear.
“It’s so warm. Make me yours, Subaru”, she murmurs.
“Of course. Anything you want, my princess”, you say, truly meaning it.
You push the head against her slick opening. She winces as she feels it parting her lips, then she grunts as you slowly push yourself inside of her. Once you are past the crown, you stop to let her stretch around you. She shudders as she breathes through her nostrils. Slowly, you pull out a bit and then push back in, doing it again and again until your hips are soon rocking against her.
She licks your earlobe as her nails dig into your back.
“I’m yours and you are mine”, she whispers. “Nothing will change that.”
“Nothing.”
You thrust into her harder, and she lets out a gasp as you hit her deepest places. Soon, you’re pounding into her as she shakes and spasms under you. She moans and grunts, but soon she goes silent, only to end up letting out a hum of contentment. She strokes your back and neck, digging her fingernails in.
You feel like your heart is going to explode as the pleasure hits a peak.
“I’m… I’m…”
“Come inside. I want all of you”, she pants.
You release yourself into her as she clenches her legs and arms around you, keeping herself from bucking forward. Once you finish, you are just barely able to keep yourself from collapsing on her. You pull out and roll over without realizing that you should have rolled in the opposite direction, because you fall face up onto the floor.
You lie there for a moment, trying to get your strength back. You feel Emilia’s warm hand on your chest.
“Are you okay…?”, she asks softly, but amused.
Your heart beats in your neck. You breathe deeply through your mouth as you stare straight into the pitch darkness.


Note from December of 2020:

At around part eighteen of this strange, AI-fueled retelling, I was on team Rem for life, and I didn’t think back then that the protagonist would give Emilia the time of the day. However, this is how things turned out to be by themselves. Honestly, with his girlfriend in a coma possibly forever, and someone like Emilia aching to have you for herself, who would have resisted? I wouldn’t. Then again, both the protagonist and myself are scumbags. Also, I mostly listened to NIN’s “Mr. Self Destruct” as I wrote that last scene.

Roleplaying through “Re:Zero” with the GPT-3 story generator (Part 50)

This entry finishes the tenth volume of the original “Re:Zero” novels.

In the previous entry we learned that Emilia is horny and wants romance with the least appropriate man in the world, that she can’t remember anything about her attempts at passing the trial, that Garfiel loves wasting people’s time, that blackmailers can be reasonable, and that Frederica should eat a dick.

This is one of the shortest entries in a long while, but also one of the thiccest. And we reached part fifty. I’ve done fifty entries of this shit. I must be bored out of my mind.


Your caravan goes through the gate at Roswaal’s mansion grounds shortly before sunset. The slanting rays of the setting sun are tinting the mansion in bronze, as well as elongating the shadows of the many statues and streetlights that line the path to the front doors. The carriages start parking around fifty meters away from the entrance, because you want to enter the mansion as soon as possible. You had internalized that you were trapped in Sanctuary along with Emilia, but of course you could come and go as you pleased as long as Garfiel wouldn’t grab you and hurl you back into their dingy village.
“Otto, please deal with making sure that every villager gets his belongings, and figure out if they have some urgent need that they would like to fill, so I can ask Frederica. We don’t want for them to return to their homes only to immediately start riling up those who stayed behind.”
“Understood, Mr. Natsuki. It’s good to be back, isn’t it? Too bad we haven’t gotten lady Emilia out of that village yet…”
“Well, we’ll get her out eventually.” You look around the vast yard, but you don’t see any sign of the servants. Although you want to see behind the windows, the rays of the setting sun have turned them all into mirrors. “It’s strange that Frederica hasn’t come out to greet us. She should have noticed a caravan entering the mansion’s grounds.”
Otto grabs one of the travel sacks from the back of his carriage.
“Maybe she’s busy dealing with some problem?”
“I wonder if she’s worried about us… After all, she must know that we will confront her regarding the magic crystal she gave us. I wonder what she will say when she realizes I would have gotten ripped apart at the witches’ tomb if the traps had worked on me.” You frown. “In any case, I’ll return with her in a while.”
You walk towards the front doors. You open them carefully, given they are built for much stronger people to handle. After you enter the large foyer and close the door behind you, you are first surprised by the lack of noise. You would have thought that either of the servants would have been moving around in this floor, but what shocks you the most is that every single door you can see is open. It’s as if someone opened one enough to check whether there was something inside that room, then left that door open and moved to the next one. Your body knows how wrong this is. Someone other than the rightful inhabitants of this mansion has been here, and if any of the servants had seen this unsettling chaos of opened doors, they would have corrected it.
You move further into the foyer.
“Frederica!? Are you there, lioness!? Petra, even! Do any of you hear me!?”
No one answers. The quietness feels creepy. Worse, it brings back memories from back when you didn’t know you would return to the past if you died for any reason. You recall entering this same foyer hoping to find your people, those who had welcomed you into their lives, only to find Ram’s beheaded corpse. You had frozen to death shortly after.
Rem. She’s as defenseless as any living being could be. Any stranger who wandered in here could murder your beloved demon servant just by cupping her nose and mouth with his or her hand. Your chest feels hollow as you run towards the room that Emilia chose for Rem. You no longer shout for the servants, because it’s clear they won’t come, if they remain in the mansion at all.
When you can already see the door to Rem’s room further into your current hallway, you see that there’s a woman standing on the carpet, and looking at you. In less than a second your body registers that she’s one of the sexiest women you have ever seen. She must be in her late twenties or early thirties. She has long, soot-colored hair that frames a mature, gorgeous face. She’s wearing a cape with a feathery hood, although she isn’t covering her head with it, and the cape barely conceals her black dress, which has a cleavage that exhibits her smooth skin down past her navel to slightly above where her pubic hair should be. The outer half of her big, firm breasts somehow remains hidden even though it would take the fabric slipping a few centimeters to reveal her nipples. Under the tail of her dress, her shapely legs are covered in blood-colored tights.
Everything about this woman screams sex and danger. You haven’t managed to move a muscle when she steps forward and wields a smile that while pretty in her face, makes you feel like a rat watching helplessly how a bird of prey descends towards it with the claws drawn.
“Hello, boy. You are lovelier than I had imagined.”
The woman’s voice sounded pleased and relaxed as if she had an orgasm mere minutes ago.
Your throat feels clogged with dryness, and your spine has gone cold.
“Holy shit. Who are you? What are you doing in our mansion?”
She lets out a chuckle that in different circumstances would have seemed seductive.
“Why, I’m not doing anything here, darling, except for my job.”
Her hips sway from left to right and back as she comes a bit closer. Your throat gets tighter.
“What job would that be?”, you ask with a thin voice.
The woman stops and holds her hands in front of her waist. She leans forward a bit, which displays more of her big, impossibly firm breasts that you are trying very hard not to stare at.
“If I tell you how they call me, you will have all you need”, she says with a low, sensual voice. “I’m known as the Bowel Hunter.”
The inside of your mouth has turned to papery mush.
“Never heard of you, and I don’t know who is this ‘they’ you refer to”, you say with a parched voice. “Kind of an unflattering nickname, though. I would have given you one related to those delicious-looking breasts of yours, but to be fair I can hardly think of anything else at the moment.”
She giggles, and you can smell a light scent of flowers coming from her. Her eyes shine playfully with mischief.
“I’m honored you think my twins are delicious, but if that doesn’t convince you who I am, how about I tell you my modus operandi?”
You swallow, then force yourself to look up at her purple eyes.
“Sorry, what did you say? Man, how do you keep those glorious mounds of flesh from popping out of your risky dress? Do you glue them to the fabric with some sort of fantasy world adhesive tape? Still, it must be some industrial grade stuff. And they are so firm, like carved in marble…”
The woman narrows her eyes and widens her smile as if humoring you. Her white teeth are on full display.
“You’ll just have to find out my strengths for yourself. How unfortunate for you, darling.”
She parts her lips, although a thread of saliva keeps them connected, and her eyes glisten as she stares at your clothed abdomen. You can feel the warmth building up in her body and emanating like an aura. She desires something of you, so intensely that it burns.
With a swift movement she crosses and uncrosses her arms in front of her waist, and now she’s holding two exotic looking gutting knives that glint in the setting sun.
You take a couple of steps back.
“Ah… You aren’t a nice one.”
“On the contrary, my lovely boy. Let’s see how beautiful you are.”
She lunges forward while wielding the knives. She moves so fast that you can only sense a blur as you try to jump out of her way, but you feel a burning slash across your abdomen. You stagger for a moment, and when you trembling legs decide to support your weight properly, you realize that the woman is standing calmly a few meters away from you, holding the knives at the sides of her legs. One of the blades is dripping blood.
Although you had intended to press the wound in your abdomen with your hands in order to stem the bleeding, it’s not so much a wound as wide open gash from one side of your torso to the other. The pink-colored, long, sausage-like flesh bulging out the gash are your intestines. More than that, you feel like you are about to evacuate all of your internal organs through that hole.
As if your legs couldn’t handle the shock of you getting disemboweled, they buckle and you fall on your back. The pain shooting through your body is new, and whitens your vision. Beads of sweat are rolling down your face. Your arms have moved instinctively to keep your intestines from spilling out further, but your abdomen is ripped open like a pocket. No way you can survive this. Wilhelm’s wound when Petelgeuse gutted him wasn’t so huge, and that old man is far tougher than you. Ferris isn’t here to save you.
As you lie there, struggling for breath with blood trickling down your mouth and pooling around you, Elsa calmly walks up to your side. Those big, firm mounds of flesh frame her beautiful, flushed face as she smiles down at you. A fire burns in her purple eyes while she licks her lips slowly with her red tongue.
“I knew as soon as I met you that your guts would have a lovely color. My beautiful boy…”
You wheeze and cough up blood, splattering it on your face. She bends over, her long, soot-colored hair falling forward onto your face, and offers you an affectionate smile.
“How does it feel to have your insides leaving your body like that? Tell me in your words, darling”, she says with a low, deeper voice.
You struggle to focus on the question. The initial pain has subsided somewhat, and all there is left is a lingering ache. Even that begins to fade as your life force dwindles away.
“Well… It’s a new type of pain, but it could be much worse. It isn’t mind-shattering, at least.”
The woman’s eyes narrow for a moment, taken aback by your answer, even though it doesn’t alter her smile.
“Is that so?”
She grabs your arms by your wrists and puts them at the side of your body. They are trembling and already weakened. And it’s not like defending yourself at this point would change anything. It probably wouldn’t have changed anything even before this woman gutted you. She clearly knows what she’s doing.
The woman tilts her head and parts her lips as she touches first and then kneads your mass of intestines. Under her loving attention, those nerves in your flesh send you confusing information that registers as noisy pain. You feel the shit the intestines contain getting squeezed through the tract.
The woman then shoves her hands deeper into the gash, widening it, which causes you to groan in pain and tears to jump from your eyes. The woman takes out of your body as much as she can of your intestinal tract, and possibly other nearby organs as well. Despite the blinding pain that trembles through your bones, a weird relief surprises you, as if holding your organs inside had been an effort all along.
Your intestines make soggy sounds while the woman plays gently with them. Her eyes are glossy and her lips wet, as if she will start drooling at any moment. She notices you staring at her, and she holds your gaze with affection.
“I’ll stay with you, boy, as you die. Slowly, slowly, slowly… I will watch the light go out in your eyes.”
Her alluring smell, that warm gaze, the loving smile, the way she’s stroking and kneading your organs, have made you uncomfortably hard. You are getting so weak, your vision is blurrying, you are getting colder. Yeah, there’s no surviving this one. You will pay a visit to that traitorous, looped witch soon.
“Ah… Tell me, so called Bowel Hunter,” you say with a trembling, thin voice, “what is your name?”
The woman is taken aback by your question, but then she smiles. Her saliva drips down onto your innards.
“You want to know… my name?”
“Yeah.”
“For your sake, you may call me whatever you wish.”
“But I want to know how to properly address such a lovely woman. I’m Natsuki Subaru.”
The woman’s smile widens.
“Well then, my lovely Natsuki, I am Elsa Granhiert. I’m very glad to meet you.”
“And I’m glad to meet you, too”, you say, making an effort to keep your voice from shaking. “Nobody had played with my insides like that before. Why are you here, Bowel Hunter? Just in the neighborhood?”
She laughs softly, closing her eyes, and then she rewards you with a glowing smile. Sweat is beading on her flushed face.
“I came for you, Natsuki.”
“You’re here for me?”
The woman touches her lips with her bloodied index finger in a coy gesture, leaving a print.
“Shh… It’s a secret.”
As if she couldn’t keep away from your guts, the hand she had pulled from them goes back to playing with your innards. She licks the blood on her lips in a way that makes your erection pulsate.
You swallow to be able to push your voice out.
“C’mon, Elsa. Surely you can reveal this secret to me, right?”
She chuckles.
“You truly didn’t know me at all. I’m the best contract killer in the kingdom, they say. In the whole world, I’d argue.”
Frederica, Petra, and most importantly Rem are dead. That sudden realization makes your heart, which was already having trouble pumping correctly, stop for a moment. You swallow some of the blood that is reaching your mouth from somewhere else in your body.
“Who hired you then?”
“Nu-huh”, she answers playfully.
“C’mon, Elsa. You know I’m going to die here. No way I could survive the best contract killer in the world, when she’s already playing with my intestines no less. Tell me, who paid so we could have such a lovely encounter?”
“Your insides have such a lovely color, boy, that I want to give you anything you wish for during these last precious moments you will spend with me. But you don’t get to where I am by breaking the rules. I never reveal information about the client, it’s a naughty thing to do. I wouldn’t tell even such a lovely boy.”
You try to reply but only a gargling sound comes out of your throat. Elsa looks at you as if wishing to please you.
“I will share, though, that the targets were a part beast servant, a very young trainee, and a shut-in spirit, as well as yourself, whenever you arrived. However, they did specify to kill everybody at the mansion, so I gutted a pretty, unknown girl as she slept. She never opened her eyes, the poor thing. She must have been seriously ill.”
You cough blood. Your vision already looks as if you are seeing the world through a thin layer of water. The waves of pain prevent you from focusing on facts that otherwise would have you crying. But you are about to die, and none of this matters.
Elsa’s hard nipples are bulging out of her fancy, black dress, as if she had rubbed them with ice cubes. Despite the whole you getting murdered thing, it does make you proud that fondling your intestines is satisfying her freaky fetish. You know just how she must be feeling.
You aren’t sure if you passed out for a brief moment, but you find yourself holding Elsa’s gaze as she looks down at you with some disappointment.
“You are so well behaved that you don’t scream nor plead for your life. Please, show some fear. It feels so much better when they struggle to survive even with their last ounce of strength.”
You spit blood in her face. She wipes it with her forearm and smiles with satisfaction.
“A half-assed attempt, but it feels better. Thank you.”
Your heart is pounding. You’ll end up having an orgasm if this keeps going. You feel the need to vomit, but your body has no such luck.
“Sorry, Elsa. It’s just that death hasn’t frightened me for a long time, and it’s going to go dark for me no doubt. Nobody will heal that mess in my abdomen.”
She stops playing with you for a moment as she observes you with the closest thing you’ve seen to confusion in her beautiful face.
“How did you get so calm with the way I’m enjoying your innards? You are an intriguing boy.”
You can’t help but laugh, but it makes her frown slightly and pout.
“Then I’ll make you feel a fear engraved in the bones of all of you. Please, lose your mind for me and scream.”
She attempts to pulls down your pants and underwear enough, and after she struggles for a bit longer than she had intended, your rock-hard penis pops out. Elsa gives a pleased sigh, as if you had complimented her.
“Ah, you are enjoying my touch so much. What a lovely boy… I will keep you for myself.”
She grabs one of her gutting knives from the ground. Her free hand holds the head of your dick with the index finger and thumb, which makes your back tremble warmly and almost causes you to cum, and it only takes a flick of the wrist of her other hand to reap your penis near the base. She holds it on her hand to show it to you. It begins to shrivel while leaking blood all over her palm, then dripping from her hand in tiny, viscuous courtains.
You would have expected it to not only hurt enormously, but also make your mind shatter, as a primal fear got triggered. Maybe you’ve gone too weak already, or that pain didn’t register in the tide that is already coursing through your body. In comparison with how you felt back when a huge ground dragon turned your genitals into mush, you now don’t have to handle the horror of fighting everyone in your life so you can die and wake up in Satella’s bath of vaginal juices again. It’s a huge whatever.
Elsa smiles briefly before bending down and giving the tip of your cut off dick a kiss. She puts it in some pocket of her cloak, but when the woman turns to focus on your expression, she gets stunned.
“You don’t even care…”
She sounded disappointed and annoyed as if she were about to cum to the best part of a porn video, only for that scene to end before she could stop herself. She continues to look at you with a questionable gaze, waiting for some sort of tears or anger, but she doesn’t get either.
“I can put on a sad face if you want”, you say with a threadbare voice, “Sorry, I lost my dick once before, and in worse circumstances. The shock wears out surprisingly quick.”
“You have lost it before…? You are the oddest boy in the world.”
That annoys you. You want to shout, but you are barely holding onto life.
“I’m odd? Does that fetish of yours run in your family or something? Couldn’t you get off to incest porn like a normal person?”
Elsa is bewildered into silence, with her hands shoved into the mass of your intestines.
You shake your head slightly. Your body doesn’t want to obey you much. The pain rises and falls as your breath shortens.
“I can’t believe you just went straight for my guts. No innuendo, no foreplay… Not even a bit of tongue play.”
Elsa smiles warmly, then nods.
“Ah, you are right. That would be lovely, and you have earned it.”
Elsa pulls out her hands from your guts. She crouches next to your shoulder, cups the back of your head with one hand and lifts it enough so she can cover your open mouth with hers. Her tongue licks yours, and her lips suck on your flesh, possessing you like you would never imagine you could feel. You moan in her mouth, and she chuckles softly. Your blood rushes to your crotch and spurts out of the hole where the rest of your dick ought to be. You will die from blood loss that much quicker.
Even though your consciousness comes and goes, you feel her holding your tongue with her teeth around the middle part. She then bites harder and harder and harder, gnawing at it, and suddenly retracting her head, she rips off the lower half of your tongue.
Elsa straightens her back. She’s shivering in a pleasured daze while blood runs down from her dyed mouth. She chews a bit and swallows.
You want to ask what kind of benefit she got from eating your tongue, but then again you don’t want to retain the memory of how it feels to say something when most of your tongue is gone. You are already choking on the blood pooled in your mouth. Blackness is encroaching your vision.
You concentrate what remains of your strength on lifting your arm closest to Elsa towards her breasts. You slide your trembling hand under the dress and cup that glorious mound of flesh. You feel the hard nipple between your index and middle finger. You rub it with your palm, you squeeze it. Elsa shivers. She caresses your trembling arm with her own hand. Shortly after she lifts her face up and moans as her body convulses.
A breast fit for a god. Priscilla Barielle, you have been outranked.

