Roleplaying through “Re:Zero” with the GPT-3 story generator (Part 64)

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

In the previous entry we learned that Garfiel is boring, that children shouldn’t be Pokemon trainers, that Echidna is a bad mother, that the protagonist is traumatized after being eaten alive, that the Witch of Greed wants to consume the protagonist, and that the protagonist is waiting to meet the presumably horrifying Daphne, the Witch of Gluttony.


You stare at the empty chair across from you while your heart jumps on your chest and cold sweat beads on the back of your neck. Being so close to Echidna had already made you light-headed, and now you can’t think straight. You realize, for starters, that you are staring at a chair, when Echidna had said that the Witch of Gluttony doesn’t sit. As the hair on your arms stands up, you look around the hillock in case another witch is standing out of sight to give you a scare. You first realize that this isn’t the small hillock you had assumed it to be, in which you would just have to take a few steps to roll downhill. The top of this hillock is much wider, as if Echidna wanted to grant you more room to maneuver.
When your gaze falls back on the chair across you, someone is sitting there. It’s a tanned girl not older than ten, with short, feathered, dark green hair and red eyes. She’s wearing a white sunday dress, and the first instinctive impression you get is of a prim and proper girl from a reputable family. When you return your gaze to her face, she smiles with a wide mouth.
The sudden sight doesn’t compute for your brain, but as you hold her red gaze, you recall the most ominous warning that Echidna had given you: not to look into the Witch of Gluttony’s eyes. You flinch and look down at her side of the table. You must be giving the impression that you want to shrink into the chair. Why is Daphne a child? And why is she so sylphlike? Someone born with the curse of gluttony surely should be as obese as they get.
“I’m glad that I got to meet you, Baru!”, the child says with a carefree, innocent voice.
Her voice dismantles you further. She sounded like the kind of girl who would happily spend hours playing with a doll house. You had imagined that you would face someone who would give some justification for creating those two legendary monsters, the White Whale and the Great Rabbit, but if Daphne is a child who was killed then trapped as a ghost for hundreds of years, surely she must have created those monsters on a whim, as playmates. You feel that you can’t hold her responsible for the damage and uncountable deaths that the White Whale and the Great Rabbit have caused by rampaging for centuries. The problem is that a child shouldn’t have the power to create such monsters in the first place. Was this the reason why Echidna didn’t seem troubled by your fear in anticipation of meeting the Witch of Gluttony? She must have known you were going to meet an innocent child that can’t help but manifesting horrors in the world outside.
Your shoulders slump.
“Ah… I’m happy to meet you as well”, you ask with a nervous voice. “How are you doing?”
On the edge of your vision you notice that she smiles at your words.
“I’m doing better now. Ekidonna always keeps the visitors for herself. That’s not fair, is it? And we get so few!”
Her voice was so hopeful that you begin to feel relieved. She must be a very emotional person, and they usually forgive as they get attached to others easily. Still, you get the sense that you won’t glean any information about how to defeat the Great Rabbit from her.
“Not to disparage the great Echidna or anything,” you say with a conciliatory tone, “but I’m glad I can meet at least another one of you witches. It’s not fair that you ended up locked away for centuries, is it? It must get too lonely.”
The child giggles.
“I’m not lonely at all! I’m always with my friends. But I’m happy that I could meet one more. You are so friendly with Ekidonna too, giving her lots of kisses on her legs. And you wanted to kiss her down there too!” She giggles as if laughing at a silly joke. “That’s where we pee from!”
You gasp. Your gaze darts around in a panic, although you are very careful not to allow yourself to look above the lower half of this child’s face.
“Y-You shouldn’t have seen any of it. Sorry, I didn’t know the other witches were watching. It was supposed to be an intimate moment.”
“It’s fine. I don’t mind. It was very funny! But I’m feeling sad that you won’t look at me. It’s bad manners not to look at the person you are speaking to, you know. Daddy told me that many times. Are you shy?”
You must seem mousy, petrified as you are of holding this child’s gaze. Is this a ploy? Is she feigning innocence, and the moment you look into her red eyes she will be able to eat you, or something more unimaginably horrible?
“You were listening to the long conversation I had with your fascinating friend Echidna, didn’t you? So you know that she warned me about looking into your eyes. I’m merely following her recommendations.”
The child laughs, then shakes her head.
“You think I’m Daphy! That’s so funny! I look nothing like Daphy! But that’s alright, you hadn’t met us before.”
A chill runs through your spine, and you slowly lift your gaze towards the child’s red eyes. She stares back with curious amusement. You stand up from your chair and walk a couple of steps away from the tea table so you can look at this girl fully. She tilts her head, then she turns on her chair to face you. There’s nothing weird about the rest of this stranger beyond the fact that now you know that her white dress has a skirt.
“Who are you then?”, you ask cautiously.
“Me? I’m a wee little girl! A very, very, very little girl!”
Both the presence of a random child here as well as her carefree nature, after having been trapped in this tomb for hundreds of years, unnerves you. You want to retreat. It’s the closest you have felt in this world to being in a haunted house. You are staring at a ghost, who feels to you as incomprehensible and unpredictable as the ones in your old world.
“What’s your name…?”
“Name’s Typhon. That’s the name my parents gave me. Do you like it?”
“It’s… a nice name… Where are your parents, Typhon?”
You don’t know why you asked that. It just doesn’t sit right that this child isn’t at home with her family.
“I ate them.”
She answers so casually that you forget to breathe for a second.
“You… You did… What?!”
“I ate them. I was hungry.”
“But why would you do that?!”
“There’s no cake in this room. The desserts here are terrible!”
You stare at her wide-eyed and with your mouth open. The child can’t hold her serious expression for longer than a couple of seconds, and then she closes her eyes and grins, showing most of her teeth.
“I don’t eat that much! That’s Daphy’s problem! You are so silly, you just believed me!”
You don’t know what to say, but you force yourself to come up with something.
“Yeah, you really got me there, Typhon… Anyway, why did you come to see me? Were you just curious about a stranger entering your tomb?”
“Hmmm… I dunno. I just felt like it. And you aren’t a stranger anymore, Baru! A stranger wouldn’t be so friendly with Ekidonna, would he?”
“Well, I guess not…”
“I like you! But I’m curious to know something… Are you a sinner, Baru?”
You have no idea how to answer. Why is this girl suddenly asking about sins? Who the hell is she? The name Typhon doesn’t mean anything to you. Is she truly one of the witches of old, even though she’s a damn kid? You feel that you need to answer seriously. You have no clue what this child is capable of.
“Let’s see… I have killed a few people, I can’t quite remember how many… I stabbed an Archbishop in the heart and he died some time later, my sword got stuck into a cultist’s head that one time Ricardo launched me against the guy, I… I had my ground dragon murder a pretty teenage girl who was possessed. Those are the things that sound like sins of everything I’ve done, I guess. And I cheated on my Rem…”
“You’re not a very good person, are you?”
You swallow.
“No, I suppose not.”
Typhon smiles at you.
“Good! That means I can eat you!”
You jump away from her. Your whole body is tense, and you are having trouble breathing properly.
“Damn it, are you actually the Witch of Gluttony just pretending to be someone else?”
The child doubles over with laughter. When she recovers, she jumps from her chair and walks a couple of steps towards you. You only prevent yourself from moving because you feel she would simply get closer.
“You believe everything!”, Typhon says between giggles. “I don’t know if you are an evildoer yet. Let me hold your hand!”
“What?”
Typhon slowly approaches your hand with hers.
“This will tell me everything about you, Baru. If you truly are a bad person deep down, then I will curse you.”
You feel your pulse in your neck. You swallow to return some saliva to your mouth. Are you a bad person? You feel like you are. But Echidna has seen all of your memories and still accepted you.
“Ah… Can I refuse to be judged like that?”
Typhon frowns at you.
“No, because I’m the judge.”
You allow the girl to grab your hand. You tense up. You had expected to feel some electricity-like surge of power running through you, but it just feels as if you are holding a small girl’s hand.
Typhon giggles as she looks into your eyes.
“Baru, those are so many icky thoughts about girls!”
“Wha…?”
“You think about naked girls all the time!”
You try to withdraw your hand from her grip, but somehow you can’t move it.
“I do not! Well, I do! Is that bad!?”
You panic as a bead of sweat rolls down your forehead. The smile on Typhon’s face broadens.
“That’s not right, Baru! Those girls would feel bad if they knew, wouldn’t they?”
“Ah… I think that Rem and Emilia would be happy about it, don’t you think…? Do you know who they are…?”
Typhon is still smiling up at you, but with a coldness in her red eyes.
“You feel much worse about yourself than the stuff you have done, but those are so many dirty thoughts about girls! We have to do something about that, don’t we?”
You don’t want to respond, but you feel that you need to say something.
“Typhon, I also think about things other than girls…”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course! I think about eating good food, and talking to people I like, and killing people I don’t like, that kind of stuff.”
“Don’t you think you have a dirty mind, Baru?”
This child is still holding your hand. Your palms are sweating profusely.
“Anyway, I’ll help you with your problem”, Typhon says. “You are not an evildoer, just naughty!”
She moves back while still holding your hand, and you realize that your right arm has followed her even though you haven’t felt a pull in your body. She’s holding on to your rigid arm as if it were a doll’s limb. Your blood runs cold. You look down towards where your right arm ought to be, but it ends slightly below the shoulder as if it had been cut off and the wound cauterized immediately. No, as if you were a detachable action figure. You look back at Typhon, who has lowered her right hand, still holding on to yours, but keeps staring up at you as if she didn’t just pull off one of your limbs.
“You need to be punished, right?”, Typhon says casually. “In the future, whenever naughty thoughts come to you, you will fear that you will lose a part of yourself!”
You’re about to cry.
“There’s nothing wrong with naughty thoughts!”, you say unconvincingly. “Wanting to have sex with a bunch of people is one of the most normal things in the world! Maybe not with that trainee, but… those outfits are too much!”
You’re edging backwards, and at some point you realize that your left arm has fallen to the grass as if it were poorly glued to your body.
Typhon steps towards you while she chews innocently on her thumbnail. She’s still holding on to your detached right arm.
“I don’t want to eat you, though. You’re too skinny! And I’m not allowed to eat people with black hair!”
“I-I already know you aren’t Daphne! Please, don’t steal more of my limbs! I can’t regrow any of them!”
“But you need to be punished”, she says again with a playful smile.
You feel as if you are about to pass out. You don’t feel any pain at all, but trying to move your arms only for just your shoulders to pivot helplessly is screwing with your mind, sending it into a panic. Relax, you repeat to yourself. None of this is actually happening. You are inhabiting an avatar of sorts courtesy of Echidna. Think of that black-eyed loon and her warm insides you never got to taste.
“I don’t. I shouldn’t be punished. I should be able to think about having sex with whomever I want. I don’t hurt anyone with thoughts. You are the one messing with me.”
Typhon frowns as she stops chewing on her thumbnail. She tosses your right arm aside and she shakes her head.
“You’re not very nice, Baru. You’re not even nice to yourself! Maybe I should get Daphy to eat you after all.”
You shudder. You want to motion for the child to stop, but you don’t even have hands. Your legs are getting numb, as if they wish to stop holding your weight.
“You know, Echidna told me she would return to me after I had a chat with your glutton”, you say with a shaky voice. “The Witch of Greed won’t be happy if she finds me dismembered!”
“Nah. Ekidonna will find it interesting!”
She looks at your left arm, which is lying on the grass, and as if Typhon had cut it with a huge, invisible knife, the arm gets bisected silently.
“Y-You seem like such a nice girl, Typhon”, you say with a thin voice. “You wouldn’t fuck with me to such an extent, would you?”
Typhon looks at you with an innocent, cherub face.
“Don’t use bad words! When people can’t help themselves, they only learn through punishment, isn’t that right? All those icky thoughts about girls are making you feel guilty. That’s okay! I will divide your body for every naughty thought you ever had!”
The terror makes you want to vomit. This girl is going to reduce you into atoms!
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”, you yell as tears drip down your face. “Please forgive me! I am dominated by my genetic imperatives!”
“Nah, you must learn your lesson, Baru.”
Your legs give out, and you fall to your knees. No, to the stumps that your knees have become. The lower half of your legs has broken off cleanly. As you fall forward, unable to prevent yourself from faceplanting given that you lack both arms, you head gets detached and rolls off. A blade of grass slides across your eyeball, so you close your eyes. When your head, the only thing you feel you can move to any extent anymore, rests, you open your eyes to see the grass you are lying on rising in your vision like a tiny jungle. The rest of your body keeps bisecting slowly. Typhon is making sure you notice each time she applies her power. The child appears in your field of view, and she looks down at you with an innocent grin, as if she’s merely playing with you. You open your mouth to speak, but suddenly you lose your bifocality. It seems as if the part of your head that contains your left eye has detached and has slid down, so it only shows you the blue sky surrounded by unfocused blades of grass.
To your surprise, you can still speak.
“You called me mean, and yet you just reduced me to this. What does that make you, witch?”
Typhon giggles.
“Me? I’m not the mean one here. You’ve got a very mean look about you, Baru, even though you aren’t that bad of a guy. Besides, I’m saving you, am I not?”
You try to shake your head, but it just slides a little to the side.
“How do you call this being saved when I can’t even tell where my junk is? This is around the fourth time I’ve lost those guys!”
Typhon giggles, and she is about to say something when you both are startled by the distant sound of a woman shouting. It comes from the sky, and it increases in volume as if someone had jumped from a skyscraper and on the way down she berated as loud as she could the people she was about to meet below.
A few seconds later, the shouting becomes intelligible.
“The first time you meet him and you hurt him like this! It’s unforgivable! How could you be so cruel!? He only wished to speak to us! You think you can get away with this!?”
Typhon frowns, and crouches next to you to touch your forehead with the tip of her fingers.
“It looks like Nerva isn’t too happy with me. She can’t stop yelling, that one.”
One of your eyes catches a glimpse of a person falling feet first maybe around twenty meters away, where the hillock curves down. When the person crashes, it jolts the ground sending up a burst of dirt, grass and particles. After the grass and the dirt fall around the crater that has formed, you see a girl maybe in her late tens or early twenties, who is down on one knee. She’s beautiful, blonde and blue-eyed, and her fit body is clothed with the closest thing you’ve seen in this fantasy world to a superhero outfit, white and blue, which provides a generous amount of cleavage. She has gathered her long hair in a ponytail at the side of her head, as if she just wanted her hair out of the way. When she stands up, she flounces angrily towards Typhon and you, and midway through she points with a trembling hand towards the child. This new girl’s eyes are crying as if out of indignation, because she’s glaring at Typhon.
“You! You dare hurt Subaru like that!? I’ll never forgive you!”
Typhon rolls her eyes.
“Oh, he’s alright. Aren’t you fine, Baru?”
You narrow your eyes, even though one of them is only showing you blue sky and blurry grass.
“I’ve been better.”
The blonde girl shakes her head in disappointment, and now she’s looking down at you while tears keep running down her face. This stranger came to defend you, it seems.
“Nice to meet you”, you say. “I guess you must be one of the witches of old, right? You know my name from prying into my conversation with Echidna.”
She crosses her arms while she stares at you with her beautiful light blue eyes, but she’s frowning heavily as if outraged.
“We have no choice but to see and hear! We can’t go anywhere! You didn’t come to hurt any of us, nor to attempt to cast us from this world! In fact, you wanted to make love to the Witch of Greed!”
“Which is public knowledge now, it seems…”, you mumble.
The blonde woman clenches her right hand into a fist and she pumps it energetically.
“People should love each other! That’s the solution for all the troubles in the world! I’m Minerva, the Witch of Wrath! I’m glad to meet you in person, Subaru!”
“I like you already, Minerva. It doesn’t hurt that you have the body of a model, or how I imagine a model would look in person. I’d love to shake your hand, but you’d have to find mine first.”
Typhon lets out a noise of indignation.
“What did I tell you, Baru? No mouth for you.”
Something detaches in your face. It must be your mouth, because everything under your nose and above your chin feels hollow. You have lost the sense of taste, and you don’t feel the saliva in its cavity. You are surprised that you haven’t bled to death, nor had a heart attack because none of the things happening to your body make any sense.
Minerva narrows her eyes at Typhon, while her nostrils widen.
“You dare hurt Subaru further in front of me! You are the worst, Pride!”
“Oh, I’ll have you know that I’m still the best! The best! Wouldn’t you agree, Baru?”
You make a point of narrowing your eye that shows the child in its field of view. The little shit knows damn well you can’t say a thing.
“I won’t let you get away with this, Typhon!”, Minerva shouts while tears keep jumping from her eyes. “How many times do I need to tell you to be careful with people’s feelings!? You have no right to hurt others!”
“I need to know if people around me are evildoers, and to what degree. You know this, Minerva! I can’t have them getting away with being evil.”
“You’d do well to listen to someone who has more experience than you do, kid!”
“We are both more than four hundred years old, though.”