As the black bath of vaginal juices seeps into your very soul, the Witch of Envy embraces you with her elongated arms. Her hazy, purple eyes regard you as warmly as an automaton’s.
“I love you I love you I love yo-“
“It’s been a while, Satella. How are things going with you?”
“I love you I love you I love you I lov-“
“Ah, that’s wonderful. Well, let me tell you. I just met a lovely woman, very passionate. Kind of love at first sight.”
“I love you I lov-“
“She was so into me, she even bit off my tongue. But in the end it was worth it, because she got me hot enough that I just creamed all over her tits.”
“I love you I love you I lov-“
“Just kidding. I didn’t even have a dick at that moment.”
“I love you I love you I love you I love y-“
“You know, I gave Emilia shit for being retarded enough to allow that teenage thief to steal her medallion, but I’m one to talk, right? I keep losing my most important body part. How can I look at anyone in the face if I’m not even capable of keeping my dick intact?”
“I love you I love you I love you I love you I lov-“
“Sorry to disappoint you by getting sexually involved, somehow, with virtually every other woman I come across. That’s why I wanted to keep that Petra out of the mansion! Nobody listens to me.”
“I love you I love you I lov-“
“Not to disparage you or anything, Tella. Do you prefer that diminutive? I could also just keep saying your full name like a normal person. I guess it’s the old sloth in me.”
“I love you I lo-“
“It’s a reference to that Petelgeuse, the ancient ghost you swallowed. Remember that whole thing we did…?”
“I love you I love you I lov-“
“Anyway, it was good to talk again, you fucking traitor.”


Note from December of 2020:

Finally I can play with the lovely Elsa Granhiert. Anyone who has read the original novels or watched the anime adaptation knows that she appears as early as the first volume, or the first episode or the second. But I completely botched that arc in this strange, AI-fueled retelling that I’m doing. Whatever. Most people who went through the original story constantly wondered what the fuck happened with Elsa to have disappeared from the narrative. Now she’s back where she belongs.

Roleplaying through “Re:Zero” with the GPT-3 story generator (Part 49)

This entry covers part of the tenth volume of the original “Re:Zero” novels.

In the previous entry we discovered that Otto might be impotent, that Roswaal is a lazy son of a bitch, and that Ram doesn’t want to have sex in a barn.


Someone is touching your thigh. You wake up from your sleep, and although you remain dazed for a few seconds, you see that a delicate hand is resting on your thigh, stroking it slightly. The hand comes from Emilia, who is lying on the guest bed at Ryuzu’s place. Her head is resting on the pillow, and her purple eyes are regarding you so warmly as if there was no better gift than to see you as soon as a new day started. Even right after waking up, with her silver hair messy, Emilia’s face could appear on billboards in your previous world and probably cause some traffic accidents. Still, her traumatic experience with the trial makes her look slightly tired, and now she has the closest thing to eye bags you have ever seen in her delicate face.
Being looked at with such affection makes a warm shiver run through your spine. You swallow. Not only that, but Emilia’s hand is resting quite close to your morning wood, and maybe even contributed to it before you regained consciousness. You shift your weight on the chair to try to disguise the bulge, but Emilia’s glance down lets you know that she’s well aware.
“Ah… Such a glowing smile suggests that at least you’ve had a good night’s sleep”, you say with a voice that you hope doesn’t reveal the tingles you are feeling.
“It was alright. Even if I hadn’t, though, just waking up next to you would have made me smile this way.”
She sounds calm, without a hint of yesterday’s mental breakdown. Given that it was induced by a witch’s spell, or enchantment, or whatever kind of magic the trials represent, maybe you shouldn’t correlate her current mood with those shrieks, which you are quite sure ended up showing up in your dreams. In addition, both her touch and her smile and her sweet words are increasing the tingles, as well as warming your chest. You have a girlfriend, and she’s in a coma.
“You are here with me, Subaru…”, she says as if it wasn’t obvious.
“Of course I’m here, Emilia. You think that I would leave your side after the trouble you went through last night?”
Her smile fades a bit. She must not want to remember any of it, but it’s not as if you can’t bring it up.
“Sleeping in that chair must have been uncomfortable, hasn’t it been?”, she asks.
Emilia doesn’t seem to have any intention of drawing back the hand that she’s resting on your thigh, and it even moves slowly, almost imperceptibly. The crotch of your pants is getting tighter.
“Well… Not particularly, I get backaches when I sleep too long in the same position anyway. And I can just sleep anywhere, anytime. I mean… It’s alright. Sleeping while sitting up doesn’t even make the list of uncomfortable situations I’ve gone through.”
Her smile turns into a playful pout.
“Still, it’s unnecessary. I would prefer you to sleep next to me, keep me warm. You will next time, right…?”
Your heart beats louder and louder, and you feel as if you are about to break in cold sweat.
“It sounds to me that you have woken up quite warm this morning.”
She chuckles.
“It’s true… But I would still have preferred to wake up snuggled in your arms, keeping me so warm and safe…”
You close your eyes. You want to go to the bathroom and take care of yourself, but you can’t even move without revealing that Emilia is making you melt.
“Ah… Emilia, I’m glad you feel good, but you know I-“
“It must be so nice, sleeping next to someone you love. You have done it before, for sure. It must take your mind off things.”
“Well, yeah. Of course it does.” You clear your throat softly. “I do have someone for that, actually, as you know.”
Emilia looks away, then retracts her hand that was touching your thigh and hides it under the covers. You shift your weight on the chair.
“You are so lucky to be able to know the warmth of love,” Emilia says, lowering her voice, “and to have experienced your beloved sleeping next to you. You are a very lucky person.”
You shake your head. You can’t look her in the eyes right now.
“I wouldn’t call myself lucky, no. Not at all at the moment, with Rem in a coma. Because there’s that whole thing, you know, of my girlfriend back at the mansion having gone to sleep forever.”
She turns her head on the pillow so her lips are touching the fabric, and she looks down as well.
“I know. And all I want is to forget everything bad in the world and be in your arms and kiss you and discover everything else, Subaru. It’s not just that I want it, I need it. I feel it so close, and not having it hurts. I have never felt this way.”
The pain in your chest starts beating louder than your heart, so you just bring your voice down to whisper at it.
“I wish I could make it stop hurting, Emilia.”
“Do you think we can run away together? Somewhere far away from here?”, she asks, her eyes looking straight into yours now, not hiding anything. “Just get on a carriage, breeze through the barrier as if it wasn’t there, and then find some beautiful place in which we could just be together, be passionate with each other… I just dreamt about something like that. I wish the you that waited for me in this room would treat me like the one in that dream.”
You look at your knees and sigh. When you face Emilia again you see the tear running down her cheek and then moistening the pillow.
This lovely girl believes, and maybe she has it right, that with merely your love she could get rid of her pain. It’s tearing you in two. You doubt you could get to satisfy her like she needs, and yet you know it would make her feel better.
The shame as well as the self-hatred are burning already. Remember your sleeping girl, think of how you would break her heart if you did everything your body demands you to.
“Emilia…”, you begin, but your voice comes out so raspy that you clear your throat. “You think too highly of romance. It’s great, don’t get me wrong, but many, if not most of the practical aspects of loving someone won’t show up in your dreams.”
Emilia breathes out roughly. She wipes her tears with a hand, then pulls up the covers, cuddling with her pillow.
“Like what..?”, she says with a soft, teary voice that pierces your heart.
“Well, say there’s someone you really love. What if that person loves someone else? What if you’re not sure if you really love them back, so you push them away? What if there’s someone else who also loves you and your first love is indecisive?”
“What… what if…”, she mutters while hiding her face.
“Imagine you are living together and the both of you eat a big supper. Then as you are having pleasant dreams, you are woken up by a huge fart. Your man is lying there next to you, under the same covers, unconscious but ripping the nastiest farts you can imagine. They horrify you as if you are getting attacked by a chemical weapon. If you covered your head with the sheet, you would vomit and then pass out. The person you love doesn’t even know, because he’s lying there unconscious. How do you deal with it the next morning? Do you tell him? Are you going to smile sweetly to him and inform him that he almost suffocated you with his sulphurous pestilence?”
She lets out a muffled noise, a mix of surprise and disgust.
“That’s not fair. You’re trying to confuse me.”
“Life isn’t fair. I’m just saying, that if you truly love someone, then you need to accept them for who they are, even if that means living with the consequences of their bodily functions.”
Emilia shakes her head against the pillow. You continue talking, softly.
“Or imagine this: you love someone only to realize that you don’t like the books he likes, the music, or the movies. He likes sports, you hate them.”
“Movies…?”
“Not that they were producing enough decent stuff by the time I left. But yeah, what if a few months in you want children, and he doesn’t ever want to become someone’s father? What if you hate that he doesn’t earn enough at his job? What if you hate his friends, or he hates yours?”
She turns her head enough that you can see her profile. Her eyes have reddened.
“I would have to talk to him about these things first…”
“Yes, you would. But what if you can’t reach an agreement on these issues? What if it turns in to yelling and screaming, tears and frustration? Some problems aren’t solvable, or at least not solvable at that moment.”
She bites her lower lip as her face scrunches up.
You heart hurts. It feels heavier, and you can’t put words as to all the facets of why.
“Imagine you live with your beloved for years only to realize that they have changed so much that you don’t like each other anymore. That being together is just a source of annoyances and arguments, and the best you can hope for is a boring afternoon spent at home, exhausted after work. Or you have children only to find out that you wish you hadn’t, and now you exhaust most of your waking life taking care of the little shits, or worrying about them. Or one day you find texts in his cellphone, conversations he had with some coworker or some dumb broad from the internet. Then everything breaks, and you come out of it as if you have lost years and years of your life, and you have nothing to show for it but regret, bitterness, and new pains that will never go away, not entirely.”
Emilia, still resting on the pillow, stares at you as if she’s trying to read your thoughts. She takes a deep breath.
“What if you loved each other so intensely that even if bad things happened to you both, or risked growing apart, you kept fighting for what you know is worth more than anything else in the world, and you both grow old together, and in the end you can say truthfully that you had a happy life, that you wouldn’t change a thing?”
You swallow.
“Then maybe those people live in a fairy tale.”
Emilia holds your gaze intensely.
“I would love to get married and have children one day. If you don’t have either, you are free to do whatever you want. Travel, or stay at home and knit all day. With your freedom comes a price: being alone. Maybe when you become too old, you’ll long for those days when your family visited, or the quiet evenings with your husband or raising your kids.”
“Don’t get me wrong, Emilia, I want a fairy tale. It’s just that it won’t happen. I just want to enjoy the good parts while they last, and hope that the bad parts don’t kill me inside.”
“Once you spend enough time with someone, you’re supposed to grow old and die with that person. Not everyone gets that chance. You should cherish it.”
You lower your head and smile while staring at your knees.
“You will make someone so happy.”
Emilia sighs as lift your gaze towards her. She is resting her head on her hand, elbow on the pillow.
“Let me make you happy then”, she says with a thin voice. “You told me that you can only love someone who will make you suffer. I believe you deserve to be loved by someone who would never hurt you. That’s what I will do, if you allow me.”
“Hah…”
Emilia reaches for your hand, and you grab hers and squeeze it.
“I know, Subaru”, she says. “Rem is there, and will be forever. And yet I want us to be together. It’s just how it is. I can hardly care about anything else.”
You rub your eyes slowly with your free hand. You feel as if filled with lead.
“We are both avoiding reality. None of this matters as long as we can’t leave this place. You haven’t spoken at all about the nightmarish time you had during your first attempt, and you clearly don’t want to bring it up.”
“I…” She swallows, and her eyes dart away from yours quickly. “I don’t want to talk about it, that’s all.”
You keep looking at her with what you hope is a reassuring expression, while you stroke her hand with your thumb.
“I heard a lot of what you shouted. I could almost imagine the people you were pleading to. Something horrible must have happened to you, probably when you were a child, and maybe you will never recover entirely from it. I know some of my own wounds will never get fully cured. And yet, Emilia, I hope you know that whatever you would want to say about any aspect of it, I would love to listen, I would love to help you in any way I can.”
You’re surprised you managed to say something so honest and heartfelt. It seems your time with everyone else has been rubbing off on you, even if you still do have a long way to go.
She sniffs, but smiles. Her face relaxes a bit, even as she squeezes your hand more tightly.
“Thank you, I… The thing is, I can’t remember anything. I just know there’s a hole there, and about the trials, it’s like every detail was wiped out except for what it made me feel. Horror. To an extent that the perspective of attempting it again feels like masochism, and yet I must…”
Your head snaps back without you thinking about it.
“Is that what happens when you fail the trial? No, Garfiel seemed to remember… You mean you don’t even have memories of your childhood?”
She slowly shakes her head.
“I can’t remember anything before I woke up in the frozen woods as a child. Although my memories of that time suggest that I was born then, despite being a grown child already, I feel there’s a span of memories missing, or blocked out…”
You hide half of your face with your free hand.
“You seriously need a psychiatrist, but the profession doesn’t seem to have been invented in this place. What a mess.”
She smiles cautiously.
“I don’t think you’re joking… But I do feel like I should laugh.”
“Well, I’m glad you see humor in the situation. But these trials… What are you going to do, Emilia?”
“I’m going to try again. I don’t know why, but I feel like I have to. No, I must. That’s what I ought to do. I have the chance to become the ruler of this kingdom, don’t I? I can’t be weak.”
“No, you can’t be weak, but you don’t need to put yourself through that torture just for the sake of being strong.”
Your reassuring words fall on deaf ears, as Emilia’s eyes stare into the distance.
“I have to do this. Thanks for your concern, but I must see this through to the end.”