“I’m still older, and I have accrued more life experiences! I’m telling you, breaking people apart is a bad thing, especially someone you’ve just met!”
Typhon frowns, clenches her fists and stomps on the ground.
“You’ve always been like this. Why am I even friends with you?”
“Because the pair of us can’t exactly be choosers when it comes to allies! We are both outcasts, and we have to help each other out! Now, I suggest you return him to normal or I will keep demanding you do so!”
“No, I don’t wanna. He hasn’t learned his lesson! He had icky thoughts about you the moment he saw you!”
You want to say that you couldn’t help it, nor wanted to, really. But you can’t say anything without a mouth.
“I’m not mad about that, people can have whatever thoughts they want!”, Minerva shouts as she keeps pointing an accusatory finger at Typhon. “Hurting people, that’s a different matter! You better make this right or I’ll be this close to never forgiving you!”
Typhon looks away, then snorts as she crosses her arms.
“You are one to talk. You want nothing more than to punch and headbutt people.”
“I may have done some questionable things in the past, but I have never outright hurt someone like you do! Turn him back, Typhon!”
“No! People need to be punished for their bad actions!”
Minerva groans loudly, then turns toward you and glares murderously at what remains of your face.
“Alright, then! I will do it myself!”
The Witch of Wrath stands in a fighting stance. She pulls her fist back while eyeing you as if she’s targetting your forehead.
You want to scream, you want to ask for mercy. This witch who a moment ago was defending your existence suddenly intends to obliterate you. You don’t understand anything.
She leaps towards you while launching her powerful fist. You close your eyes. The moment her fist connects with your forehead, you feel whole, standing on your legs. The shock almost makes them buckle. You stagger around for a moment while balancing yourself with your arms, which you have regained as well.
Minerva holds her fist in front of her as if she’s checking if she’ll need to punch you again, and although she’s frowning and tears run down her cheeks, she’s as close to satisfied as you have seen this strange person.
Typhon shakes her head.
“Why did you have to get involved, Nerva?”, she complains with a teary voice. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong!”
Now that you have a voice again, you want to take the opportunity to defend yourself.
“Please, girls, let’s forget this regrettable incident.” You focus on Minerva, who looks back at you with her beautiful light blue eyes, like the water in a pristine lake. You walk up to her and offer your hand to shake. “I’m so glad to make your acquaintance, Witch of Wrath. Not only you look so fucking good, but you also prefer to put me together instead of breaking me apart. That makes you a winner in my eyes.”
Minerva wipes the tears from her eyes. She doesn’t stop frowning, or can’t, as she grabs your hand and shakes it while squeezing it strongly.
“I apologize if I seem a little angry! I can’t tolerate people hurting others, it gets on my nerves!”
“Don’t worry, I can tell that being furious is your niche. And man, you are as sexy as they come, aren’t you.”
Typhon stomps on the ground and clenches her teeth.
“Baru! Don’t say such icky things to my friends, I’m telling you!”
“If you don’t like it, then go away”, you say, barely glancing at her. “Sorry, Witch of Pride, if you have a problem with me having naughty thoughts, you might as well never share a room with me, because I’m made out of little else than naughty thoughts. If you took them out I’d become an empty husk.”
It seems that you won the argument, because Typhon pouts, walks away and vanishes as if she exited the death-dream.
Minerva smiles back at you, even though it looks malicious due to her frown. She gives your hand a final squeeze before letting it go.
“Typhon might be a dragon in a dress and I a lion, but you are a cat, Subaru!”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. You are too kind, Witch of Wrath, healing me through a righteous punch. I’m sure that if I ever get to leave this death-dream, I will remember you fondly. And not only because of that appetizing cleavage.”
She pumps her fist.
“Hah! You’d better remember!”
“I was supposed to meet Daphne, the Witch of Gluttony that you must be familiar with. Any tips on how to face such a terrifying prospect?”
She lowers her head while glaring fiercely.
“A-ha! Daphne is a real monster, but you are not! Just face her with the courage of your convictions, and I’m sure she will be just as charmed by you as I am!”
A smile grows on your mouth. You put your hands on your waist.
“Thanks for the advice. You remind me of my senior servant, if she were nice. It’s too bad you are dead, Minerva.”
“You look like you mean that, so I’ll take it as a compliment! I’m sure we would have been friends! Now, I have taken too much of your time! I hope we meet again, and remember to be fair and kind to people!”
“I intend to…”
You wave as Minerva turns around and walks away. When she vanishes, you feel sad.
As you turned to walk to your chair, Echidna is sitting in the shade of the parasol. Staring back at those black eyes with vertical slits fills you with such relief, it’s as if you came home after a long day at work. You sit down slowly while the Witch of Greed regards you with an apologetic expression.
“I failed to predict how eager Typhon was to meet you. She was waiting for the defenses to wane so she could take a good look at you.”
“It’s fine, really. I got to meet two interesting new people.”
You take a sip of your now tepid tea. Echidna rests her cheek on her hand and observes you with curiosity.
“You are something else, Subaru. Typhon’s black-and-white thinking led to that child breaking you apart, and yet your mind has recovered entirely. If anything, you seem more energized now. And I got to witness again how your psyche uses your sexuality as a defense mechanism. The moment you got aroused by our relentless paladin, your mind integrated the uncanny events without issues.”
You open your mouth to answer with the first thing that comes out naturally, but you realize that you are looking at someone whom you attempted to pleasure orally, and she’s pointing out that you just ogled at some other witch’s attributes.
“I apologize if me finding Minerva sexy bothered you, Echidna. I assure you that didn’t lessen how fascinated I am by your witchy self.”
She raises her eyebrows and sighs.
“I can see that you have a preference for the body type, and that’s fine by me. A lot of men seem to have a thing for dominatrixes.”
“I doubt that a dominatrix who healed people whenever she hit them would have a successful career. However, you are wrong about that. I want nothing more than sweet, loving intimacy occasionally accompanied by being murdered. That blonde hottie wouldn’t provide any of that. I was going to say that the prospect of it would make her angry, but I suppose that winning the lottery would make that one angry as well. You people have some burdens to bear with those curses you have been born with.”
Echidna takes a gulp of her tea. When she lowers the teacup, she turns her head slightly to the side and closes one eye as she looks at you.
“However, you did make me feel like a woman again, a flesh and blood female, by stimulating me to such an extent, but later on you salivate for a different woman. That’s a very mean thing to do, Subaru.”
You clear your throat. You can barely hold her gaze.
“You know, Echidna, I might have been cursed myself at birth to incarnate some horniness-related ideal. Have some sympathy for a fellow sufferer.”
She narrows her eyes at you, then puts her head down and chuckles.
“That’s true. It probably means you’re in more pain than even me. I’ll give you that. We are stalling, though. Our intention here was to summon the thorny witch of Gluttony, so you could figure something out about how to defeat at least one of her children. I’ll open the barrier again, and this time I will take extra care in making sure that nobody else interrupts your meeting. I can’t wait to witness how you deal with Daphne’s peculiarities.”
You shift your weight on the chair.
“You know, I feel we have been very lucky that more troublesome witches, one in particular, hasn’t taken the chance to confront me in your death-dream.”
Echidna nods slowly with a knowing, serious look.
“You are right about that. During this session, the Witch of Envy has attempted repeatedly to break into my death-dream.”
Your throat closes, and when a noise of surprise escapes your mouth, it sounds strangled.
“What!?”
“Special defenses, remember. Her insistence worries me, but she won’t succeed when I’m restricting access to the death-dream this much.”
“Somehow that doesn’t soothe my worries in the slightest. I’m guessing plenty of idiots in this fantasy world of yours had issues with you because you are a witch, and a powerful one at that, but I can’t imagine you doing something like what that traitorous Witch of Envy did to me: moving the return point so I couldn’t save the love of my life. That’s fucked.”
Echidna looks down at the grass for a moment.
“You wouldn’t hear pleasant words coming out of my mouth if I were forced to speak in depth about the Witch of Envy. She ruined my life. Ended it, in fact. But let’s forget about anything else that doesn’t relate to you meeting our Daphne for the first time. You will face a witch that won’t trigger your psyche’s main defense mechanism.”
You swallow your sudden anxiety.
“You know, I can appreciate some portly bodies.”
Echidna chuckles, a low sound.
“I’m sure you do, but I’m afraid that doesn’t apply here. Stay strong, Subaru. I’ll see you on the other side.”
You keep holding Echidna’s gaze in the vain hope that it will prevent her from leaving you, but as if she had been an illusion all along, the lovely, black-eyed Witch of Greed disappears leaving behind an empty chair.