A couple of hours later you find Garfiel sitting on a wooden fence, kicking his feet and throwing bread into a pond, for the weird fishes and fish-like creatures to eat. You are stunned for a moment, because you would have expected this guy to spend his free time punching trees or growling at nothing, and before you realize it he’s eyeing you as if you are about to push him into the water.
“The hell ya come to freak me out with now, evil eyes?”, Garfiel asks.
You sigh.
“None of that going on at the moment. I want to ask you a serious question.”
He narrows his eyes suspiciously.
“Serious, huh? That sounds worse comin’ from ya. Yer bad enough playin’ around.”
“It’s about Emilia, damn it, and the shit she’s gotten herself into regarding the trials. Can we speak about that seriously?”
“Ugh… If ya insist. So, what’s up?”
“I was trying to figure out what happened to her during her attempt, what scared her so bad… Garfiel, I realize that the trial made you see some bad stuff from your past, and I’m not going to ask about the contents, but can you remember the stuff you saw in there?”
Garfiel mulls this question over for a while, as he keeps on staring at the pond.
“As I could forget any of it, half-pint. That’s them trials’ deal, ain’t it. They push it inta yer head so you won’t ever get it out. I wish I hadn’t seen that crap.”
“Garfiel, Emilia told me she doesn’t remember any of it. And she was serious, too. The whole thing is blank. She just remembers the pain and the horror that the experience made her feel, but none of the details.”
He blinks a few times, then looks away to think about it. You figure that this punk needs to squeeze his brain to think about anything, so you give him his time.
“An’ that’s good for her. Trust me, ya don’t wanta remember the stuff from yer past. It only brings ya down an’ gets ya inta trouble.”
“I really want to help her with this. She’s suffering, Garfiel. She’s determined to keep trying, but she can’t learn anything from what she can’t remember!”
“That ain’t good.”
“It isn’t, but it’s the truth. Why would that be? Do you have any clue? Did your so called gran tell you anything about some shit like this?”
He holds your gaze for a couple of seconds while frowning as if he isn’t sure what he can reveal about what he knows.
“Nah, old hag didn’t wanta go through them trials neither. Wasn’t happy ’bout me sneakin’ in back then. Bunch of warnings notta open the door, but I don’t think she knew what was there, what went on. She’s been around fer a long time, guardin’ our town. It’s a reverence kinda crap, I reckon.” Garfiel takes a deep breath. “Echidna didn’t build the barrier for it to be broken, did she, that old witch? So why screw with it? That was gran’s thinkin’, I reckon.” Garfiel turns his torso to face the pond again, a movement that makes clear that the conversation is about to end. “Ya don’t build a barrier an’ call yer place Sanctuary ’cause ya want every damn gorfungol of the world ta come an’ go as they please, just like ya. It was supposed to keep our people safe.”
“If this place was so great, people wouldn’t want to break the barrier and leave.”
“Ah well. They’re just greedy. They don’t know what they got ’till it’s gone. They could be eatin’ the juiciest tarmodanos and the plumpest oyegambos and still fools would be achin’ to hunt fer myrmadapos instead.”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll substitute all the nonsense for sexual terms in my mind.”
“Heh.”
You shrug, then look around as if the sight of the enclosing forest would help.
“Well, Garfiel, thank you for wasting my time again.”
He shoos you off with one hand, without bothering to turn his head.
“Waste not, want not.”

Emilia didn’t pass the trials at her second attempt. She didn’t pass them at her third, nor fourth, nor fifth. You all witnessed her entering the witches’ tomb with a determined look in her face, and although she exited by herself, she was always crying. The same way you knew, without any tangible proof, that you had passed your first trial, Emilia knew that she had failed it. She never remembered what she faced in the witch’s vision. And with every attempt, her expression as she stood in front of the tomb to enter it looked more and more as if she was heading voluntarily to be tortured, and when she exited the tomb, she looked more weary and crestfallen. She didn’t improve; this was a more sophisticated version of hitting her head against a wall over and over.
Emilia became more withdrawn and sullen. It didn’t take long for your villagers to become dissatisfied. They blamed Emilia for their situation, they claimed that she wasn’t doing enough to get them out of there, that she never would without some ‘supernatural help’.
You asked to meet with the mayor of Sanctuary, Ryuzu, at her house near the church-like building, and Garfiel sat there as well, you aren’t sure if because he needed to know what you wanted or because of his role as the toughest guy in town.
“Here’s the thing, Ryuzu”, you begin. “Emilia cannot leave, and her sense of duty, as well as the guilt she leans towards naturally, make it so she won’t stop herself from trying over and over. I won’t comment on the prospects of her passing the trials at this point, but what I want to ask you is the following: allow Roswaal’s villagers to return home. Their continuing presence here will only cause further conflict, both with Emilia and your local half-beast people, not to mention the resources you must be wasting to take care of people who aren’t tending the farms, your farm animals and such. Sounds like a reasonable suggestion to me.”
“Best idea ya ever had, half-pint”, Garfiel says. “Bastards were gettin’ on my nerves. I’d be happier if we kicked all them ungrateful dicks and let the rest of us enjoy a moment’s peace.”
“I thought you were the one who would raise a fuss about the idea, Garfiel. I’m surprised to find out you were a reasonable guy all along.”
Garfiel shrugs.
“If it means less ungrateful bastard villagers runnin’ ’round, then sure.”
Ryuzu is staring at you as if thinking about your proposal. This tween-sized elf who is somehow Garfiel’s grandmother hasn’t reacted to the punk’s answer.
“I do agree that lady Emilia is unlikely to quit her attempts to pass the trials. It’s taking a big enough toll on her mental health already, she doesn’t need the added stress of the villagers’ expectations. Very well then, Young Su, I will allow it. How do you propose they all return home?”
These two are quite reasonable for a couple of blackmailers, you think.
“It seems that Ram had hired a bunch of merchants so they would carry the villagers here on their carriages. I’ll send my own personal merchant Otto to a nearby village so he can hire some others. I guess we can get a caravan ready for tomorrow.”

As both Otto and Ram were herding the villagers and their few belongings to the carriages waiting at the edge of Sanctuary, you remain with Emilia, who is sitting at the table in Ryuzu’s home. You aren’t sure if she would force herself to bid farewell to the villagers, most of whom have given up supporting her, and Emilia has grown so highly strung after her failed attempts that she can hardly bring herself to look you in the eye. You have sat next to her, and are rubbing her back to comfort her.
“I should… face them and tell them that I’m sorry”, she says with a weak voice. “But even if I told them that I believe that I will eventually lift the barrier, it won’t matter to them any longer. They will forget about this place.”
You don’t want to comment on her baseless hope. Given that not only her attempts at passing the trials aren’t improving, her sanity is deteriorating. You can’t imagine it ending any other way than with Emilia having a mental breakdown, and that brings so many horrible memories of your own attempts at preventing Rem from leaving on Crusch caravan, that the knot in your throat makes it hard to speak.
“Emilia, don’t worry about Roswaal’s villagers any longer. When I make sure they reach their homes safely, I’ll come back and we’ll focus entirely on how you can get through this. Just get some sleep in the meantime, alright?”
Emilia, nods slowly, her gaze averted to the side as she sees something else in her mind.
“You will return to me, right?”
“Of course. Don’t doubt it for a moment.”
“Thank you, Subaru…”
You sigh then turn to leave her be, only to see Ram at the doorway. You both leave Ryuzu’s home together.
“Everyone is ready, Barusu.”
Emilia suffering like that turned you increasingly morose. You barely want to address anyone else, but it has made you a bit more sympathetic towards Ram, who most of the time looks as if she’s fed up with everything.
“Do you have any suggestions about the trip home, or something I should check at the mansion?”, you ask.
“Attempt to figure out what Frederica intended by giving you that magic crystal. We need to know the extent of her betrayal. However, try to avoid a physical confrontation with her, because she will crush you like the defenseless bug that you are.”
“Ugh. Thanks for your support, sis.”
After you part ways with the pink-haired senior servant, you meet up with Otto, who is loading some of the villagers’ belongings on other people’s carriages. The tumult of people walking around, hauling stuff or just talking excitedly is threatening to give you a headache.
Suddenly someone approaches you. It’s the male teen, around seventeen years old, that had been helping a group of younger villagers during the Witch’s Cult’s assault. He’s also displaying his bare chest again, even though he doesn’t have much to show off. He must be in some sort of crusade against any clothes that cover the upper half of the body.
“You are coming with us, aren’t you, sir?”, the guy asks. “You can count on me to help with whatever needs to be done.”
“I’m surprised you came to Sanctuary. Beyond that idiotic village chief of yours, it’s mostly children, women and old people.”
“I was worried about the troubles they would encounter here, and I wanted to protect them if I could. It’s just too bad that lady Emilia couldn’t pass the trials, but then again I don’t blame her. Nobody has done so in hundreds of years. Poor lady, she always looks sad when I see her around.”
“… Yeah, she does.”
Otto comes to your side and starts whispering.
“Hey, don’t talk too much about lady Emilia in front of this guy. He’s head over heels for her.”
The teenager’s eyes widen as he blushes.
“Oh?! Wh-where did you hear that lie? I do not have those kind of…! Y-you’re just saying that to tease me, aren’t you? I just can tell that she’s kind and sweet, and when the chief called her a demon at that meeting, it made my blood boil!”
You smile at the teenager’s kind words, and pat him on the shoulder.
“You’re a very loyal person.” You suddenly remember that you threatened to murder a bunch of villagers at that meeting, due to how angry they had made you. “Shit, so you were listening… I kind of went off the rails when they started disrespecting Emilia.”
“No, I felt that anger myself! I have always wanted to stand up against that nasty chief. He really is an asshole. All he ever did since her speech is insult lady Emilia and complain about us supporting her.”
“What an utter dick. Maybe we should just push him off his carriage on the way home, hopefully into a bottomless pit.”
Otto chuckles, but the teenager doesn’t laugh. He frowns instead.
“Talking about murdering people… I don’t find that funny, sir.”
You shrug.
“Ah, well. You can find humor in terrible things, as long as they don’t happen to you. Don’t worry, I doubt bottomless pits exist even in your fantasy world.”
Once every villager is either sitting or standing on a carriage, and every driver’s seat is filled, Garfiel comes by you as you are sitting next to Otto on a driver’s seat. You aren’t sure if the punk has come to bid you farewell or to annoy you for the last time until you return.
“I’m sure that as soon as we pass the barrier I’ll start missing the nonsense that comes out from behind those triangled teeth of yours, Garfiel”, you say.
The punk smirks.
“We’ll just hafta come up with a suitably funny noise that’ll remind me of yer insults when I miss ’em. Never think I’d miss bein’ insulted, but it’s true that ya’ve been growin’ on me. Same as fungus between the toes, I reckon.”
“Ah, thanks for the lovely comparison. Anyway, I’m sure to check on your lively sister Frederica, whom you love and miss so much that it breaks your heart you haven’t seen her for so long. Do you want me to relay a message to her the next time I get to gawk at her gorgeous form?”
Touched where it bothers him the most, Garfiel’s cheeks twitch, and he makes a face of disgust.
“Eat a dick!”
You give a mischievous grin.
“Just that? ‘Frederica, eat a dick’, then?”
Garfiel groans.
“Yer an asshole.”
You chuckle.
“Actually, if you love her so much, maybe I should kiss her on your behalf as well? How sloppily should I do it?”
He tightens his fists. He begin to walk away, but he stops and turns his head slowly, a dark look in his eyes.
“Try it an’ I’ll break yer fucking jaw.”
You give him a smile and nod.
“Right then. Well, off we go.”
The carriage starts rolling, and you tip your index finger at Garfiel, who glares at you for a moment, before flashing a toothy grin and raising his own finger in turn.

Roleplaying through “Re:Zero” with the GPT-3 story generator (Part 48)

This entry covers part of the tenth volume of the original “Re:Zero” novels.

In the previous entry, the protagonist made his fake mom cry, and then he told a dead witch that he looked forward to drinking her spit.


After you carried the unconscious Emilia out of the witches’ tomb, everyone who had gathered in the clearing makes sure that she returns safe in Otto’s carriage back to Ryuzu’s home at the center of Sanctuary. You put the half-elf in a guest bed. Although she woke up shortly after, she had a hard time understanding where she was, or that she had failed to succeed at the trials. She looked terrified and was incoherent like during a high fever, even though there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with her body. You feared that the trials had genuinely broken her mind, snapped her sanity, but after a while she began to calm down. Both you and Ryuzu carried on a normal conversation with her, explaining how she ended up in one of Ryuzu’s beds. Emilia was beyond exhausted, so you agreed to let her sleep.
Everyone’s mood is down, but the mayor of Sanctuary offers you all some snacks and drinks, even though it’s close to midnight. Shortly after you are all sitting around the table in Ryuzu’s cozy living room, and you in particular are chewing on some cookies.
Otto has convinced the elf grandmother to serve him some alcoholic drinks, and he’s drowning his worry the best way he knows.
“I can’t handle lady Emilia looking so broken, so pained! I wish the trials had a face so I could break it!”
Garfiel is slumped on a chair as he munches on fried potatoes. Ever since he heard Emilia’s screams in the guest room, his gaze has been unfocused, and from time to time he scratches the nasty scar on his forehead.
“As if a lightweight like ya could break any face. Don’t put on airs, ya damn merchant. Ya hit somethin’ and yer arm would shatter.”
“I-It’s the intention that counts!”
You have been observing Garfiel’s expressions. He had attempted the trials, but failed to break the barrier. The punk seems distraught about Emilia’s mental state, at this point possibly only because she’s hot, but he doesn’t seem disappointed.
“You didn’t believe for a second that Emilia would have passed the trials, did you, Garfiel?”
He shoots you a glance as if trying to figure out if you are accusing him of something. His light blonde hairline is glistening with sweat.
“I said so, I reckon. Didn’t I, half-pint? Can’t pass those damn trials. They’re made so everybody will fail. That’s how that old witch wanted it. It hits right were it hurts. Princess’ too shy, no way she’d stand whut them trials want to show her.”
You sigh, and then let out a long yawn. You’re ready to collapse face-first into your bed, but a previous glance to Ram reminded you that you’ll need to deal with Roswaal’s clownish crap in some minutes.
“Now it will depend on what she decides to do when she wakes up. I was with her, I heard what she said to the villagers. She was determined to attempt the trials over and over until she succeeded. She would feel horribly guilty if she just gives up now, despite whatever traumatized her so much.”
Garfiel narrows his eyes and shakes his head.
“Shy princess should give up, I reckon. Would be better for her. People’s minds are like the great bridge of Ehurradan: a tad too much weight and they collapse, sendin’ them carriages to the rocks below. It’s all a big mess.”
“What kind of ruler would she be if she just gave up after one try?”
“She’s damaged, everybody can see that! She needs to give up on this foolishness and move on. She will only get hurt more. Hearin’ a pretty girl screamin’ like that, damn torture.”
“And all we can do is support her from a distance?”, Otto whines, then downs the rest of his drink. “I can’t deal with such impotence!”
“I reckon ya should be used to impotence with how quickly ya empty those bottles, small-timer”, Garfiel says, sounding a bit proud that he could make that point.
“Not that I would ever confirm such a suggestion…”
You feel Ram’s gaze burning the side of your face. She has sat opposite you, and like the spartan, ferocious servant that she is, she hasn’t reached for any of the snacks or drinks. You want to stuff some cookies in her mouth, but she would likely bite your fingers off.
“Barusu, do you intend on addressing it at any point?”
The senior servant is staring at you as if she could read your mind the harder she focused.
“We’ll go see our lord whenever you want”, you say. “I just wanted to figure out everyone’s thoughts about what happened to Emilia.”
Ram sighs.
“I don’t know if you are avoiding the issue or if you are that dense. No, I suppose that I know. The witches’ tomb didn’t kill you, and you entered the chamber of the trials. So you did go through the trial, didn’t you?”
By how Garfiel and Otto look at you, they must have forgotten it, worried as they were with the half-elf. However, Ryuzu, sitting at the head of the table, only narrows her eyes.
“Yes, I did go through the trial”, you admit, and to your surprise you sound guilty.
Garfiel straightens his back and grimaces at you.
“Haah!? It doesn’t show on yer face at all! Crap, ya passed the first trial, didn’t ya?” He looks down at the table for a moment, as if he can’t believe it, but then he glares at you. “First part shows the past! Yer past must’ve been an easy ride then! No worries at all, justa great time! Must’ve been frolickin’ around with them gheltofens, drinkin’ milk straight from their teats. Damn half-pint…”
“Did you actually clear the trial, Barusu?”, Ram asks.
“Yes, I did. I never got any confirmation, but it ended as if I had succeeded, and for some reason I knew clearly that I had passed it, as if I had been told.”
“What did the trial show you?”, Ram asks as if it is any of her business.
Garfiel groans, and quickly intercedes in the conversation.
“Ya go through the trial, ya don’t wanna talk ’bout it! Ya’d know if ya tried it, Ram! It’s like the unwritten code of the Yeguhal assassins!”
“No unwritten code, then”, Ram says. “Barusu, if you can help lady Emilia succeed-“
“It showed my parents”, you say soberly. “They are… gone. I’ll never see them again. I dealt with some unfinished business, I told those visions of them what I hadn’t got the chance to say.”
You notice that the two of them look at each other for a moment, and then at you. Ram’s gaze softens.
“I suppose we can safely assume you have passed.”
Garfiel gives a nasty snort. He seemed about to speak, but he closes his mouth seemingly having given up on sharing whatever thought he had.
“I can guess what was going to come out of your mouth, Garfiel”, you say. “No, my past wasn’t that terrible, not in comparison with all the shit that goes on in this world, and certainly not with the garbage we had to handle to defend ourselves against the cult. Just unfinished business with my family.”
Ryuzu, who after preparing the snacks and drinks had sat down but had contributed very little to the conversation, because she seemed exhausted like an old person, finally speaks up with her incongruously young voice.
“I’m afraid it’s not enough to pass the trials, Young Su, or at least not in the sense that you understand what passing implies.”
“You can just call me Subaru. You aren’t saving any time by addressing me like that.”
“Oh, please allow an old woman’s habits to go unchallenged, dear.”
“An old woman’s, sure, but you don’t look older than twelve!”
“Never mind that. What I meant to say is that the trials are considered fully passed if the spirit of our lady of Sanctuary, that one guesses is witnessing each attempt, considers the contestant interesting enough. And like the gods, I don’t believe she would lift a hundreds of years old barrier just because she watched an untroubled person breeze through different stages of his or her life. For beings that powerful, one guesses there’s nothing worse than boring.”
“That’s disturbing. Well, for the purposes of opening your dreary village, I’m sorry my parents weren’t torn apart by monsters as my baby self watched. But you heard Emilia’s cries. She should be able to entertain that sadistic witch.”

Shortly after midnight, even though the rest of the group wanted to stay together for a bit longer, Ram orders you to follow her through the dark paths of Sanctuary. The village doesn’t have streetlights, and the sky has gotten too cloudy for the moonlight to illuminate the houses properly, but Ram could probably reach her destination with her eyes closed. It seems that the clown is resting in an isolated, one-story house partially reclaimed by nature. You wouldn’t think of anyone as important as the supposedly most powerful magician of the kingdom to be recovering from his injuries there, and maybe that’s part of the point.
“Wait outside, Barusu. I’ll make sure that the lord is ready.”
She expected you to answer, but from the moment you accepted that you were about to meet with Roswaal, your mood had gone dour. The clown had already proved himself to be unreliable by abandoning his people against the Witch’s Cult, and now he got himself injured to this degree for what seemed like pure theatrics. Constantly making trouble for everybody. In the end, Ram narrows her eyes at you, then pushes the door. You get a glimpse of the foot of a bed bathed in flickering candlelight. The door closes.
A groan escapes your mouth. You don’t want to talk to Roswaal. Not for a second, not in the way that two people have a conversation. You remember clearly the moment many lives ago in which you had travelled to the mansion only to find Ram’s beheaded corpse. You recall looking up at one of the many portraits of Roswaal in a variety of fantasy clown makeups, and feeling a cold disgust lodge itself into your heart. A king who cannot protect his people is no king, but what would you think of a king who sees trouble coming and prances away?
In your mind, Roswaal isn’t even a person anymore. He’s a reflection of most of what’s wrong not only with this world but with your previous one. You find yourself shaking your head as a rage burns in your chest. Wait outside, Roswaal’s dog told you. You have waited for far too long for this clown bastard to show his face.
You take a deep breath, clench your teeth, walk up to the door and push it in as hard as you can.
“ROOOOOOSSSSWAAAAAAAL!”
The door slams against the wall with a loud bang, then it creaks as it trembles slowly towards you. Ram is frozen a couple of steps away from you as if she was about to exit the house, and she’s glaring at you in disbelief, her mouth slightly open. Roswaal is resting his back against the headboard of the bed he’s lying on. Your gaze fixes by itself on the bloody bandages that cover Roswaal’s entire torso, and that begin under his chin. Everything below his abdomen remains under the covers, but you guess that the rest of his body is bandaged as well. His shoulder-length, indigo hair glistens in the candlelight. Despite his conspicuous injuries, the clown is wearing his war paint: over the powder white foundation, he has painted purple triangles upwards from his eyes, and his black lipstick extends out of the corners of his mouth and curves in thin lines to connect with the also black eye shadow. He’s smiling at you.
You truly must have been wandering around in a daze when you first started living in his mansion, back when seeing his dick traumatized you, because that smile creeps the fuck out of you now. It looks as if he isn’t sure if he knows you but still he would be able to predict anything you could throw at him, hours before the intention crossed your mind. Damn it, Emilia, why didn’t you join Crusch’s camp instead? You all would be having such great, pseudo-incestual times back at the capital.
“Hello, Subaru. Long time no see”, Roswaal says with his lilting voice.
As the rage that had overwhelmed you subsides, your breath stabilizes, and you no longer feel your heartbeat in your throat, you feel like an idiot. You avoid glancing Ram’s way, you don’t want to know what face she’s making.
“Hi.”
There’s an empty chair facing the side of the bed, intended for guests. You sit down slowly, and you finally lift your gaze to hold Roswaal’s.
“I told you clearly to wait outside, Barusu”, Ram tells you sternly from your left. “You heard me.”
“Uh… I’m sorry I ignored you back there, Ram.”
“Apology not accepted.”
You lower your head because you feel a headache coming, but Roswaal clears his throat theatrically.
“First of all, Subaru, congratulations are in order, are they not? Ram has detailed your heroic actions. Single-handedly, you secured an alliance with two of the other royal candidates so they would lend you their strength, and together you defeated an entire branch of the Witch’s Cult! Unheard of, truly. You defended your lady Emilia saving her life, to the extent that she’s truly grateful to you I’m sure, and prevented the nearby village from getting destroyed. All that from a young man that most of the kingdom would only know before from his juvenile, very public desplay of defiance at the royal summons!”
He waits with his mouth half-open for you to answer, but you can’t figure out anything decent to say. Everything that comes to your mind regarding your lord isn’t appropriate for the circumstances.
“I did all that, I guess…”
Roswaal closes his eyes, and his smile broadens. Clown makeup doesn’t look better in the candlelight.
“Anyway,” Roswaal continues while raising an eyebrow, “since you have proven yourself worthy, I think we need to come up with a new title for yourself.”
“A title?”
“Yes, a title! In front of everyone who mattered in this kingdom, you claimed to be a knight. You have now proven that you deserve such a title, have you not? It’s the lowest rank of nobility, but I have no doubt that such a promising man like yourself will only ascend. What do you think, Subaru? We will perform the rite of passage when we return home.”
You stare at him with confusion. Although you had planned to be at least angry during this meeting, and possibly even grab your lord and punch him repeatedly, which you are pretty sure you promised to someone, you can’t believe this turn of events. Shitty you, a fucking knight? Not even that Priscilla broad would be able to call you a commoner anymore, or at least you would be able to correct her. In your face, Priscilla. And all over those tits…
“It… would be an honor, lord Roswaal. Being a knight sounds pretty fucking cool.”
“I’m glad you approve of the idea, I was a bit worried that you wouldn’t.”
You narrow one eye, trying to figure out what he means.
“I mean, I am a servant of Emilia, of course I would side with her and support her. If anything, being an official knight makes it easier.”
You continue to stare at him. He sighs, and clasps his hands together.
“Very well, now to the regretful part of our story. Ram has explained to me that Emilia hasn’t managed to pass the trial, has she? And it seems that the experience left her in a troubling state.”
“Troubling is a mild way of putting it, lord. She’s, uh…”
“I see that the both of you are holding back on what you truly want to say. Very well, I shall hear it all. I’m sure it can’t get any worse than my expectations.”
You and Ram hesitantly tell him all the details of what transpired in the tomb. Roswaal clicks his tongue and shakes his head slowly, but he doesn’t seem surprised. You can’t tell very much about his expression under all that makeup, though.
You repeat his words in your head.
“Wait, you didn’t expect her to pass the trial?”
“Should I? I would want nothing more than for our dear half-elf, the future ruler of this kingdom, to march into the tomb and vanquish every obstacle, but is that truly our lady Emilia?”
“No, but…”
“She is a kind being with a loving personality. That is not the personality of a ruler. While she has grown in certain ways ever since I met her in our fateful day, I knew it wouldn’t be enough for this trial. Much tougher people have tried and failed to pass the Witch of Greed’s unsporting trials.”
You feel a dull ache in your chest. You look down for a moment.
“You suggest that Emilia is too weak to succeed at the task she is determined to persevere at?”
Roswaal smiles as if waiting calmly for you to understand what he knows to be true.
“She is too weak to pass the trials, as well as to be the ruler over this land. I’m saying she isn’t fit for the duty that’s been forced on her. And I’m saying those things not to be cruel, but because it is the truth.”
You want to look away from his face. Even though you barely respect anyone, or at least enough that you would force yourself to measure your words, in front of Roswaal you feel like an insect. Had it always been this way? You can’t look to the right, because you are too close to the uneven paint of the wall, and if you looked to your left you would be staring at your sister-in-law’s slender, stockinged legs.
Roswaal briefly closes his eyes and lets out a silent breath.
“Whether she admits it to herself or not, Emilia wants to give up. Not many are meant to go on. So many are doomed to fall. Even the strongest of people, in the end, meet the same fate as their lowest of servants. It is an inescapable decree.” Roswaal’s voice takes on a whimsical sense of fatalism. “Even I am not above this law. Emilia’s failure will be inevitable. Even now, it is so obvious. She wishes to fail. Perhaps… Perhaps even before she took her vows to become a queen.”
You run your fingers through your hair. Your thoughts are spinning. The way the clown speaks makes it difficult to think properly.
“Roswaal… Why did you attempt to pass the trials even though you must have known that the Witch of Greed’s magical traps at the tomb were stronger than what you can handle?”
Roswaal lowers his head and stares at you intently.
“But you know already, Subaru. You are very familiar with it.”
A bead of sweat drips down your face as you feel the clown’s eyes pierce your head. There was something… fishy about that question.
“I don’t know what you mean, Roswaal.”
The clown’s eyes narrow to a squint.
“Sacrifice. It’s sacrifice, of course. Our villagers, as well as anyone who might be watching without us noticing, should know that where lord Roswaal failed, lady Emilia triumphed.”
“Except she didn’t…”
“No. She did not pass the trials. But she tried, did she not? And isn’t merit earned by the attempt rather than the success?”
You frown at the smiling clown.
“Enough playing around”, you say, hardening your voice. “You suggested that Emilia is too weak for her to ever pass the trials. You never expected her to succeed. I disagree, but letting that aside, what’s your plan here?”
“That’s where you come in, Subaru. You passed the first part of the trial, did you not?”
Your breath thickens, and you find yourself having to widen your nostrils.
“Was that part of your plan? You already believed that Emilia would be traumatized by the trials, but that I would run in to help her, triggering my own trial?”
“Would that be a mistake, a miscalculation? Are you agonizing over what the trial forced you to face, the same way Emilia or Garfiel agonized?”
“No. I’m just wondering what your end game is.”
“You pass the trials, Emilia gets the credit. That’s your job as her servant. As her knight, which you will be in a short while. Am I wrong?”
You grit your teeth. It seems to be the only motion you can do right now.
“What’s the problem, Subaru?”, the clown asks. “A true knight serves their master, not themselves. That’s what a knight does.”
“Emilia isn’t helpless, Roswaal. She’s burdened with trauma from her past, that she never spoke to me in depth about, and she isn’t tough enough yet. But she was determined to grow, to face her troubles. Do you intend to keep holding her hand if she ever gets to sit on the throne?”
“Of course not. A ruler must strive to become a better person, and Emilia has the capacity for that.”
“Then doesn’t that mean she also has the capacity to overcome her own trials? It would be very irresponsible of you to just give up on her like this. You must have been guiding her from some time now, and to some extent as a parental role. She needs our support, now more than ever.”
The clown sighs, looking disappointed.
“My, you’re quite the idealist. I suppose that’s why Emilia is so fond of you… Sadly, not everyone is worthy of such ideals.”
You are getting angrier, and you should. Although there are many things you need to say to this man, you feel Ram very close. You always had to be on guard to a certain extent to deflect all the disrespect she threw against you, but now you have no doubt that if the clown orders her to hit you, or to torture you, she would. You aren’t Ram’s friend, and not even her brother-in-law in her eyes. Still, you need to bring up the truth of Roswaal failings both as a lord and as a man.
“Roswaal… I need to speak to you.”
“I was under the impression that we were having a conversation.”
“I mean I need to speak to you, not to the clown.”
The clown’s eyes widen, but then he sighs and turns his head to face forward.
“As you wish.”
He passes his hand in front of his face, and as if his makeup was an illusion, in a moment you find yourself staring at a man’s face. Roswaal’s chiseled features, no doubt built over generations of wealthy people attracting beautiful women, could belong to either a man of thirty or up to fifty, but you wouldn’t be surprised if he did other weird things to his appearance with magic. When he turns to look at you and he smiles softly, he gives the impression of being some aging playboy that keeps wondering why the pussy isn’t coming around as often.
“Do you prefer this form, Subaru?”, he asks with his usual theatric voice.
“It’s far less nightmare-inducing, for sure.”
“I see… Even with my natural looks, I can’t convince you to trust me. You’ve always been a difficult boy.”
You look up at Ram. She is standing around a meter and a half away from you, staring at you intently as if measuring every one of your movements. There’s nothing resembling sympathy in her red eyes.
You face Roswaal again.
“Let me get to the point, lord Roswaal. When you presented Emilia to the world, you knew that the Witch’s Cult would plan an attack, that they would attempt to kidnap Emilia and murder her in their ritual to resurrect their precious witch.”
“Yes, that was expected. I mean, that is what they do, isn’t it?”
“That’s not the point! The point is, you never prepared us for any of it. When did you think they were going to attack? In months, in years?”
“My friend, I could predict the weather for you, and even then it would be wrong nine times out of ten. The weather, and anything else, is always changing.”
You tighten your hand resting on your thigh into a fist. Roswaal lowers his gaze to it for a moment.
“Are you that angry with me, Subaru?”, he asks calmly. “What is it that you really want to tell me?”
“I want you to fix everything. All the deaths, all the damage, just make everything like it was before the attacks. But I know that’s impossible at this point. So I’ll ask you exactly what I need to know: when you left for Sanctuary, did you know the Witch’s Cult would attack us while you were away?”
“Yes, I did.”
The bluntness of his answer surprises you as your eyes widen slightly. You notice that Ram has turned her head towards her lord, and although you only shoot her a glance, you see her trying to contain her shock.
“Roswaal…”, you begin with a thin voice. “Did you deliberately abandon us to die?”
Your lord sustains his smile as if he intends for you to come to your senses and agree with his position, but you keep glaring at him. His eyes narrow slightly.
“When a king lets his army defend his castle, but he isn’t there physically, has he abandoned his people to die?”
Your face twists in a grimace of disbelief. Your guts hurt as well, as if speaking with this guy has ruined your digestion.
“Do you mean our fierce Ram?”, you say as you point to your left with your thumb. “Do you seriously suggest that she would have been able to stem the tide of cultists, as well as defeating that stalkerish ancient ghost, by her damn pink-haired self? Because I know for a fact that’s false.”
Roswaal now looks at you with open affection.
“Subaru… I meant you, of course.”
Out of the corner of your eye you see Ram shifting her weight. You close your mouth, and you end up having to blink a few times because a bead of sweat has rolled into your right eye. You haven’t heard Roswaal right, have you? This must be his version of a joke, appropriately tasteless for such a shady clown.
“Are you seriously saying that you considered that a young man whose body hasn’t yet reached adulthood, and who Emilia brought home mostly out of pity after we retrieved her medallion almost efortlessly, and who made an ass of himself and of your entire camp at the royal summons in front of the current rulers of this kingdom, and who was exiled from your camp by its lady and told to never return, and whom for all you knew you would never see again, was the one who would defend your domain from the onslaught of the worst terrorist group in this world?”
“You think too little of yourself, Subaru”, Roswaal says with an amused tone.
When he smiles again, you feel nauseous. You fear you will throw up at any moment. You didn’t think it was possible to dislike your lord more than you already did, but your whole chest feels sick.
“But yes, I see you want me to be more straightforward”, Roswaal adds with his lilting voice. “I expected you, Natsuki Subaru, to do everything in your power to regain your lady’s favor, fighting everyone who would stand in your way. And you did! If you feel bad because you couldn’t save all the villagers, you don’t have to worry. Nobody expects a war to be won without casualties, that’s wholly unreasonable.”
You have a lump in your throat and you can’t swallow it away, no matter how hard you try. Your eyes are starting to burn and your vision is turning blurry.
“Things had to happen this way”, Roswaal continues. “If you have any complaints, take them up with me, by all means. Your lady was the only person who showed you compassion, and for that, you will worship her. Isn’t that right?”
A flash of rage runs through your body, making you tremble, and before you know it you have stood up and are launching your fist toward your lord’s face. However, something soft, or at least softer than a wall, catches it and holds it in place. The force of the impact still hurts your hand. You find yourself staring at Ram’s impavid expression, at her red eyes, who glare at you as if you are just making her life harder. Your heart is beating hard.
“Let go, Ram”, you say with a raspy voice, while trying to yank your fist back.
“Not until you calm down.”
You feel her strength. You doubt the demon servant would have any trouble picking you up and throwing you out, as if she were a heavyweight bouncer who boxes professionally on the side.
“It’s alright, my dear Ram”, Roswaal says calmly. “We have all been stressed lately, and our Subaru more than anyone else, I’m sure. I don’t blame him for being angry.”
“Shut up!”
You shout this at your lord as you try to pull your fist back with all your strength, but it doesn’t move even an inch.
“I really should thank you, though I know that at this moment it won’t mean much coming from me”, Roswaal says. “If it weren’t for you, Emilia would have never made it this far. You did what was necessary, and without you being there for her, it wouldn’t have been possible.”
Furious, you close your eyes and grit your teeth.
“Let… go…”, you say through them while trying to pull your fist back.
“It’s alright, Ram”, Roswaal says quietly. “He’ll calm down soon.”
The demon servant lets go of your hand, and you almost fall on your ass. However, you end up sitting down slowly on the chair, then you rest your arms on your thighs and focus on regaining your breath.
“Do not attack the lord again”, Ram says sternly.
“I won’t”, you reply softly.
Soon your heart rate is back to normal and your head is clear. You wipe your forehead with a sleeve. Roswaal waits until you lift your gaze towards him again, and he receives it with a warm smile.
You manage to speak, although your voice is thin.
“Roswaal, back when I lived somewhere else, I read some arguments about why life existed at all in our planet. Because life seemed to not exist anywhere else as far as we knew, and because the rest of the solar system seemed so unwelcoming to life, many people believed that life in our planet was created, that we were put there by some deity who made us in his image. Are you with me so far?”
“It is an interesting conversation”, he says while watching you curiously. “Please, do continue.”
You take a deep breath.
“And it looked as if it had some merits. I mean, our planet seemed to have been designed for life. It was orbiting in the Goldilocks zone of our sun, which might not mean anything to you, but it refers to an area of our solar system in which the planets located there would have the proper temperature to contain liquid water on the surface. Therefore it would be far more likely for life to develop. If your species comes to life in a place where it doesn’t get too hot or too cold, at least most of the time, it does seem too much of a coincidence that it would all have occurred casually.”
“You have given this some thought before”, Roswaal says with a nod.
“However, we as intelligent species would have only been able to think through these mysteries because we existed in the first place, and life wouldn’t have had a chance to develop in a planet that wasn’t suitable for life, so by default, any planet in which intelligent life could arise would be one that would seem as if it had been designed for life to appear. You know what I mean?”
“That does make perfect sense to me, yes.”
You take a deep breath, and then glare at the fucker.
“What I mean with all this, Roswaal, is that you are the laziest son of a bitch I have ever met. Suggesting that what came out of your mouth was easy for you to say doesn’t even begin to cover it. You literally wouldn’t have been able to say it in any other timeline. From your perspective it must have been a complete miracle that I came out of nowhere to prevent Emilia from getting horribly murdered by those cultist bastards, and if you believe for a second that what ended up happening was a probable course of events, you are either insane or a bloody liar.”
“Now, now, Subaru”, Roswaal says while closing his eyes and laughing softly, “I am sure even if it wasn’t probable, it was destined to happen. This is a world where anything can happen after all.”
“Fuck your vague answers, asshole! Damn big-dicked clown! Tell me the truth!”
“My, my, someone is on edge today”, he says, still smiling warmly. “In any case, I shall be vague once more and tell you that yes, I had no doubt that you would come through for us, and especially for your beloved Emilia.”
“My beloved, huh? The hell do you know…?” You hide your face in your hands. “I can’t believe any of this.”
“It’s okay, Subaru. I took a gamble on you. It’s just nice to hear that the gamble paid off. I also understand if you are feeling a bit of regret for your actions, but you will eventually be proud of everything you have achieved.”
You swallow. You want to leave this house and be alone for a good while. You feel as if you have been hollowed out, but you find some strength to face your lord again.
“You know, due to your stunt of making me do your job while you fucked around in Hicksville, I had to pull off some crazy shit that will have consequences down the line. You know Wilhelm, from Crusch’s camp, right? Wilhelm van Astrea?”
“Yes, I know him. He’s a very famous hero, and somewhat of an idol to many of the young knights. Why?”
“As I negotiated for them to lend me their strength,” you continue with some regret, “I sort of ended up suggesting that you had figured out a way to know when the White Whale is going to appear next. You know, that horrible monster that has roamed this world for centuries destroying shit and erasing people from existence? None other than the Sword Devil himself is pissed because you didn’t share those predictions with him. So you better make up to him. I doubt you have seen how quickly that old man can detach people’s heads as well as all their limbs.”
Roswaal laughs softly, closing his eyes.
“I guess we will need to figure out how to deal with him, don’t we?”, he says amusedly. “I look forward to it. I will do my best to calm him down, but I can’t promise anything.”
You feel like you are losing your mind. You don’t want to be in the same room as this clown any longer. You stand up and bow towards Roswaal.
“I will support my lady Emilia in her determination to pass the trials, no matter how many tries it takes her. She’s a great gal, her beauty is out of this world, she has a rocking body despite her small tits, and her mouth tastes sweet. I will now take my leave.”
As you turn your back to him, you hear a small chuckle.
“You are quite the dedicated man. Your dedication has not gone unnoticed, I assure you.”
When you have finally exited the house and the door has closed behind you, you feel as if you can finally breathe. You are glad that the cloudy night doesn’t allow you to see much. Ram passes you by, and then turns to look at you.
“You have to stop acting so crazy, Barusu”, she says calmly. “It will only cause trouble for everyone.”
“I’m the one acting crazy, huh…?”
“I can’t call it anything else.”
You both walk in the direction of Ryuzu’s house. You are heading there because you want to check on Emilia, but you don’t know where Ram intends to go.
“Ram… I’m despondent all of a sudden. Let’s find a barn and have sex.”
Ram stiffens, and she looks at you with a mixture of surprise, disgust and anger in her face.
“I don’t have the energy to deal with this right now, Barusu, nor do I want you to involve me in your indecent games.”
She walks away from you while you stand in place. You lower your head for a moment, and then call out to Ram.
“You were also shocked by Roswaal’s actions, I could see it in your face. It must seem to you as insane-“
Ram has turned her head enough to speak over her shoulder.
“No, I won’t have a conversation with you after you made sexual advances towards me, regardless of whether that was your idea of a joke. Go to bed.”
You stand there in the dark as Ram gets smaller and smaller. You rub your eyes and sigh deeply.