Roleplaying through “Re:Zero” with the GPT-3 story generator (Part 62)

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

In the previous entry, our unlucky protagonist got to enjoy a break with some cute little bunnies.


You are looking down at grass so green as if it came out of a painting. None of the fingers of your right hand are missing. In fact, you still have arms. You check what you can see of the rest of your body, but you are as healthy as you have ever been. Even more than that, you are calm as if you just came out of an operation where they pumped you full of morphine, and yet you feel completely lucid. You remember everything. A horde of monstrous rabbits devoured you to the last drop of your blood, and you lost your mind. There wasn’t the hint of a commanding center that could steer your consciousness away from insanity. Would that have been the end? No matter how many lives you live, how many times you die and get reborn, what use is it if you lose your mind? And how were you saved?
You lift your gaze and you see her. Echidna. The Witch of Greed is sitting on her chair in the shade of the parasol. She has prepared two teacups and a steaming teapot, and she waits for you to join her. You keep staring at the witch while an indescribable gratitude fills you. She’s as pale as the snow you waded through, but still not as white as her long, silky hair. She’s wearing an elegant funeral dress that only exposes her flesh from the neck up, as well as her hands. She holds your gaze knowingly with her intelligent black eyes that have vertical, white pupils, and her smile welcomes you genuinely, as if she had wanted nothing more than to receive you again.
“That death was unimaginably awful, wasn’t it?”, Echidna asks calmly. “You were quite lucky that you just happened to end up in a room where I could help.”
You swallow, and try to clear the images from your mind.
“I was… I had lost it, hadn’t I?”
“Oh, don’t worry about it, I’ve been there. Dying and seeing my corpse decay before my very eyes left an impression on me. It was such a beautiful, elegant body, too. What a waste. At least you don’t stay around for that part. But you’re here now, safe and sound, thanks to my mercy.”
Echidna gathers her long white hair in one hand. She lifts it slightly as she tilts her head, and lets the hair slide through her fingers.
“Unless my eyes deceive me,” you say with a deep voice, as your heartbeat quickens, “you haven’t lost any of that beauty.”
Echidna laughs, and her black eyes shine. She smiles displaying her pretty teeth.
“You jump so quick to praising the women you are attracted to, Subaru. Not everyone likes a flatterer.”
“I’m serious. Seeing your pale face fills me with such joy that I could take your hand and dance for hours in this fake world of grass.”
Echidna closes one eye to look at you coyly with her other one.
“Hmmm… That’s quite the declaration. But you have seduced with similarly buttery words all those other women who prevented your mind from breaking, haven’t you?”
“None other could have. That’s what you wanted me to understand from the beginning, right? There is only one Echidna, the Witch of Greed, now or ever.”
Echidna hums, her eyes narrowing. She moves her hair to one side with both hands, leaning her head forward and exposing her long, slender neck. Her head cocked to the side, she lets out a mischievous little grin.
“You always did have a one-track mind, didn’t you?”
“One when it comes to the best.”
“In all that praise, I haven’t yet heard a ‘thank you’, Subaru. As in ‘thank you from stopping my mind from breaking permanently after being consumed by the Great Rabbit’. I wouldn’t do that for just anybody.”
“That’s right, you wouldn’t. You are a witch of old. You have better things to do.”
“But I’m doing it for you. Why is that?”
As she speaks, her voice becomes lower, the sultriness of it washing over you. You are short on breath, even though you intend to speak normally.
“Because I’m the first guy whose memories you have taken full possession of who happens to be able to return to the past whenever he dies, I’m guessing.”
Echidna smiles, and puts her hand on her chest.
“You know me so well.”
You walk up to the tea table. As you stand between the empty chair and Echidna’s, she looks up at you with a wavering smile, as if she didn’t predict you approaching her this way. You put your hand on the table and lean towards her.
“Why would you erase yourself from my memories whenever I exit this grass world of yours, Echidna?”
“Does it really matter? Besides, it’s not like I erased everything. I still left you with some… experiences.”
You put your hand on Echidna’s, which she’s resting on the table next to her filled teacup. She opens her eyes wide for a split second, and separates her lips. Her hand is warm. You’d gladly hold it for the entire time you spend here.
“It matters because I don’t want to forget you, Echidna. I want to keep you in my thoughts, that I was able to look at your beautiful face, that I had great conversations with you, and that you saved my life.”
Echidna’s lips curl into a smile, and even though she looks as if she’s containing it, she blushes slightly.
“In my case, I’d love it if you could come back to me whenever you die, again and again.” She slowly lifts her finger, and touches your chest. “It’s done. I have rewritten the pact so you will never forget me.”
Echidna gives you a small wink while she blows on her tea, as if to tell you it’s ready.
You stand there overwhelmed. You haven’t lifted your hand from Echidna’s, although she doesn’t acknowledge it. She is a witch who has been dead for hundreds of years, but she has seen every single memory you have stored and she can likely revisit them with perfect recollection. Instead of fleeing from you in a panic, she rescues you from insanity and then welcomes you lovingly in her dream. Your heart is beating as hard as you want this woman, and you fear that if she offered you to stay with her in her death-dream forever, you would jump for joy.
Echidna has lowered her head and is glancing at you shily while bending a corner of her mouth in a smile.
“What will I do with you, Subaru, when you just stand there staring at me so intensely?”
“I was just thinking of how beautiful you are.”
Echidna puts her hand on her mouth as she giggles, then she lifts that hand to touch your cheek.
“Well, I suppose I am. But we share something more meaningful than beauty, wouldn’t you agree?”, Echidna says.
Against your will, merely to make it less awkward, you nod, pull your hand away from hers and sit slowly on the chair across the Witch of Greed. A thin vapor rises from the tea she has poured for you.
She rests her elbows on the table, which displays the vertical strips on the sleeves of her black dress, and she rests her face on her palms while her black eyes glisten.
“I prepared my tea just how you like it. You didn’t remember me outside of my death-dream, but I wondered if you would have missed sitting in front of me, lifting a warm teacup to your lips and tasting my special tea.”
“Well, it depends. Did you add your special ingredient?”
“Oh, you don’t have to doubt that I will always prepare your tea with special attention. I put some more of that special ingredient this time, just for you.”
Her black eyes shining, she lifts her teacup to her lips and takes a sip.
“In that case, Echidna…”
You lift the warm teacup to your lips and you drink from it slowly, without stopping, tilting the teacup until only the sludge at the bottom remains. When you put your teacup down and lick your lips, Echidna’s eyes are watery, her white pupils have dilated horizontally, she’s breathing harder through her mouth, and her cheeks have reddened.
“Delicious”, you say with a throaty voice. “I’ll have some more.” You grab the steaming teapot and fill your teacup carefully. “But you will grant me some more time to enjoy my second cup more leisurely, won’t you?”
She plays with a strand of hair to avoid holding your gaze.
“Y-Yes, you may take all the time you need…”
“Still, why go through the theatrics of salivating on the tea you so lovingly prepare for me, Echidna? I would go straight to the source of your bodily fluids.”
The witch gulps.
“You know how to make the heart of a long-dead maiden race, Subaru. Would you clarify what you are proposing to me?”
“Isn’t it obvious? You do know more than anyone in this world, don’t you, Echidna? Then say what I meant.”
Even though she can’t push her blush down, she smiles mischievously at you.
“Why, you want to drink my blood, of course… Though it would be simpler if you just said so.”
“Ah, I see how it is. You know how much I have enjoyed all that blood-sucking business. But I wasn’t going for that. So would you care to guess again?”
She looks away from you and her face becomes one big frown, though she’s also trying not to laugh.
“You… You want… To taste my blood…”
“I want to taste something of yours, for sure.”
“Then… Then you want… But we both know what you want, Subaru.”
You lift your ass off the chair, then reach with your hand to hold her chin and make her look deep into your eyes.
“Echidna. I want to taste your blood, your sweat, your saliva, your tears… I want to taste every single liquid and fluid in your body. I want to feel your pain and your pleasure. I want you to lie on the grass, pull your panties down and open your legs. I will eat out the cobwebs from your dried up pussy. I will lap up your witchy cum to the last drop. And I’ll want to do it over and over.”
You can feel her emotions leaking into your mind. The sensation of a small droplet of water rolling down your cheeks. She shakes her head, and you feel the pulsating pain coming from her through your link. She takes your hand that was holding her chin, and slowly lowers it down to the table, although she doesn’t stop touching it.
“You use some dangerous words, especially with someone who has been alone for far too long… Far too long…”
“I’m glad that I am able to stimulate you, and I would stimulate you much more.”
Echidna lifts her free hand to her breast, that her funeral dress hugs tightly, and swallows. Her rosy lips are wet.
“You must get such pleasure of saying bold things, don’t you, Subaru?”, she asks with a low voice.
“For sure! Being weird is one of the best pleasures of life. As for other pleasures, lie down gently on the grass and open your legs for me so I can make you live again.”
A bead of saliva is about to run down her lip, but she licks it and closes her mouth. She looks down at your hand that she’s holding, and she strokes it slowly with her thumb.
“You are saying some very bold things right now.”
“Have I said too much already? My feelings for you are no secret, certainly not for a being of such immense power. At this point you must almost be able to read my mind and know what I think of you.”
“Subaru, you have a girlfriend, who is in a coma. And you have a girlfriend, who is lying on the antechamber’s floor, and who has shared passionate moments with you even if her current self doesn’t know it.”
“You wouldn’t be jealous of Emilia or Rem, would you?”
She makes a pouting face, and shuts one of her eyes. She turns her head to the side. You laugh at her childishly cute reaction.
“That’s even bolder, laughing at someone who can crush you with a snap of her finger”, she says nonchalantly.
“But at this point I would be glad to be crushed by you, Echidna. Surely you understand that.”
“You do have such a concept as cheating in your world. That much I have seen.”
“Yeah, it’s not good.”
Echidna looks up at you with her cheeks still red, but frowns in amused disbelief.
“But that’s what you are proposing by wanting to take care of this maiden’s long-buried longings, aren’t you?”
You don’t want to pull away from the warmth of Echidna’s hand, but you rub your chin with your free hand and think about it.
“Yeah, I don’t know why it doesn’t feel like cheating to me. It might be a complicated matter. The reality is that I want you to melt in my mouth as a gesture of genuine love and gratitude, instead of something sexual.”
Echidna’s cheeks blush even harder, and she hides her face with her free hand.
“I don’t believe there’s a world in which licking someone’s genitals to give them an orgasm wouldn’t be considered a sexual act. And you say it so calmly… You’re not at all hesitant like you were with the other two.”
“Well, in any case, have that in mind. If you ever want to get your pussy eaten, give me a call.”
She lowers her palm along her face, and her fingers linger on her lips for a moment. She can’t bring herself to look you in the eye.
“I hold all of your memories, Subaru, and I still can’t tell if you are serious. That’s how much of an enigma you are for me. And it just happens that mysteries make my heart race…”
You lean towards her blushed face, and you get to see those beautiful, delicate features that much closer.
“I don’t know either if I’m serious or not. So how about you lie on the grass, pull down your panties and we find out?”
She remains in silence for long seconds as she breathes heavily through her nose, and her heartbeats pound loudly in the artificial silence.
“Alright.”
With an immediate and decisive answer, she releases your hand, stands up and walks away from the tea table. With a snap of her fingers she materializes a fluffy, very comfortable looking rug which covers a patch of grass. She sits down on it, facing you, and leans back against the rug. She lifts the side slit of her funeral dress so she reveals her long, thin and snow white legs, befitting a princess locked in a tower.
You bite your lower lip while your heart jumps on your chest. You have no clue how you can have an erection in a death-dream, and although you are glad, the crotch of your pants is complaining about it.
Echidna slides her black lace panties down to her ankles, and then parts her legs a bit. You can’t see her pussy from your position, but you can’t wait to taste it. The open skirt of her black dress flows along with the wind, almost as if it’s a bridal gown. Echidna holds your gaze with her glistening black eyes, beckoning you to get closer.
“Come on over here, let’s get started.”
“Sorry, I can’t hear you. My raging erection is giving me tunnel vision.”
Echidna giggles quietly, taking one hand out of the slit of her dress to cover her mouth while her shoulders bounce lightly.
“I’m the only thing that matters in front of you, am I not?”
“I can’t think of anything else that would matter now.”
With a mischievous smile, Echidna parts her legs a bit more. She holds her black dress to her stomach with her other hand, giving you a full view of her damp pussy and beautiful legs. As you walk slowly towards the devil without moving your gaze away from that delicious meal, for a moment you are a bit disappointed that it didn’t turn out that Echidna had some weird pussy like a horizontal one or something crazier, but it doesn’t matter. Those rosy lips hugging that welcoming button on top are all you need in the world. You aren’t surprised that her pubic hair, which she hasn’t trimmed for a long time, but that still doesn’t suggest four hundred years of growth, is white as well.
“Come on, Subaru”, Echidna says with a sultry voice. “Do we have all night?”
Crouching down, you are now face to face with Echidna’s womanhood. Her overwhelming scent fills your nostrils, and you feel the heat coming from her, so hot as if it intended to scorch your skin. You stare into her vaginal opening, which from this angle and position it looks like a flesh version of the witch’s pupils. You won’t be able to hold her gaze the same way again.
You swallow before you start drooling, and then with both hands you caress the interior of her thighs slowly and lovingly, as if kneading her flesh. Echidna closes her eyes and lets out a sigh of pleasure.
“How bad do you want it, witch?”, you ask with a low, hungry voice. “How much do you want me to take care of that delicious pussy of yours over and over?”
“Mmmm, so much… You don’t even know how much I wish for that, Subaru”, she replies, her legs a bit shaking from the pleasure.
You lie on your chest and scoot closer to the warmth emanating from her insides. You caress along the sides of her waist, sliding your hands under her dress. You kiss and lick the pale skin of her inner thigh as you trace a slow path towards her pussy.
“Tell me”, you whisper.
“I want… I want you to need me… to love me… to be mine forever.”
You spread the lips of her pussy and move closer still, breathing in and out while feeling the intense heat of her core warming up your face. Her scent is making you light-headed.
“Forever, huh?”, you murmur. “As your personal slave…?”
“Nnhh… We’ll see… we’ll see.”
Threading your fingers through her pubic hair with one hand, with the other you wet your fingers with her warm juice, and slowly move in for a lick. Echidna arches her back and grabs your head with both hands, pulling you into her as her feet curl up.
Echidna sighs deeply, but as the tip of your tongue is about to touch her clit, you cannot move your face any closer. It’s as if an invisible barrier was holding you in place. You look up, thinking that Echidna has moved her hands to your forehead to push you, although you would have noticed, but she’s still holding your head as if to pull you closer. Still, you can’t reach further. A drop of your saliva falls from your tongue on her drenched insides, and Echidna lets out a soft moan.
“Ah… We have learned so much, Subaru”, she purrs.
You retract your tongue. Even though Echidna is running her fingers through your hair, you don’t like one bit that finality in her voice.
“We still have plenty to learn, Echidna”, you say almost out of breath.