Roleplaying through “Re:Zero” with the GPT-3 story generator (Part 47)

This entry covers part of the tenth volume of the original “Re:Zero” novels.

In the previous part, Emilia attempts the trials for the first time, the protagonist riles up Garfiel for no good reason, we learn that the protagonist has parents and that his father in particular doesn’t know what a headbutt is.


As you walk your way home, the sights of your hometown you have left behind make your heart ache. It looks subtly different, as if you were travelling as an adult through the neighborhood you lived at as a child, but you know it’s due to how you’ve changed ever since you were kidnapped into a fantasy world. In this fake reality, every person you come across gives you the impression that you have seen them before, as if every single detail is built from your memories. Such power is almost unimaginable, as not even the most powerful supercomputers of your previous world would have been able to reproduce reality to such an extent. This is the ability of one of the witches of old, from before the last Apocalypse. But should you be surprised? You already came across the Witch of Gluttony’s power, able to devour the memories of a person from every other person in the world, as well as rewriting reality to the extent that the actions of the missing person were assigned to someone else.
You finally reach the front gate of your parent’s two-story house. It took your dad so much effort and time in order to procure a nest for his family, but it now feels so small, so squeezed between the adjacent houses. The entire thing wouldn’t make even the fortieth part of Roswaal’s place. And yet, such a house was a pinnacle of middle class success in your country.
You step inside, and mom is where you would expect her. She’s reading a paperback that she holds with her left hand while she stirs a pot absentmindedly with the other. As you look at her, you feel that you hadn’t done so for a long time. She has tied back her long, brown hair in a ponytail, and her eyes are too similar to the ones that stare back when you look in the mirror. You know this isn’t your mother, but a construct made from your memories. Still, you feel for this version the same as you did for the real one.
“Subaru, you came back without your father?”, mom asks.
You realize that you must have stood near the doorway of the kitchen as in a daze, and it takes you a moment to return to this reality.
“Yeah, he’s gone to do some errands. More importantly, mom, I’m getting my backpack and going to school, to catch the remaining classes.”
Mom stands there confused, and contemplates your expression as if she doesn’t know if this is your idea of a prank. You guess she didn’t believe for a second that you would snap out of your state. But then she smiles softly.
“I told you those peas would give you energy.”
You exhale, then shrug.
“I’ll prepare my backpack then. I suppose every book is where I remember having left it.”
When you enter your room and look around at your shelves full of books, manga and music cds, you realize that the only thing you would miss more than your parents is all the stories you came across, that many artists from your previous world shared with others. You would never be able to get into a series that you had been interested in but never checked out, nor finish ongoing ones that hadn’t ended. You promise to yourself that you are going to learn how to read your new language properly, and figure out what interesting stories from your new home world you remain ignorant about.
After you clean your face in the bathroom and it doesn’t look anymore as if you had been crying, you walk down the steps to the front door only to find your mom waiting for you. She has dressed up and is holding her purse.
“I figure that I could accompany you for a bit. I have some shopping to do. It’s not too weird to walk out there with your mother, right?”
“Even if it’s weird, I’m fine with it.”
You walk to school next to mom. For five minutes she hasn’t mentioned you having decided to return to school after a long absence, nor the fact that you could barely leave your room for a long time. She goes on about stuff she saw on television, some bits of local news that you don’t even remember. It all turns into a droning sound in your ears, and you can barely bring yourself up to nod or reply with single words, even though it doesn’t seem to distract her from her thoughts.
“Where were you heading, mom?”, you ask with a thin voice.
“Oh, I need to go the mall to buy some groceries, but also a new dress for your cousin’s wedding. It’s in two weeks, you know”, your mother says with a smile.
Your mouth is dry, and your heartbeat is quickening. You swallow.
“Then we’ll part ways in front of the railway crossing, right?”
After she takes a good look at your face, she frowns slightly.
“Are you sure you are feeling well, Subaru? You seem a bit off. Maybe it’s not a good idea to go out if you’re feeling sick.”
“Never felt better.”
Your mother smiles weakly.
You realize that you’ve slowed your pace the closer you both get to the railway crossing, which you can already see at the end of the street. The barrier is down, and the sound is alerting of an incoming train. You have both reached the point of the street in which you would part ways. She turns towards you and smiles.
“Well then, have fun at school. I’ll prepare you some curry rice for when you come back.”
She had begun to turn, but you speak up. Your voice comes out thin.
“Mom, aren’t you going to say anything else about me returning to school?”
Her eyes widen, and her face shows surprise.
“Do you want me to say something?”
“Yeah, of course I do. Don’t you have plenty you would have liked to tell me during this period of my life? About the fact that I refused to go to school, that I went through such a depression and anxiety attacks that I could barely leave the house? Isn’t the fact that I have found the strength to return something to comment on?”
“… Yes. You’re right. I had not thought about that until now, as I was too occupied with being happy that you were returning to school. But yes, you are correct. You are behind in all subjects, so returning to normal will involve studying extra hard. It might be too difficult for you to do it on your own, but if you find out that’s the case, we can pay for some private classes.”
As she says this, the train rushes past. The sound is shrill and loud. The crossing barrier lifts up.
You swallow the knot in your throat.
“What about my classmates, my teachers…? Everybody there seemed to consider me a freak who made them all uncomfortable. The atmosphere already solidified, so for all those remaining years I would have needed to deal with classmates who considered me an outcast to reject and to mock. What do you think about that?”
The pleasant look on her face hardens as she looks away from you.
“That I always feared would happen.”
She clenches her hands around the fabric of her dress.
“Then what should I do, mom?”, you ask, barely preventing your voice from breaking. “How do I deal with this life, with the future that expects me in this world?”
She looks fragile. It feels as if you haven’t visited her for ages, and despite being in her early forties, she seems like an old lady to you.
“You know it already. Look around you, notice what people expect from you, and act accordingly. If you act normal, it will eventually become second nature.”
You lower your head. You feel hollow, as if something that should have filled you ever since you were born had never been there, and you suddenly noticed it’s absence. Even though you don’t want to, you hold your mother’s gaze.
“Mom, for the longest time, I despised you.”
She flinches as if you slapped her.
“All I remember of you teaching me how to survive in this world involved pushing me to be someone I’m not”, you say with a voice drained of emotion. “Everything that seemed weird or uncomfortable to you, you either didn’t address it, or you wanted for me to drown it deep inside of myself. It just happens that those things you always rejected from me are most of your son. You always made me feel as if I wasn’t worth anything unless I fit the image you were interacting with.”
She speaks with a shuddering breath.
“Your father and I always wanted the best for-“
“You know what your only principle you imbued in me does to a person? For as long as I can remember, most of my life consisted of wondering whether I was making a weird face, whether I was standing incorrectly, whether I was saying something I shouldn’t, or speaking at the right time. Every thought of mine was directed to anticipating what others would want of me, and everything that didn’t match that image was a monster that should be restrained and locked up in a basement. And because I started integrating that when I was a child, a few years later it wasn’t a conscious process any longer. Under the parts of my brain I had access to, other parts were dedicated to suppressing every thought and every feeling that didn’t fit what you would have called ‘normal’. For most of my life I didn’t know who I was, and I had failed to identify with my impulses to such an extent that I didn’t register my own emotions. I didn’t believe I had any. There was the conscious part of me, the one that should maneuver the world, and the despicable beast under it, which should be disciplined into obeying in silence, and otherwise stay out of sight. I only begun to live in middle school because I rejected everything you pressed into me, but by then I already felt so damaged that I don’t believe I can ever be fully fixed.”
Her eyes are watering, and she’s tightening her lips. She can’t hold your gaze. You wouldn’t be surprised if she simply shut off and walked away.
“But I don’t understand, you could become anything”, she says almost breathless. “You have the potential to be anyone.”
“Potential is nothing more than an expectation placed upon you by others. I could have only been one person: myself. And that’s the person you didn’t want me to be.”
She looks back at you, and you try to read her eyes. There’s a part of you that wants to see hate, or disgust. She doesn’t even allow herself to feel her sadness or regret.
“Mom, I don’t know you at all”, you say. “And I don’t think you ever allowed yourself to find out who you are. I don’t know who put in your head such a ridiculous principle, but you wasted your life. You almost wasted mine. The most I can do now is to struggle as well as I can with the pieces that remain.”
She looks away from you, and although she must be trying as hard as she can to prevent it, a tear rolls down her cheek. She wipes it quickly. You can’t imagine her saying anything. In any other circumstance, having to handle far less hurtful comments, she would have tried to excuse herself and walk away.
“I’m an idiot, mom”, you say quietly. “So are you, and so is every other person I have ever come across. We have no clue what we are doing, and we keep hurting others without meaning to.”
Mom has lowered her head, and seems frozen. Having to deal with any of what you are making her feel right now would involve rejecting everything she has built her life on. It’s far too late to turn back.
You dry your eyes and sniffle. You decide the last words you will ever say to this person for the rest of your life.
“That day I disappeared forever, right as I was about to leave our home I saw you sitting in the living room’s sofa as you were reading a book. I didn’t say anything to you, because I didn’t want to handle you looking at me with disappointment, nor have to face my own resentment.”
You walk up to her, hold the back of her head and kiss her on the forehead.
“Goodbye”, you say.
You turn around and walk without looking back. It takes a couple of minutes for your throat to loosen up, for your lungs to hold the air properly, and for the tears to stop dripping from your chin.