The witch’s eyes glow with pleasure as she stares down at you with trust and love. She’s smiling as if she just came, even though she prevented you from even trying.
“I know we do. And our experiment was such a success. I have learned so much from myself, and from you. Despite my reservations and pretensions, plenty of them born because I have been trapped for hundreds of years, I yearn for this intimate touch with someone who would love to please me. I am a woman, I am alive. I am so grateful that you showed me that, Subaru.”
“I-I can show you much more than that! I will eat you out so good that it will send your spirit straight to heaven! I will make you see the light!”
“Ah… That interests me. The act of sex is to reproduce, but even without that, we humans find so much joy in it.”
“Just let me get a little bit closer, for the love of God.”
Echidna chuckles softly, then lets out a long sigh. She moves her hands to your cheeks, then caresses them lovingly as her gaze moves on your features.
“No, no… The love of the gods has abandoned us both.”
You frown, wondering what she means. Her pussy is still warming your face, her rousing smell filling your nostrils. Your dick hasn’t gone down a bit, and it must be leaking pre-cum. The blue balls for this one are going to kill you.
“Echidna… Is this another one of your trials?”
“In a way, everything is a trial, just not one as formal or as purposeful as the ones that lift the barrier of Sanctuary. Please, Subaru, tell me. I’m very curious to know how come I saw you hesitate so much in getting involved romantically with Rem and Emilia, and yet since you entered my death-dream I have seen nothing in your eyes but the wish to please me entirely.”
Echidna sits up, her calves still resting on your shoulders as she looks down at you. Her eyes analyzing your every thought.
You close your eyes, then you lower your hands to her thighs and use the inner part of one as your pillow. Your dick is squeezed against the ground.
“You know, back when I only thought about loving my Rem forever, I punished myself for every thought about touching other women, even if my subconscious produced them by itself. And my subconscious produced them by the hundreds, believe me. I thought that if due to some horrible lapse of judgement I let myself cheat on her, I wouldn’t be able to survive psychologically. My mental stability has always been precarious, and to keep going I have to be able to stand on platforms such as ‘I’m not the kind of man who would cheat on the love of his life’, or ‘I won’t eat human remains’, or ‘I will never have sex with the precocious trainee despite her skimpy outfit and that in my mind I keep confusing her name with Lolita’. We need those kinds of maxims to survive in society, even though the society I have ended up living in is nuts. But… unfortunately I discovered that I can survive, remain sane, after committing the worst sin in the world, and carrying on regardless doesn’t seem so bad anymore. Does that make me stronger, Echidna?”
Echidna combs her waist-long hair with her hand while looking up at the clouds, deep in thought.
“I don’t know. I’ve never thought of myself as strong, just lucky. I’m just a girl that was given powers beyond imagination and a broken brain to use them.”
You hide your face with the witch’s thigh.
“You remain coherent even in the midst of your overwhelming compulsions, so that alone makes you a role model for me.”
Echidna giggles as she runs her fingers through your hair.
You sigh deeply.
“If I want to be real honest with myself, maybe I don’t even want to pursue the next intriguingly pleasurable shot of pain, nor wear my willpower down to nothing by saving the people I like over and over. Every aspect of my personality is just a symptom of my overpowering need to devour pussy, hence how I ended up hiding my urge to cry against the thigh of a witch that has been dead for four hundred years.”
“I understand”, Echidna whispers.
“Maybe you could help me with that one last compulsion.”
“We cannot do it, Subaru. Not in this place.”
You separate your face from her warm thigh just enough to see Echidna’s expression. She is running her fingers through your hair slowly while she holds your gaze with an expression of unconditional understanding, as if she were your loving mother. Your penis isn’t sure whether it should soften or harden. You swallow.
“There would hardly be a more suited place for us to enjoy some naked romance while rolling on the grass, possibly downhill.”
“I never really thought about having sex in the outdoors before… but then I suppose I never had such a beautiful partner to do so with.”
“You are really not making it any easier that I cannot lick you dry right now.”
Echidna clicks her tongue.
“Ah, I know…”, she says as if she isn’t the one preventing you from eating her out.
Echidna motions for you to lift your head off her thigh, and you are disappointed that you can’t enjoy her warmth any longer, but the witch slides down next to you and puts her arms around you. You hold her waist and put your head against her chest. Her dress smells like an antique shop, but it’s not unpleasant. You sigh, then relax your body. This feels real nice. It’s hard to believe that your body remains in the cold, dark world outside, waiting for you to fly back into it.
“Subaru… We can’t satisfy our sexual needs with each other because you forgot something vital about this place”, Echidna says softly.
“I don’t know what it could be. Your pussy was as real as they come, except that this one wouldn’t come!”
Echidna chuckles.
“I’m very, very serious. Think about it.”
“You mean the witches’ tomb itself?”
“That’s right. It’s in the name, isn’t it?”
“… Sorry. Most of my blood isn’t reaching my brain.”
“It’s fine. The plural in the name isn’t a misnomer, Subaru. The same way my spirit remains restless, so do theirs.”
A cold shiver runs through your body, and before you know it you have sat up. Your current world is an ocean of grass in which the swollen waves are frozen, allowing the lovely Echidna to set on the top of them her tea parties enhanced with saliva. No sign of any voyeur witches.
“Are you suggesting that the other witches of old are here, and I just can’t see them?”, you ask quietly, even though any other witch present would have heard plenty of incriminating stuff.
“Correct. By binding all of our souls into the very tomb, they prevented us from disrupting their notion of how the world ought to be. But we have never ceased to think, to feel, to suffer…”
“That’s… that’s not natural.”
Echidna sighs, and sits up. She touches her fingers to her lips, then touches them to yours. Although you want so bad to kiss her, she wouldn’t allow it.
“But the worst punishment was locking us up for hundreds of years with each other”, Echidna adds. “I’m the only one who can create these realistic simulations, and the others can only enter them as long as I weaken the defenses. But I assure you, they have heard everything, they have seen everything.”
You gulp, and now you feel a bit sick.
“Even Satella…?”
Echidna’s expression sours as if she wished to never be reminded of the witch who killed her. The Witch of Greed sighs, then nods.
“I have special defenses set up for that one.”
You lower your head, trying to take it all in. You are already overwhelmed by the current witch of old. She’s capturing your thoughts and your senses. But a bunch of them you have never met have been looking into the scene as if from a sex shop booth, probably while touching themselves? It’s too much. And that Witch of Gluttony, who created the White Whale, is among them.
Echidna twists around and pushes you down playfully so you lie on your back, and then she lies next to you. You are staring at a perfectly blue sky as if Echidna didn’t add neither red nor green into the equation.
“Subaru, let’s forget about those girls for a while. You must have so many questions that only my knowledge can answer, isn’t that right? And you have spent all your time since you entered my death-dream trying to pleasure me sexually.”
“Which you appreciate, I hope…”
“Of course, but maybe we should focus?”
“I suppose…”
“Good. Ask away, you adorable little thing. Ah… But let’s first set the mood by gazing at the stars.”
You turn your head towards Echidna to figure out if she’s making a joke.
“The day is as clear as th-“
The death-dream goes dark, and the grassy ground ceases to hold your weight. Although you seem to be floating in a void, in practice something like an invisible hammock is holding you in place. Echidna, the Witch of Greed, leans against you from the side. She rests her temple on yours, and after she lifts a hand towards the black void above you and she snaps her fingers, an endless horizon of a myriad of stars, nebulae and galaxies lights up. The both of you are bathed in their distant warmth.
You want to choke up. You are holding on to the closest thing to a goddess you have ever known.