The closer you get to your high school, the fewer people you come across. In your real life you never returned to this place, you never faced all those people who turned their backs on you. As you stand in front of the fence that surrounds the school grounds, you don’t spot a single soul moving behind the windows, nor can you hear anything but the wind and the distant traffic. After you enter the high school you walk by the lockers, then your steps echo down the hallway. You walk up the stairs to the second floor and go down the current hallway towards your class, although you need to follow the signboards that show the class numbers.
You stand in front of the door to what used to be your high school classroom. You hold the handle and close your eyes. You can’t hear a thing beyond your breathing. Maybe this witch-created simulation is hiding that whenever you decide to open the door you will face all of the half-remembered classmates that you never got to know properly beyond how they rejected you. You picture them all around you, the same way you did in the previous world whenever you couldn’t force yourself to return to your classes. Those faces and so many others in your life that regarded you the same way. In the theater of your mind you see them glaring at you, laughing at you, criticizing you, questioning your very existence, and everything else that in the past used to make you wish you could run to a dark room, crouch against a corner and see nothing but the enclosed space in front of you. Now you let the tide of foul emotions wash over you as you hold on tight, and when you open your eyes again you find yourself standing on your own two feet.
You open the door. Leaning against one of the tables close to the windows is a girl of around twenty years old. Her skin is strikingly white, close to the color of snow, but her long hair, which comes down to her waist, is even whiter. She’s wearing the female uniform: a short sleeved shirt with a navy blue bowtie, a blue plaid skirt that hugs her slender waist and that exposes half of her white thighs, and knee-high black socks. When you hold her gaze, her eyes smite you: the irises are black, and the pupils are white, vertical slits.
The girl smiles as if she couldn’t wait to welcome you. She speaks with a self-assured, intelligent voice.
“Congratulations, Subaru. You passed the first trial.”
When your bewilderment clears out, you take a step forward.
“Who are–“
The girl narrows her eyes, and as if she had just shot you in the head, you feel something open in it. A flood of moments spreads through the confines of your mind as if demanding you to revisit them. You stood at the base of a hillock as you looked up at this girl. You drank her tea mixed with her saliva. You annoyed the hell out of her until you made her cry. She granted you the qualification to participate in the trials.
“Echidna”, you say.
She smiles.
“Yes, that’s the one. The devious witch who prepared these trials a long, long time ago. What did you think of your experience, Subaru?”
You are trying hard not to look below Echidna’s eyes at the way her clothes complement that beautiful, pale body.
“First, let me tell you that you look fucking amazing in that high school outfit, Echidna. I mean, I don’t think I have retained half of the words you just said to me.”
She wields a charming smile that her intense, black gaze doesn’t blunt. Echidna steps forward and then spins around a couple of times, making her skirt twirl. You feel the tingles, and you swallow to recover yourself.
“Echidna, you old witch… That simulation was something else. I knew you were powerful, but shit, that was some god-level stuff.”
“I’m glad you appreciate it. I will let you in on a secret, Subaru. It just happens that every contestant unknowingly grants me access to all of their memories, from their first recollections as a baby to the moment when they entered the antechamber at our tomb and passed out. So I know plenty of things now. Starting with the fact that you are a very interesting man, Natsuki Subaru. The most fascinating news in hundreds of years, in fact.”
She’s breathing deeply while staring at you as if you are a scientific breakthrough. It makes you shudder, but not entirely uncomfortable. It feels as if she wants you, your entire being, without discarding a single atom.
“I just realized the obvious”, you say, startled. “You have built this very room, and I doubt there’s any school resembling my old one in your fantasy world, so that means…”
“I will correct you, Subaru, on behalf of the people of this world. You keep referring to it as a ‘fantasy’ world, but it only serves to regard its inhabitants as mere characters in a play. I agree that this reality resembles to a significant extent the imaginings of artists from your previous world, but that’s one of the miracles of the multiverse. You need to give us some credit. We have been surviving in this reality of ours, which is now and for the foreseeable future yours as well, for a long time.”
You must have stood there with your mouth hanging open for a while, merely staring into this witch’s black eyes. You have tried for as long as you’ve wandered around in this kingdom to get through people’s heads that you came from a completely different world, and here is a person to whom you don’t have to explain anything. She has seen every memory of yours, she says. You swallow.
“You mean you know that I have died, and that when that happens…”
Echidna tilts her head and slightly raises an eyebrow as if amused because you are using a wildly imprecise euphemism.
“That you have died? How many times did you jump from that roof so that weirdly shaped fence could behead you? Do you want me to tell you the exact number? All because you wanted to repeat those two days again, sometimes just to get drunk with the same wines you had stolen in the previous iteration. Or to have sex again and again with your beloved. You have some wild ways of putting a witch’s blessing to use.”
Echidna has seen every moment of your life like you did through your eyes. She has witnessed all the deranged shit you have done, and she doesn’t just stay there, leaning against that table, she’s staring at you as if she accepts it all. No, as if she wants it all.
Overwhelmed, you rub your eyes for a moment, trying to digest the news at breakneck pace.
“You know, Echidna, other people must freak out when you tell them that you know everything about their lives, far beyond the extent than any other regular being would be able to. But I’m relieved. It’s been so hard to get people to understand. Like that one time I had to argue with what seemed like everybody in my new life because I needed to kill myself, and they wouldn’t leave me the fuck alone. But you get it, don’t you?”
“I do. You are a god-like being’s mortal favorite, and you have unlimited lives to spend.”
Your mouth is dry, and it’s getting hard to get a handle on the vortex of thoughts swirling in your mind. You can’t possibly grasp all the consequences of this unimaginably powerful dead witch knowing every single detail of your life. Still, the relief is making you want to choke up.
“You know, if I had imagined this moment, when I would face someone who would properly understand the shit I have gone through, I would have thought it would be more climactic.”
“Yes, I know what you mean. But that’s life, isn’t it? It rarely lives up to our expectations.” She gives you a smile that would make any man shiver. “You hold an unimaginable power that has gone relatively untapped. You can do anything, have everything. You escaped death in so many occasions, you may as well be considered immortal.”
“Well, what do you, a super powerful dead witch from the pre-Apocalyptic world, think about this whole shit? Is it as wild for you as it is for me?”
Echidna looks to the side to think about it. From your previous interaction with this witch you remember her almost putting on airs, or desperately trying to prove herself, as a self-described repository of knowledge of the world, after four hundred years of isolation had stolen her access to pretty much anything else but her dream-like grass world. Now she seems relaxed.
“During our first interaction you were as rude and disrespectful as nobody had been to me in my long existence. Worse yet, you touched me right where it hurts the most. But you were right, I didn’t have a clue. For starters, I now understand that you are as rude and disrespectful to everyone you come across, so I can’t feel special about that.”
“I’m not sure if I can deny that characterization of myself, but I had to figure out if Emilia was fine, and you were trying to delay me by involving me in your fetishes. You know, that whole making a stranger drink your saliva stuff. Which is fine, I mean. It’s just that it felt I was short on time at the moment. I’m okay with you now, you seem pretty cool.”
Echidna puts her hand on her mouth and laughs softly.
“Why, thank you. And now you understand me as well, what I am capable of, so we are even.”
“What’s your deal, Echidna? That Witch of Envy traitor just repeats ‘I love you’ over and over and sends me to the past, but you seem much more put together for a four hundred years old dead lady.”
She holds your gaze intensely, as if pleased that you want to know.
“It’s simple. I’m the Witch of Greed, and I want everything. Predictable, isn’t it?”
“Is it because you have to live up to that moniker?”
Echidna laughs, sounding as if she’s having the time of her life.
“Amusing a dead witch who has been trapped for hundreds of years… You are one peculiar man. Of course, I know that you aren’t aware, but in this world of ours when people are born there is a chance that they will be blessed or cursed, depending on how you see it, with certain incarnations of concepts. It just happened that I was granted the maximum exponent of greed. I don’t have to force myself to live up to anything, the same as Daphne, the Witch of Gluttony, cannot help but feel an all-consuming hunger every moment of her life. Such are the burdens we bear.”
“I see… But you didn’t want the clown’s money when I offered it.”
She dismisses the suggestion by waving a hand.
“There’s nothing more dull and empty than money. No, I want a taste of every fact of this world, or I guess now of every world, as well as of all the experiences and emotions. Every single possible one. I feel a curiosity that cannot be quenched, I cannot help but needing more and more. And I also want all the time in the world to be able to achieve this impossible goal.”
“That’s nuts, but surprisingly reasonable. Someone did mention to me that you were working on becoming immortal.”
Echidna lowers her head and sighs.
“I was researching a way to live forever, but I ended up dying. That’s like the opposite result of what I intended.”
“Because that Satella bitch killed you, didn’t she?”
She looks up at you again. She tightens her lips and nods slowly.
“The Witch of Envy, more appropriately. But yes, she ruined everything. She caused us to be thrown into this prison that we might never be able to escape. Can you imagine how hard it is to remain sane in such circumstances, no matter how powerful we are?”
“You seem… pretty sane, despite the whole drooling into people’s tea thing.”
“I’m really not, but I’ve had a long time to come to terms with my madness. However, I believe we have that in common, don’t we, Subaru?”
“Yeah, I suppose we do.”
You are feeling it bad. You hate that this person who knows everything about you, and whose words you are interested in hearing, has been jailed as a ghost in this ruin for hundreds of years. You want to save her. But she’s a witch of old, considered one of the most dangerous people to ever exist, and she herself said that she wants everything. You have no clue what means she would use to satisfy such a relentless need. Are you now like those stupid women who write to serial killers in prison and then they want to figure out a way to break them out?
“We got so derailed from my original question”, Echidna says. “I want to know how you feel about your experience with the first part of my trials. That’s the whole point of all this.”
“Ah, yes!”
You walk up to Echidna and put your hands on the dead witch’s shoulders. She’s surprised for a brief moment, but then she looks up at you with her black eyes as if this is just the kind of stuff you do.
“You should patent this shit, Echidna, or set up a clinic or something”, you say excitedly. “You must have learned about therapists and psychiatrists from my memories of my previous world, right? You could make a killing. Wait, you aren’t interested in money. But you would be able to get the memories of everyone you helped, and in turn they would make psychological breakthroughs, work through their traumas. It would help a lot of people.”
Echidna’s eyes widen a bit. She looks as if she hasn’t been taken seriously by anyone for quite some time.
“That… does sound nice. But I’m dead, Subaru. My range of operations is seriously constrained.”
“Yeah… I keep forgetting that you are a ghost.”
You feel sad. Then you stop resting your hands on the witch’s shoulders to instead hug her tightly, lifting her off the ground and spinning for a bit. Echidna lets out a few weird noises between incredulity and amusement. The old witch’s smell reminds you of an antique shop, but the slender body pressed against your own feels as young and solid as they come. When you finally lower her to the floor and you pull away from her, she has blushed, and is having trouble holding your gaze. You stare at her intently.
“My lovely yet terrifying Echidna, even though those weren’t my real parents, and that you had ulterior motives for putting me through that simulation, I managed to say to those two past owners of mine everything I would have never been able to otherwise. I got closure. I feel cleansed, a weight lifted off my shoulders and all that. And it’s thanks to you, old broad. I could kiss you.”
“Now now, calm down!”, Echidna shoots back, her cheeks puffed and red. “The trial was supposed to be difficult, it should require a significant change in your perspective, but you cleared it almost immediately. Also, you are still holding my waist. You are being too inconsiderate with a maiden trapped for hundreds of years.”
You stop touching the witch, and step back.
“I would apologize, but not only I don’t feel like doing so, you don’t look as if you disliked it.”
“A maiden’s body is still a maiden’s body, no matter how long it has been trapped. It responds to stimulus. You are a stimulus.”
“Well, I’m glad I got to stimulate that dried up body of yours. Regarding your comment, though, that test came way too late for me. I have already gone through so much shit in this current world that I had to figure those things out on my own to keep pushing forward. So for me it was mostly a nice way to see my parents for the last time.”
Echidna swallows and tidies up her clothes.
“You are right, I vastly underestimated you. It just means I’ll need to make a more interesting maze for the next segment of your trial.”
You smile.
“A maze, huh? And I’m the rat that would run through it? Is that your perspective?”
“That is one way to describe it, yes. Every interaction with the world and its inhabitants is an experiment, and I’m eager to see the results. It just happens that when you push people to the limits, they produce the most interesting results.”
“I’m not sure how to feel about that, but I’m afraid I won’t see your next maze, dear old witch.”
She frowns slightly, and her smile drops.
“Your people are trapped in Sanctuary. You need to break the barrier. I wouldn’t be able to lift it if I wanted to make things that easy, because in my current circumstances I don’t have the means to undo what I set up those hundreds of years ago.”
“Someone needs to break the barrier, for sure. But Emilia should be the one to do it. You saw her in my memories. She needs this for her aspirations, and to feel better about herself. A bit of therapy would help. Don’t worry, I will visit you again for sure, you old bones.”
Echidna seems frustrated.
“You are way too casual about how often you will be able to meet me.”
“What, you don’t want to?”
“The requirements for a living being to access the death-dream get more and more harsher. It might easily come to a point in which you won’t be able to do so again.”
Your mood sours. It seems you really want to keep seeing this black eyed loon, no matter how much she drools in your beverages.
“Your mind could become seriously unstable”, she continues. “As a practical immortal, Subaru, it all goes to waste if your mind breaks. I will do my best to keep you stable, but even I can’t promise anything.”
“Then I’ll look forward to drinking more of your spit.”
Echidna blushes even harder, a huge contrast with her snow white skin, and looks around as if trying to compose herself. She clears her throat.
“You have unsettled this maiden a bit too much for the moment, Subaru. I will bid you farewell until the next time. I hope you decide to attempt the next segment of the trial, though.”
The edges of the classroom are fraying quickly, and the surrounding furniture is vanishing.
“Probably not, Witch of Greed”, you say with a smile. “Emilia needs this, I think. I have always sensed that she has some tough shit to work through regarding whatever happened in her childhood. This might be her only opportunity, and I certainly cannot help her at all. So she’ll be the one to lift the barrier.”
The world has already gone white. You are both floating in nothingness, and even the witch herself begins to fade away. She gives you a look between frustration and apprehension.
“I wouldn’t count on it. Until next time, Natsuki Subaru.”

You are lying on the flat stones of the antechamber, resting on your forearms, and when you try to sit up and breathe, you cough for a while as if you had been breathing dust. Your mouth is dry, and you swallow to produce enough saliva again.
You are dazed as if you just woke up from a nap that ended suddenly. While you rub your eyes, you try to gather your thoughts. You went through the trial, you remember that well. You met a simulation of your parents, and although you get the sense that it should have traumatized you, you feel lighter, calmer. For a nasty trial set up by some witch of old, it was oddly beneficial to your mental health. How did it end, though? You recall standing in front of the door to your old classroom. You grabbed the handle, opened the door, and… nothing, you returned to reality. For some reason you are sure that you have passed the first trial, even though nothing in the simulation confirmed it.
Emilia! You remember that she must be here as well. She’s lying where you last saw her, near the center of the antechamber, lying face down as if she almost avoided faceplanting. You call out her name and run to her side. You hold her in your arms to sit her up. Her face still twitches as if she’s suffering through a nightmare, but that twelve year old elf who is somehow a grandmother had said that Emilia’s trial must have ended. Should your risk waking her up?
You can’t deal with the idea that she’s experiencing a nightmare and yet you will just wait for her to snap out of it. You shake her while repeating her name, and she finally opens her eyes. She stares at you with a blank expression. Midway through saying your name, it’s as if some horrible image flashed in her mind. Emilia grimaces, her cheeks twitch, and she shrieks so loud that it makes you hunch over and clench your teeth.
“Emilia, it’s alright! You are awake now! You don’t–…”
The half-elf holds her head with both hands as if she fears it would burst otherwise. She tries to roll around in your arms, but you hold her tight.
“I-I didn’t want to!”, she says with a panicked voice. “It wasn’t me! P-Please don’t leave me! No! Don’t leave me alone! I didn’t mean it!”
Your heart is pumping hard, and the warmth has escaped your body. Emilia doesn’t seem to understand that you are there, or that she’s awake. You hold her tighter, resting her face on your cheek, and she keeps pleading to some unseen ghost for a minute and a half until she passes out.


Note from December 2020:

Another emotionally taxing scene. Damn you Echidna, who is going through the trials here? Also, I just want to have that old witch around at all times.

Roleplaying through “Re:Zero” with the GPT-3 story generator (Part 46)

This entry covers part of the tenth volume of the original “Re:Zero” novels.

In the previous entry, Emilia kissed the protagonist without his consent, and he went on to threaten a bunch of people with murder.

GPT-3 is a cutting-edge language processing algorithm used in the premium version of the online site AI Dungeon.