Roleplaying through “Re:Zero” with the GPT-3 story generator (Part 61)

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

In the previous entry we witnessed Garfiel going through a mental breakdown, which is more dangerous than usual when the person in question can transform into a ginormous, unstoppable anthropomorphic tiger. Patrasche ended up allowing the protagonist to keep struggling for a bit longer. That ground dragon is the only innocent character in this tale.

This part is much shorter than the rest, the shortest in fact, because I have already written most of the following one and it turned out to be fucking long and had a different feel.


You are lying on a floor made out of lots of flat stones. You recognize it as the antechamber, but your body knows immediately that something is wrong. When you breathe, the air comes out as a fleeting, misty cloud, and then you feel the cold. It’s as if a winter has descended. Winter has never meant anything good in this new world of yours. The weather in Sanctuary didn’t suggest this cold, so either a lot of time has passed, or Emilia has died.
You sit up and hug yourself. It’s far too cold for your current clothes, and you can’t keep your teeth from chattering. The chamber is illuminated by the shafts of light the descend from the openings in the stone roof, but you notice that snow has amassed on the floor below the openings. Even if Emilia has died, and the world is on its way to another Apocalypse, you must have been out cold for a while.
You hide your face in your hands and try to focus on your situation. With every breath, a few of your ribs hurt. You must have broken some of them when you flew off Patrasche. Garfiel transformed into a gigantic, unstoppable tiger, and he killed Otto, he killed those villagers, he killed your Patrasche… This world needs to end already. It’s another failed run. But at least you will take the opportunity to figure out why the hell would it be snowing suddenly. If Emilia has died, you doubt it would have been by Garfiel’s hands, unless the hick bastard decided to turn around and massacre absolutely everybody else in Sanctuary. Would he have done so?
“Emilia?”, you find yourself calling out, but no reply comes back.
Your eyes are starting to burn, and you’re beginning to feel dizzy. You want to hold the half-elf in your arms and feel for a while that everything is alright. To do so you will need to die again, and you always hate to anticipate that incoming pain and in which form it will come this time. You are far away from that fancy suicide device back at the capital, and it’s not as if you can rely on the safe death that a gun provides.
From the feeling in your chest and the blurry vision in front of you, you can tell your heart is about to give out at any given moment. You stagger up while you grit your teeth. You will return to Ryuzu’s place, that nice Ryuzu that baked you cookies, and find out for sure if your Emilia is dead. When you confirm it, you will procure yourself one of the slow deaths by plunging a knife into your carotid artery.
As you walk slowly out of the antechamber and into the darkness of the stone corridor, you feel again that something isn’t right. Shouldn’t the trial have triggered? You should be experiencing the second trial of the three. Is this part of it? If as they suggested, the second trial represents the present, certainly struggling to deal with Sanctuary’s problems is one of the most pressing issues in your current life. You’ll keep that on the back of your mind.
You exit the witches’ tomb and shuffle up to the edge of the platform. The clearing as far as you can see is blanketed in glittering snow, and judging by how it has amassed against the trees, the snow must be shin-deep. The enclosing forest is topped with white. If you weren’t dreading that you need to kill yourself as soon as possible, and also you weren’t risking hypothermia if you aren’t suffering from it already, you would bask in the beauty of this wintry scene.
You jump off the last stone step to wade into the snow. With every third step you take, the snow rises above your ankle. By the time you’ve taken twenty steps it has swallowed your calves. The world is silent except for some occasional bird calls. All the previous times you ended up at the witches’ tomb you could rely on Otto’s carriage to return to the center of the village, but this time you’ll need to trek there on foot. You hope you’ll remember the way.
It takes you what feels like way too long to reach the first villager homes, farms and barns. You don’t see anybody. The barns and grazing fields are devoid of animals, and the only sign of life are the birds that move in the snowed canopy and that fly over the path. You don’t want to check any of the houses, because you don’t want to deal with any of the villagers if they happen to be huddled inside.
The church is one of the tallest structures in this part of the village, so you know you can head in that direction to find it. Once you spot it, you quicken your pace. Your teeth are chattering bad, your lungs tingle from the cold, your hands and feet are getting numb, snot is coming out of your nose. Living is such a bother. You are already aching for the all too short break of floating in that black bath of love, so you can glare with resentment, even though you won’t have eyes any longer, at that traitorous witch.
Once you reach what passes for the village square in Sanctuary, with both Ryuzu’s home and the church-like building in the background, you would have hurried to check on Emilia if it wasn’t because you see that there’s bunch of clothes strewn about the snow, as if someone had ran around to throw the laundry. As you get closer to one of those sets of clothes, though, it looks different. It’s as if a villager had fallen and his body had disappeared, leaving his clothes lying on the floor. You mess them a bit, to see if there’s a hint of any remains, but you don’t notice anything weird about the clothes beyond them being thrown outside and half-frozen.
The large door of the church is open, and you glimpse lots of either people or clothes gathered on the floor. You shiver in the cold and run towards the church. As you enter you hold your breath. Sets of clothes that had belonged to Roswaal’s villagers are gathered on the floor as if, again, their owners had just fallen and then vanished, leaving the clothes behind. You even spot the idiotic village chief’s wizardly robe.
Your heart stops for a moment. You aren’t going to find Emilia’s dress inside Ryuzu’s home, with the half-elf missing, will you?
You can’t think straight as you exit the church again, but some movement near the center of the square makes you stop on your tracks. A white rabbit seems to have emerged of the snow as if it had been burrowing under it. It looks very similar to the rabbits you knew, except for the solid red eyes and a small horn protruding from its forehead. The animal licks its paws, and when you let out a sigh of relief, it lifts its gaze as if it feared a predator. The white fur that covers most of its body is almost as clean as flour, without a single trace of dirt. The soft hair shuffles on its feet as it moves them on the powdery snow. The rabbit focuses its red gaze on you.
You find yourself smiling. Coming across a beautiful little bunny is the only nice thing that has happened to you recently. You trudge your way through the snow, with more difficulty because of how much your ribcage hurts than because of the depth of snow on this square, and you stop within petting distance of the rabbit. It looks up at you curiously while its ears twitch.
“Look at you, what a cute little fella! I haven’t had good experiences with horned animals in this world of yours, but who am I to judge about horniness?”
The rabbit licks its nose and hops a bit to the side. You crouch down as you prepare yourself to pet it.
“What is a cute little bunny like you doing in a place like this? Do you come here often?”
The rabbit hops a bit to the other side, and your hand hovers just out of reach from it.
“Come on, I promise I wont hurt you. Just let me touch you for a moment.”
The rabbit seems to consider it, and then moves a bit forward. You smile, and you reach with your hand to touch the fur of its head. A chill makes you shiver from head to toe as you feel as if you’ve lost a split second of your life. What just happened? Your right hand feels warm, and it keeps warming as something liquid runs down it towards your wrist. You look at your hand and it takes you a moment to register that the palm is covered in blood, and that both your index and middle finger are missing. You scream and stumble back. The blood from your hand makes it slippery and you fall on the ground.
The rabbit sits there looking at you, blood dripping from its mouth. You notice its teeth are unnaturally long, like fangs, but not normal ones. It hops forward with a grunt and bites on your right forearm with its teeth, piercing the skin through the clothes and sinking them into your flesh.
You push yourself with your heels while at the same time you try to kick at the monstrous rabbit, and when you land a hit on its belly, everything below where the rabbit was chomping on your arm tears off. As you scream, blood pumps out what remains of your right arm. The rabbit devours your detached flesh, including its bones, with a few chomps, and then runs around licking every pool and drop of blood as if cleaning the snow.
You stagger to your feet. You are surrounded by furry balls of white that stand or hop around in every direction of the village square. As gray patches grow on the edges of your vision, your entire world turns into dozens of pairs of red eyes staring at you on a white background.
Your legs wobble. You clench your teeth, fearing to make a single sound, but it’s no use. As if controlled by a single voice, every one of the dozens of rabbits that have emerged out of the snow bare their teeth and charge at you from every direction. You raise your remaining hand as if to beg them to stop, but an uncountable number of rabbits leaps towards you and shove their teeth into your flesh. You fall helplessly to the ground. There’s no popping sound when their teeth puncture your skin, but a slurping sound. It’s as if your body is a block of ice-cream, and the blood that spews out is as pleasurable as the sweet treat. The pain does not come immediately, and you just feel a tingling sensation all over your body, but when the shockwaves of pain do come, it’s along with visions of rabbits tearing off your feet, chomping through your thighs, burrowing into your abdomen, munching through your ribcage, pulling off your genitals. Tiny sharp teeth chew through your skin, shattering your bones. Viscous liquids are mixed together in a blender of sharp claws and jagged teeth grinding against fragile brittle bone that ultimately shatters like glass.
You are unable to scream, the only air that escapes is a stifled wheeze. The grayness you see at the edge of your vision begins to engulf your entire field of view, accompanied by a ringing in your ears. You feel the rabbits feeding on you from the inside, roofed by what remains of your ribcage. Other rabbits are biting your neck and your head, crunching bone.
The soft crunching sound of chewing, the sloshing of liquids being mixed, the disgusting squishing noise of your organs being rearranged. Your brain is fried by the excruciating pain. Your spinal cord is shredded apart, and your nerves are pulled taut like guitar strings. Your heart continues fluttering weakly in an attempt to escape the rigid cage that holds it still. With death approaching, you regret not telling Ram you were sorry. You regret not thanking Emilia for everything she’s done. You regret not being able to say one last goodbye to Rem, who surely…
In the blinding redness that your vision has become you get a glimpse of rabbit faces as they leap onto your head and munch on your face. You feel them plunging their teeth into your eyes and pulling them off, then burrowing further into your eye sockets. The front of your skull is punctured as they bore through. The lobes of your brain are torn as they pull outward, then the jelly-like insides are pulled out, scrambling and destroying the gray mass while they finish chewing through all the soft spots. The blood vessels in your brain and spine explode as you feel yourself falling into an endless pit of darkness.