Most of the people who matter in Sanctuary have gathered in the clearing right in front of the ancient witches’ tomb. Ryuzu repeated a few times that they consider each attempt to pass the trials a ceremony, so they brought some torches to line the path to the stone steps. The wavering light of the fire, under the chilly breeze, isn’t enough to light up the enormous entrance on the raised platform, and the combination of moonlight and starlight doesn’t make that stone mouth any less black.
You are standing next to Emilia at the base of the worn steps. Garfiel and his conspicuously young grandma are hanging out on one side of the path to the tomb’s entrance, and Ram and Otto on the opposite. Now it depends on when Emilia will decide to finally ascend the stone steps and venture into the cold darkness of a tomb that hosts the spirits of the worst witches to ever exist.
You want to put your hands on Emilia’s shoulders, and even hug her to make her feel better, but you realize that the presence of Roswaal’s dog, Ram, as well as Otto, who wants a piece of the half-elf, and Garfiel, who might at least mock you for displaying tenderness, make you contain yourself. This lovely girl who can shoot ice shards has already declared her love to you, and her sweet tongue caressed yours. You want nothing but the best for her.
Emilia turns to Garfiel, who was examining his long nails.
“Garfiel, don’t I need a torch to walk into the tomb?”
“Nah, the corridor will light up green. Just keep walkin’ straight and ya’ll hit the door of the chamber of trials. Could do it with yer eyes closed. The chamber is always lighted at night too, some magical blue glow or somethin’. Detail from that Echidna I reckon.”
Emilia turns her attention towards Ryuzu, who is standing there in her appropriately comfortable coat up to her mouth, and holding her staff-like cane.
“Have I forgotten anything, miss Ryuzu? Can I go in?”
“Yes, yes. You’re all set, dear. Good luck.”
Emilia tries to smile, but she’s too nervous even to pretend. She turns to you. You nod while corresponding her gaze with a calm one, although you are distraught that you won’t be able to help her inside of whatever kind of dream a four hundred year old witch has set up for the contestants.
“The traps won’t trigger for you, you know that already”, you say quietly. “You can do anything you set your mind to, Emilia. Quit stalling.”
She swallows, then nods.
“Right…”
She begins to walk up the stone stairs. Otto cheers her loudly, but he stops when Ram, standing close, shoots him a look of annoyance. Before Emilia ventures into the blackness of the enormous entrance, she looks back at all of you. You hold your hand up and she imitates you, but she looks somewhat gloomy. A few seconds after she enters the tomb, when your heart was beating louder, a bright, emerald-like glow escapes from the tomb’s entrance as if someone had turned on the lights.
“She did it!”, Otto says, “She solved it! Miss Emilia is the smartest and prettiest girl in the whole world!”
“Haah!? Ya get louder and dumber the more excited, small-timer”, Garfiel says, more amused than annoyed. “The green light is the tomb’s way of sayin’ that the hot princess is qualified, that’s all. She hasn’t had time to reach the chamber even!”
“You can relax for now”, Ryuzu says. “We already knew that the tomb wouldn’t reject her as violently as it did lord Roswaal, but now that we have the definitive confirmation, we can only wait for lady Emilia to finish, regardless of whether she passes the trials or not.”
You nod, and sit down on a stone step. It’s been a long day. You have wanted to sleep for a couple of hours. However, even if Emilia fails, you’ll go straight to meet with the clown. You can’t imagine how that conversation is going to play out. You haven’t seen him in so long that the lord must have turned into a sort of absent god for your deranged mind. You need to clear your thoughts.
A few minutes later, while Ram is speaking with Ryuzu far enough that you can’t hear their conversation, you notice that Garfiel, sitting on the grass but leaning against the lowest stone step, is stealing glances at the senior servant’s slender legs. Under the skirt of her outfit, her white stockings hug her flesh in a very appetizing way. Ram, as well as your girlfriend, have longer legs than their torso, which doesn’t hurt when them legs look so good. No, stop looking, you think. That’s your sister-in-law. Besides, you only need to remember Ram’s personality for her body to lose most of its sex-appeal.
You approach Garfiel from the side knowing that it will startle him, as concentrated as he is imagining himself fondling Ram. When you sit on the stone step that he’s leaning against, he turns his head towards you as if you were about to knife him, but he finds you smiling mischievously. Garfiel shifts his weight and shakes his head.
“Damn it, evil eyes! Sneakier than Yagomir Hurui at the siege of Turmedaf fortress! The hell ya want now!?”
“Be quieter. You are going to distract our senior servant, and she’ll stop offering that tasty view.”
“Hah! I’d say that’s a full time job for our eyes! But seriously, wut do ya want?”
“Just that. What, don’t you want to think and talk about Ram?”
“Nope.”
After he responds so quickly without any hesitation, you know that you must be onto something.
“Is that so? Weren’t you licking those thighs of hers in your mind? She’s a pretty, fiery one, our senior servant.”
“Shut it! Damn half-pint. That Ram must be a master when it comes ta cookin’ and servin’. That’s it. And probably the sexiest one in the whole damn world, but her personality sucks!”
“Just your type, though.”
You smile, because Garfiel’s cheeks blush a bit. He then looks away from you as he crosses his arms.
“Ya schemin’ fool. Same as yer lord ain’t ya? Makin’ people feel weird all the time. So what if I like that Ram? Just says I got good taste.”
“Maybe you should tell her then. I mean, she seems so distant. Maybe she just needs a little attention.”
Garfiel’s expression darkens as he turns away from you. He clenches his fists and grits his teeth.
“She’s a servant fer a lord! Look at that pretty outfit. She’s livin’ the royal lifestyle while we’re stuck usin’ the shit leftovers! Are ya here justa make me feel bad, damn half-pint?”
“No harm in dreaming, though”, you say, barely containing yourself from chuckling. “Ram lying next to you on the grass, you stroking that soft pink hair, feeling her fit servant body against you, and as you come closer to her pretty mouth, she whispers the usual sweet nothings. ‘Consider yourself the luckiest man in the world because I agreed to lie next to you for a moment’. ‘You should clean your face more often, your pores are open’. ‘Your mouth smells like rotten meat. Do you ever brush your teeth?’ ‘You should do more exercise. Your body is all flabby’. ‘You call that a dick? I’d have more fun with the handle of a duster’. Thinking about it makes my blood run real hot.”
You stay silent as Garfiel makes a sour face. His expression then turns to one of gloominess.
“Ya damn lightweights must’ve so much fun out there with all them pretty gals, huh? Two girls come in from the world outside and they’re the hottest ever. Them Twelve Brides of Yseld makin’ everyone envious. Ya laugh at us because we must look like barn animals to ya damn noble-born, or noble-born look-alikes.”
You rest your face on your palm.
“You think too low of yourself, Garfiel. You are the strongest man alive. You just have to work on your approach. But I assure you that both Ram and Emilia are exceptions. If most girls out there were as hot as these two, we wouldn’t get anything done. Most men would lack enough blood in their brains. Truth is, the clown we have for a lord is a shady bastard, but he knows how to choose his servants. All of them gorgeous and dangerous.”
“Huh, not just ladies, but dangerous men as well”, Garfiel mutters. “Yer as weird and troublesome as they come.”
“You didn’t let me finish my point, though. Frederica is one of Roswaal’s chosen servants as well. I don’t know when was the last time you saw her, but man, she’s grown into one sexy lioness. When she offered me to wrestle for a bit, I almost fainted. Just imagining that blonde vixen pinning me down, pressing her chest against me… Shit, I think I’m getting hard. Don’t look.”
“… Ya know, yer breakin’ my damn brain. Things that come out of yer mouth, talkin’ about ‘Rica like that. If ya don’t want ta die, I don’t know what yer doin’.”
“What? I thought you didn’t care about that broad. Or did you pretend not to care but you actually hope Frederica was here squeezing you tight? Maybe I should return to the mansion and tell her to come over. I’ll reveal how much her bro misses her.”
Garfiel’s nostrils widen, and he snarls at you.
“Go eat a dick or something, will ya? Damn half-pint, things ya do make no sense! Craziest fool I ever met.”
You sigh.
“You know, when you called Roswaal a clown bastard, I thought that you were actually a cool guy. You can tell how much of a shady son of a bitch that lord of mine is.”
“Yer lord’s a fuckin’ creep, just like ya.”
“Yeah, well. We’re both stuck with him. You know, that damn bastard understood that a bad bunch of cultists were working on killing our hot princess, but Roswaal came to your hick town instead of staying home to figure out how to defend our lives. I had to break my back, rent a couple of armies and fight a real creep with multiple invisible arms. Plenty of our villagers were killed while our lord fucked around in your Sanctuary, mainly it seems because you didn’t let him leave.”
“Yeah? An’ what if I didn’t? Ya know, yer a moron fer ‘ssociatin’ with that clown in the first place. Ain’t that the truth? It is, I reckon. Clown’s as bad as they come, I can smell it.”
“As I said, I’m stuck with him.”
“More fool ya. I suggest ya off him an’ take his place, or leave.”
“Leave? Where would I go?”
“Dunno, about as far away as ya can, seems.”
“And leave Emilia, Ram, and all these people who matter? What kind of guy are you, Garfiel, to suggest such a thing? Maybe you are the one who betrayed Frederica, if you don’t understand something that simple.”
He holds his breath, but then shakes his head as if getting angry would play into your hands.
“Ain’t sayin’ I ain’t got regrets of my own, but whut I’m sayin’ is yer on a whole ‘nother level of regret. I’m just glad I ain’t in yer shoes. Sanctuary’s a small world, but it’s just how some like it. Big world out there. Too big, I reckon.”
“Yeah…”
You sigh and continue staring at the stars. You had expected Garfiel to sock you a couple of times during your conversation, but even after he didn’t, you were sure that he would have stood up and left, probably to return to his so called gran. However, he stays leaning against the rock step, not even bothering anymore to look over his shoulder in case you are about to stab him or whatever crazy shit he was imagining you were going to do. This damn idiot has spent his whole life in this dreary place. If there’s something beyond pity, it must be what you are feeling now.
Maybe an hour later the green glow shuts off. Ryuzu walks closer to the line of torches, and all of you imitate her. This must be the point in which the contestant appears at the mouth of the tomb, looking dejected probably, because nobody ever passed the trials. But a couple of minutes later, when Emilia should have been able to walk the distance from the chamber to the exit, nobody has showed up, nor can you hear anyone inside.
“This isn’t good, is it?”, Otto says, nervous. “I mean, I don’t know much about this ceremony or what the trials entail, but my gut tells me this isn’t right!”
“… It isn’t. Whether lady Emilia has passed the trial or not, she should have come out”, Ryuzu, despite her grandmother-like calmness, sounds uncertain. “There isn’t any point in lingering inside. But the trials are known to be emotionally taxing. Maybe we should give her a few more minutes.”
But when five more minutes pass with no sign of her, Ryuzu stares at Garfiel as if urging him to act. The punk stiffens, and looks as if she just ordered him to push his face into a spike.
“Ya kiddin’ me, old hag!? I ain’t gonna run in there! I ain’t gonna step into that place ever again!”
You take a deep breath.
“Well then. Cover me, Otto. I’m going in.”
Otto stutters as you walk by him.
“What are you talking about, Mr. Natsuki!? Cover you with what!? I know you managed to walk into that scary place full of traps once, but you don’t know if it’s going to work again! Maybe the spirit of that Echidna witch got confused the first time!”
“I guess I’m about to find out.”
Someone grabs your arm, which stops you. You had expected it to be Garfiel, because he didn’t want you to ruin the sanctity of the tomb or something, but you find yourself staring at Ram’s determined expression. She narrows her eyes.
“Mr. Suwen is right. You might walk a few steps into the tomb only for the traps to rip you apart. You don’t know what you are doing.”
You shrug and shoot her a look that you hope asks very clearly, ‘what do you care?’.
“In that case, Ram, I hope you stand over my mangled corpse, point at it and laugh.”
Ram is so stunned that despite her frown and the strength of her grasp, she lets you go when you yank your arm from her. You walk past, and she calls out to you.
“You better not die, Barusu. I don’t want to explain to lord Roswaal that I wasn’t able to protect you.”
You wave at her without looking back. You attempt to run up the stone steps only for your quickened breath to explain to you in no uncertain terms that you haven’t trained for this type of activity.
As soon as you find yourself shrouded by the darkness of the entrance, you extend your arms forward to run as far as possible but avoiding hitting your head on the door of the antechamber you are heading towards. A few meters in, the whole passageway lights up with the emerald-like glow that welcomed Emilia, that makes the stone passage look like a jungle exhibit in a zoo. You realize you have stopped in your path, and because you are holding your breath, you hear someone outside, maybe Otto given how loud he’s speaking, saying, ‘it recognized him as qualified’. You stop holding your hands in front of you, because the closed door to the antechamber waits a few dozen meters in front of you, and a slit of water-blue light escapes from under the closed stone door. You figure that this Echidna witch, who apparently set up these trials, had the means to create an automatic door that closes behind the contestant once he or she enters the antechamber. No wonder there’s so little technology in this world, in comparison with your previous home.
You sprint to the antechamber’s door and push it open. Emilia is lying on the flat stones, close to the center of the chamber, and she’s lying as if she suddenly fainted, barely avoided to faceplant, and as soon as she touched the flat stones she fell asleep. Her facial features are twitching like she’s suffering through a nightmare.
You were walking up to her to shake her, but someone speaks in your head. It’s your own voice, saying words you hadn’t thought.
“Behold the ungraspable past.”
You are overwhelmed with a sudden exhaustion that wins against your attempts to keep your eyes open. Your legs wobble, then fail to hold your weight. You find yourself falling to the flat stones, and only manage to break your fall with your forearms. A darkness envelops you.

Someone pulls your sheets, and both the sudden movement as well as the loss of your bed’s warmth wake you up. Then you feel two powerful legs tangling yours in a wrestling hold, and the pain of the twisted tendons and muscles in your legs makes you want to groan and tap out.
Dad stares down at you as he smirks, holding you immobile seemingly without effort.
“Time to wake up!”
“You should respect clock alarms!”, you shout with a raspy voice. “They do their job well enough! I don’t need this pain in my lower half to start a whole new day!”
“Huh. Yeah, right. You’re just lazy!”
“How? I’m already awake, aren’t I?”
He chuckles as he releases his hold on your legs. You fling your limbs to a more comfortable position. You glance at the window: must be around seven in the morning. They usually just left you alone until you chose to walk down to the kitchen.
Dad stands near your bed while holding his hands on his waist. As usual at this time of the morning, he’s naked from the waist up, showing off the athletic torso of someone who was already a star athlete in high school.
“C’mon, son! Your mother has prepared your breakfast already. It’s a whole new day full of opportunities!”
You rub your eyes and drag yourself to the edge of the bed. You don’t even want to rest your feet on the ground. You just want to lie down again, and for the mercy of another series of dreams to save you from starting yet again. But these people won’t let you, as usual.
“You should put on a shirt when you enter people’s bedrooms, dad! How many times do I need to tell you? Do you want to put weird, uncomfortable ideas in my head?”
Dad laughs, taking you as seriously as he’s always done. You are his little boy, and he is the omnipotent man who can do no wrong. Without needing to repeat that your breakfast is ready, he moonwalks out of your room. You hear him walking down fast the steps to the first floor.
You sigh, then rest your forearms on your thighs. Another day, huh? Gotta struggle through another twenty four hours of this life, of people expecting things from you, of a whole world waiting outside when you can barely step out of your parents’ front door without your chest tightening and your lungs making it harder for you to breathe. It would have been far better to remain unconscious, to have slept for some hours more. For days. For your entire life.
You walk down the steps towards the kitchen. Before you turn the corner you know you are going to find your dad and your mom sitting at the table, and your breakfast waiting in front of your seat. You take a deep breath. As usual, you’ll need to keep your head down. You can’t look at either of them in the face. You are not worthy of doing so, and you don’t want to see how they regard you, whether it is with pity or with disappointment. You don’t want to face any human being.
As you shuffle to your seat you realize that a mountain of peas awaits you instead of rice and fermented soybeans. The day just keeps getting worse. You sit down.
“I told you I can’t stand peas, mom. Hell, dad’s gotten his usual rice! What’s the deal?”
Mom is looking down at her bowl, idly stirring the rice with her spoon.
“Peas are good for you, a good source of nutrients”, she says matter-of-factly. “They prevent diabetes, heart disease and arthritis.”
“Am I not a bit too young to worry about any of those diseases!? At the moment it’s far worse that my stomach churns at the thought of filling it with these nasty green pellets of vegetable crap.”
“Excellent sources of dietary fiber and nutrients such as folate and potassium, Subaru”, mom adds. “Part of a balanced diet. Will give you energy.”
“It’s because he’s been playing too much, isn’t it?”, dad interjects. “All that running around and falling and whatnot. He needs more energy!”
You feel yourself going red as you hear your dad chuckling beside you.
“Yeah, I need a whole lot of energy to spend another day in my room reading manga and playing videogames”, you say with a somber voice.
Mom looks at you and frowns with disapproval. You only manage to hold her gaze for a moment, before you look down again. You feel unworthy of looking at anyone in the face, of occupying any space. You are just bothering everybody, making them question why you would be there to begin with.
“You should expend the extra energy going to school, then”, mom says calmly. “Otherwise you’ll go to bed in the middle of the night, as usual.”
“I’m not a kid anymore, I don’t need to go to school.”
You regret your words as soon as they come out of your mouth.
“You are too much of a grown up for high school, but not to work. Something isn’t right there, is it?”, mom asks. “A whole life of work will await you after these three years of high school, dear.”
You feel the usual burn in your chest. You want to grumble, you want to argue, you want to yell at them to leave you the fuck alone. Did I ask for any of this?, you think. I was so happy not being alive before you dragged me into this world. No, I wasn’t happy, I didn’t feel anything, I didn’t exist. It was so great. Now I’m thrown into this slavery in which I need to attend classes full of people who will look at me like I’m a complete idiot, a crazy person, someone to look away from because I keep embarrassing and annoying everybody. It’s torture. Is this truly what life ought to be? And then what, find a job in some office in which people will behave like in school, but just with older bodies. More responsibilities that I can’t deal with, more stress, more cliques that will never accept me, just so I can pay for a tiny apartment that will house my tired bones when I come back from work at night. This is the life you both condemned me to, mom and dad. Thank you so much.
You don’t look up at either of them again. You gobble down the disgusting peas trying to avoid tasting them, and once you finish enough of the bowl so mom won’t complain, you drink your tea in one gulp. You stand up.
“I’m going to my room”, you say with a hollow voice.
As you walk away from the kitchen towards the stairs, you can feel mom and dad’s gazes burning your back. Although they know that you won’t go to school today either, you don’t know if they’ll attempt to convince you or drag you somehow. You’ll need to be on guard, but it’s not like you can even avoid them entering your bedroom after they took the bolt out. Thinking you could hurt yourself, they said. That you were looking way too gloomy.
When you reach your bedroom and close the door behind your back, you take a deep breath and feel your anxiety lessening, although you know it won’t go away entirely. Never does. You sit on the edge of your bed and rub your eyes.
Hurt yourself, they said. And if you did, so what? It’s your life, they don’t own it. And you are a coward for not hurting yourself further. Those were cries for help. They shouldn’t have even had the chance to stop you, and if you were serious you would have done so. You should have ventured into that wide world out there, found some tall cliff and jumped headfirst. Just the thought of it is exhilarating. The moment that approaching ground crushed your brains, all this pain would cease. No more anxiety, no more dreading the future, no more living as if you are at the mouth of a long, darkened corridor that only leads to more blackness and loneliness and pain. Who would want any of it? Why should I want to struggle through it? There’s nothing out there waiting for me, nobody who would care. They all laugh at me, and I can’t understand them at all. I try to make them like me, but they just turn their backs. It wasn’t meant to be from the beginning. I’m just defective. I wasn’t built right. And it’s those two idiots’ fault. If they hadn’t thought, ‘hey, let’s bring an innocent soul into this horrible world so he can suffer through decades of this shit’, I wouldn’t have to feel this pain rotting me inside.
You end up as always at this hour: sitting on the floor while leaning against your bed and looking up at the clock that hangs on the opposite wall. One of those classical round clocks, cheap ones made in China. You are supposed to take a shower, dress yourself, grab your backpack and leave for school. The hands of the clock move from seven and a half forwards, second by second, minute by minute, as they approach eight, the moment you need to be in class. Your heart beats so loud it squeezes your throat. You feel light-headed, and the edges of your vision get filled with noise as if not enough blood is reaching your brain. You are looking at yourself from above. This isn’t your body anymore. You aren’t here, you are somewhere without anxiety, without pain, without this neverending dread. You feel dead, because you are supposed to be dead. This isn’t real, none of this is real.
Today wasn’t going to be it. Despite the piercing pain in your heart, you know you won’t find the strength. And it’s so hard to find the strength for something you have no wish to do. Why expose yourself voluntarily to shame, to ridicule, to anxiety? I can just stay here, can’t I? Is it so bad to spend your days in your bedroom, where nobody can bother you? There’s always more manga to read, and those wonderful stories will take you away from this miserable life. While they last, they will make you feel that things could be better if you were someone else, if you hadn’t been born to fail.
The hands on the clock move until you only have ten minutes to grab your shit and run like a madman to school. C’mon, Subaru. You can make it. Just dress yourself with some pants and a shirt, put on your shoes, grab your backback and run like hell. You just have to sit in your assigned seat in class. Maybe they won’t ask you questions. You don’t even have to look at the people that surround you. If they talk to you, you can ignore them. Just run there. It should get easier, mom says. Just pretend to be normal, and it will eventually become second nature. Reject all those defective parts of yourself that make you different from everyone around you. Whenever those impulses reach your brain, yell at them, push them down, lock them up in the abyss of yourself like the monsters that they are. But you are filled with those impulses, you can’t keep up. It’s a constant struggle. It’s so exhausting. Everything you feel is wrong. You should be like those people around you. You should be normal.
The hands of the clock move past eight. It’s too late. You can’t come late in your first day back, that would be ridiculous! You can’t go to school today either. It can’t be helped.
You let yourself fall to the carpeted floor and lay there. Your heart rate is lowering. Your lungs want to hold the air. You can rest for a bit. A few minutes later you’ll put on your earbuds, lie in bed and listen to music for a good while. You won’t have to think about your life, just feel that beautiful music made by people who have talent.
But they don’t want to leave you alone. It must be around nine and a half when you hear someone’s muffled voice over the music pouring into your ears. You lift your forearm from your eyes and look towards the door. Dad is standing there, and his mouth is moving. At least he’s put on a shirt.
You take a deep breath and clench your teeth, and when you feel that you will be able to speak without shouting, you yank the earbuds out.
“The hell you want, dad?”
He frowns at you.
“What did you say?”
“I said what the hell do you want, dad?”
“Shouldn’t it be something like, ‘did you want something from me, dear dad’? You don’t need to sound like a punk, do you?”
“Why are you saying that like it’s a bad thing? I’d think you, of all people, wouldn’t want me to start sounding like some stuck up rich kid.”
He sighs at that remark, but then motions for you to follow him.
“C’mon, get up, get dressed. We are going out for a walk.”
Your nostrils widen. Why don’t they leave you alone? Does everyone need to make your life harder, make everything more painful? Just leave me the fuck alone! Is it so hard, truly? Can’t you just forget that I exist?
“I don’t want to go out anywhere, dad”, you say with a thin voice.
“Yeah, some news. I’m not asking, Subaru. Get up. We’ll get some fresh air, talk for a bit.”
You obey, of course. It’s his house, and you know that if you refuse they’ll just keep giving you shit. You just need to give up a bit so they end up thinking they can’t possibly bother again you until some time has passed.
A few minutes later you are walking around the neighborhood. Dad is guiding you somewhere, and although you want to walk a few steps behind him, he makes a point of waiting until you both end up walking side by side. You walk through the path that runs along the riverbank, and at this hour you only come across people on their bikes, or older people walking their dogs. People your age are wasting their youth in school.
Quite a few people recognize your dad and greet him cheerfully. Maybe they know him from when he used to play sports, or from his job as a salesman. You don’t care who these people are, you just try to stand far enough from your dad that they aren’t so inclined to mention you or bring up your presence. Just ignore me, you think. Pretend I’m invisible.
One of the people that stop dad doesn’t get the hint. It’s an older guy in his late fifties, balding and with a carefree smile pasted on his face.
“Is this your son, Kenichi?”, he asks to your dad while pointing at you. “He’s grown so much, hasn’t he? I remember him from when he was a kid, running around with his friends, causing all kinds of mischief.”
“Yeah, that’s our Subaru. Always the joker.”
The guy keeps looking at you even though you are avoiding his gaze. Get the hint, old man!
“Ah, but at this hour, shouldn’t you be at school?”, the guy asks. “High school at this age, right?”
Dad scratches the back of his head, although he’s smiling.
“He’s at that age, that’s right, at which he doesn’t feel like going to school. We are working on that.”
“I’m going to be a big shot and not need to go through that hassle”, you attempt to reply camly, but it comes out whiny.
“Oh, of course! You have your dad’s genes, so you’ll probably win some competitions. Are you playing at any of the local teams?”
Although you want nothing more than to yell at the old guy to leave you the fuck alone, you stare at him.
“No, it seems that dad’s genes were wasted on me. I don’t have any talent, like at all. I’m completely worthless.”
The old guy’s face falls, but in a couple of seconds he just nods and smiles amicably as if you are bothering him for failing to respond in the way he had expected you to.
“Ah, you are joking. You are Kenichi’s son after all.”
You snort, and although you intended to seem defiant, you end up hanging your head low, shoving your hands on your pockets and walking further in the direction you were following before this old man bothered you. You hear your dad excusing you and then bidding the guy farewell.
You both end up in a large public park. Dad tells you to sit on a bench. The closest person is a housewife-looking woman walking her dog almost a hundred meters away. Dad comes with a couple of sodas, and after he sits down next to you, at least you enjoy the drink’s taste in peace for a minute or so, until dad brings himself to start bothering you.
“I wanted to have a serious conversation with you away from your mom. You know, talking man to man, or man to sort of man.”
“Very funny, dad”, you answer, annoyed. “Talk about what?”
“I know things have been stressful for you lately. So, you don’t have to say anything, but I’m just going to say a few things. I’m not telling you this because I’m your father, but as your friend.”
“Ah, we are doing the whole thing of you pretending to be my buddy instead of someone I have to obey because you produced my existence, and I live under your roof?”
Dad laughs.
“Well, you can see it that way if it pleases you.” He clears his throat and continues. “But listen, you know that you are stuck. I can’t push you to attend all of your classes all the time, because I would be a huge hypocrite. I used to ditch some classes to go have fun or train, or go after some girls other than your mom. Because I didn’t know your mom then, that is.”
“I don’t want to hear about you pursuing girls, dad! That’s horrifying.”
Dad puts on a silly grin.
“Well, those girls didn’t find it horrifying. I used to have so much action back in the day. You don’t want to go through life without having scored with high school girls!”
“I’m not listening.”
Dad takes a deep breath, and he suddenly sounds serious.
“Anyway, what I’m saying is that there comes a time in everyone’s life where they just need to choose a path for themselves. You are at that crossroad right now. But you don’t want to choose. Staying at home and refusing to even leave the house most of the days isn’t a choice. It’s refusing to face reality.”
“I’m facing reality. I know I’m talentless and weak, and annoying-“
“Stop right there.” Dad cuts you off. “You aren’t either of those things. You are a smart kid, you always were. You just gotta find out what you are good at. It doesn’t need to be what other people want you to do.”
You take a few seconds until you can loosen your throat.
“Maybe I don’t want to do anything anymore, dad. What’s the point?”
He looks at you with worry, even though he tries to smile as if there’s no problem.
“The point is to meet interesting people, to have great experiences, to find some great girl and romance the heck out of her. That’s the good stuff, isn’t it? That’s the whole point of all of this.”
“You don’t have a clue, dad.”
“This is just a bump on the road, pal. Once you start going to school again, you’ll get used to it. You don’t have to like it. I wouldn’t ask that. It’s society pushing these things on us. But getting through high school is what allows you to go to college, to find a good job-“
“And to wake up at six in the morning so I can work at some pointless nonsense and then return home, to the tiny apartment I should call a home, when it’s already dark outside? And romance a girl, huh? Let me tell you, dad, I don’t-…”
An image flashes in front of your eyes, blurrying and whitening the rest of the world. A beautiful girl maybe around eighteen or nineteen years old, with light blue hair, piercing blue eyes and a beautiful smile that lights up your heart. She’s wearing a black and white servant outfit that leaves her slender arms bare, as well as show a generous amount of cleavage. You can feel how much this girl loves you, and that you have loved her as well. No, you still do. More than anyone else in the entire world. You want to be there for her, embrace her, make her happy, spend the rest of your life caring for her, and one day marry her and have lots of children that you both will love so much. But you have never seen her before.
You tremble from head to toe. You hunch over and hide your face in your hands. This isn’t right. This world isn’t right.
“Subaru, what’s wrong?”, dad asks, worried, and he puts his hand on your shoulder. “You went pale all of a sudden.”
The image has already disappeared, but you can’t deny to yourself having seen it. You know her. You know that girl, that one person who loves you more than anything else. Where do you know her from? What’s her name?
You look at your dad’s face as if he could answer your questions. He is frowning with concern and his lips are moving, but you can’t hear him. A sweet female voice full of love sounds on your head instead.
“To be honest, I’m just happy we can be like this, just the two of us.”
Rem. That’s her name, you think. You exist out there. In another world. The world that ended up becoming my home.
You look around the park, at the couple of people walking their dogs. You hear the nearby cars, as well as a traffic light’s sound urging people to cross. Somewhere, someone is laughing. You turn towards your dad. He’s there, yet he isn’t. Your real parents must have seen your last moments in some security camera. There must have been some pointing at that spot of the street in front of the convenience store, where you suddenly popped out of existence. The police must have searched for you, even though they couldn’t have found you anywhere in the world. Your parents must have looked and looked for you. Maybe they are doing so still. You could hardly be any further away.
“Subaru, what are you thinking?”, dad asks cautiously.
You swallow, then you rest your forearms on your thighs.
“Dad… I wanted to be like you.”
He is stunned, as if he had only expected further dejection from you.
“What do you mean…?”
“Everything you did, it seemed as if it came easily. You were great at sports, everyone loved you, could get girls easily… You were living the life, weren’t you? You got married, you bought a nice two-story house, and had a solid job.”
Dad’s eyes cast downward as he starts playing with his wedding ring.
“I had a really happy childhood”, you admitted. “Even though I was a bit of a daydreamer, and didn’t keep the best of friends… I had something to look forward to. That’s what kept pushing me through the days. But as I got into middle school, when I had to push myself, I realized that I couldn’t cut it. I was barely average at sports, and in some sports even below average. Couldn’t run fast. Worse yet, people around me thought I was weird. The stuff that came out of my mouth… It came naturally. It was just the way I am. But it wasn’t normal, that’s what I kept hearing. I realized that I could find friends some other way. I didn’t have any talents, but I could make them laugh. I could bring them amazing adventures. So I kept pushing myself more and more. That one time that I left in the middle of the night so we could bike through town. That other time we broke into the school’s pool. Even stealing. You never found that one out, but plenty of the mangas and stuff I shared with my pals I never paid for. And every time, the stunt had to be bigger, wilder. One day I realized that some of the people I considered my friends weren’t finding it funny anymore. Then some others didn’t either. One day I found myself having to go out into the world, struggle through another day, and when I looked back I was alone. From then on, it never changed. The first days of high school were such an unmitigated disaster. I tried to interact with people the only way I knew how, but I guess I came off as a complete weirdo. The way they looked at me… I heard some girls calling me a creep. And one day I looked up from my desk only to realize that everybody had changed seats to be away from me. Then I understood that I was a pest. I would keep bothering or even hurting whoever I touched. I had tried, but I wasn’t made for it. I didn’t have anything to do in this life. It was a mistake, my whole being alive shouldn’t have happened.”
Dad is looking at the ground, but after a few seconds he stands up and stares at you with an intense expression. He raises one leg as if stretching.
“Dad headbutt!”
He suddenly lowers his leg to knock you on the head with the heel. You fall from the bench. As you try to stand up, you rub the sudden pain in your scalp.
“That’s not even a headbutt! At least learn the proper names of your moves!”
Dad is smiling as if he’s made a breakthrough.
“You were acting out because you couldn’t be as awesome as your dad? You idiot! You don’t have to be like anyone else, you just gotta be you. Was grandpa any good at sports? Do you think that it’s passed down like a family legacy? I just found out I was good at it and, more importantly, I liked it! You just gotta find something you are good at and you enjoy, no matter what it is. And those assholes at school, well, you were a bit of a weirdo, and that’s alright. Once you come back and don’t feel like acting out, you’ll find people who will like you for who you are. And if nobody does, it doesn’t matter. High school will end and you’ll move on to bigger adventures.”
You look at your hand in case there’s blood on it.
“Damn, I’m going to get a headache. Don’t worry, dad, I already found that out by myself. You come a bit too late.”
As you stand there and look at your dad, your throat closes up. He’s truly here, in this park. All of your senses tell you this is real, and yet it’s a temporary world that will cease. You used to have so much trouble even staring at him. You didn’t feel like you deserved to hold anyone’s gaze.
“You don’t have to worry about me. I can go to school, no problem. I’ll return as soon as possible.”
“Even today? You’ll have classes for a few more hours.”
“Sure. I’ll go home and get my backpack.”
Dad looks both happy and stunned, as if he can’t believe the sudden change he sees in you, and yet can’t doubt your sincerity.
“That’s great. You’ll get the hang of it soon enough. And believe me, once high school passes, you’ll feel like a fool for worrying so much about the stuff that went on there, even though any problem felt like the end of the world.”
You give him the thumbs up.
“Besides, I have already done all that stuff about girls and friends. I met some of the coolest people in any world, and most importantly I found the love of my life. She’s gorgeous, sweet, kind, she would let a flying whale eat her to save me, and she loves crushing people’s heads with a customized flail! I would love to introduce her to you both. She’s feeling a bit under the weather at the moment, but I’ll get that sorted out too!”
Dad is confused for a moment, but he pumps his fist and smiles triumphantly.
“She sounds fierce! Are you serious with this girl?”
“Oh yeah, I’ll marry her, have an irresponsible amount of children and everything.”
“Wonderful! Then I look forward to me and your mom living in your house when we get old! After all, you are our only son.”
Your throat closes up, your chest tightens, and a rush of warmth fills your head, blurrying your vision. You try to hold it by clenching your teeth, but you shiver from head to toe, and the tears fall from your eyes and your nose like from open faucets.
“I can’t… I won’t be able to do that, because I won’t see you guys ever again. I’m sorry…”
As you sob noisily and your back convulses, your dad approaches you carefully and pats you on the head.
“You are always a handful.”
A couple of minutes later you have calmed down. Dad is worried, but your genuine smile convinces him that you have left behind whatever came over you.
“I need to go run some errands”, he says. “You are getting your things and going to school then?”
“That’s right”, you say with a smile. “You don’t need to worry about that, I’m telling you. And regarding what we were speaking about, I know damn well I don’t need to be you, or anybody else. I’m Natsuki Subaru, and I’m the only one who can be me. You’d be so proud, dad. I’ll become a knight, confuse people with some magic spells, defeat some more fools, and return my love to life. I’ll be the founder of the Natsuki dynasty, which will become a legend in my new world. I am a bit sad for you, dad, getting stuck in this hick dimension. I’ve grown too large for it.”
Dad closes his eyes and grins.
“That’s a whole load of nonsense, son. I’m glad.”
With that, dad walks away for the last time.


Note from December of 2020:

Credit where credit is due, both the ‘dad headbutt’ as well as Subaru tearing up are moments from the original novel (as well as the anime adaptation), but they were too perfect not to use them in this weird, AI-fueled retelling. And man, this was one emotionally taxing scene to write.