Blackness all around. I can’t see them. Where are they? They are all over me. Something warm seeps into me. I need to escape. I don’t see the way. There’s nothing but blackness. What’s that shape? A woman. A woman with hazy, glowing purple eyes. She’s coming. She’s reaching towards me, her hands have claws. Stay away! Get away from me! Don’t touch me! No, I don’t want it! Get out of my face! I can’t move! I can’t feel my body! I can’t get away!
“I love you I love you I love you I love y-“
“Aaaggh! Help me! I can feel them, they are all over me!”
“I love you I love you I lo-“
“No! Get away! Leave me alone! They are eating me! They are inside me!”
“I love you I-“
“They are inside of my chest! They are tearing me apart! Get out! I need to escape! I can’t move!”
“I love-“
“No! Get out of my face! My throat! I can’t scream! No, not my eyes! They are tearing my face off! They are clawing crunching eating my skull! They are in my brain!”

You are lying on a stone floor. Your mouth is full of dust. You spit, then break into coughs. Where are they? Where have they gone? They aren’t here. I need to get away. You half crawl half push yourself up the ground to stand up, but there’s a body on the floor. A woman. You trip on the woman and fall on your chest. The pain makes you scream, and you scratch at your clotches so you can pull away those monsters from you. You can’t grab them, they are already inside. Why did they eat you? Why did this happen? I didn’t do anything. I didn’t deserve it. They tore me apart, every limb, every organ. They fed on me until I disappeared.
As your body shakes and you clench your fists against the stone floor, you voice escapes in guttural cries.
“Why!? Why!? Why!?”
Someone speaks in your head, with your own voice. You hear yourself saying a sentence that you hadn’t thought.
“I grant you access to my death-dream.”
Your eyes want to close. Your forearms fail to support your weight, and your cheek hits the cold flat stones. Everything goes dark.

Roleplaying through “Re:Zero” with the GPT-3 story generator (Part 60)

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

We reach part sixty, which is as long as the first season got, and yet this one has much more left in store. Don’t know how I feel about that.

In the previous entry we learned that Garfiel might like wrestling a bit too much, that Otto is a true bro and might or might not be able to communicate with animals and insects, that Ram can appreciate people when they do a good job, that Beatrice is probably not a witch cultist, and that Garfiel is supposed to be as strong as an entire army of warriors.


Ram, Otto and you are hurrying through the path that eventually reaches the barrier that surrounds Sanctuary. Although you are holding on to your beloved ground dragon Patrasche’s reins, who had grown nervous after picking up on the mood, you still don’t just mount Patrasche and make the fastest run for the exit, because you don’t know if Garfiel has figured out you are missing and has planned an ambush along the way.
It’s a cloudy night in which the starlight fails to illuminate properly what passes for streets in Sanctuary, which lack any kind of artificial light at night. As the three of you pass in front of some houses, you spot behind the window frames the worried and curious faces of half-beast people. They must have a good idea of what’s going on, and might not want the trouble that Garfiel and that Ryuzu Shima have brought by kidnapping and imprisoning you. One of the half-beast families is sitting on the yard. When they notice you, the mother, which seems to be half-racoon, turns pale. The father, whose furry half you can’t identify, stands up, puts his hand to his chest and repeats ‘we are sorry’ a few times. They seem afraid, but you understand practically nothing of the dynamic of the people trapped here, or who simply were born, grew up and will end up dying here, with the power structure of the village.
Turns out that Ram’s warning about how short on time you were to escape should have registered in your brain, because the three of you end up staring at Garfiel, who is standing in the middle of the path, in the direction you need to follow, with his feet firmly planted on the ground. He’s glaring with boiling anger, as if he has been stewing in place for a while.
Ram mutters to herself, and then she leans towards your ear as the three of you keep walking at a slower pace.
“There’s little point in admonishing you now about this likely consequence, Barusu, even though I wish I had the time to do so. At least now we know Garfiel’s location. Follow my lead, and whenever I tell you to, get on your ground dragon and ride as fast as you can out of Sanctuary.”
When the three of you get within speaking distance of Garfiel, he begins to talk. The voice is angry and loud, and his sentences are broken by heavy breaths and fury-driven grits.
“Ya broke out… I told ya we woulda let ya go when the princess passed them trials, but ya just hadta make everythin’ harder… I knew from the moment ya came outta that tomb that ya were terrible news, a weird half-pint like ya… Appearin’ from that nasty world outside ta mess up my home, threaten my home… The frickin’ gall of it… Now ya want ta escape and make fools out of me and me gran…? Everybody thinks we’ve done somethin’ wrong…! I give everythin’ for our home, and they side with a cultist fuck… Ungrateful half-breeds…”
You raise a hand intending to calm him down.
“Just take it easy, Garfiel. The whole thing was a misunderstanding, I told you. I’ll just leave your village and return home. That should be alright. You don’t want a weirdo messing up your place, after all.”
“Shut it! Ya broke outta my grip, makin’ me look all stupid in front of gran, after messin’ in our home, and now ya want ta leave as if you had done nothin’…! We treated ya as guests…!”
You realize that Patrasche is growling. As if Garfiel’s enmity wasn’t clear enough, she must have a grudge for that wrestling move the punk pulled on her the first time you met this hick.
“Garfiel, after I leave, Roswaal intends to smooth the whole thing over. I already explained to the clown bastard that it was all a misunderstanding, that you both were acting to secure the peace in the village. So everything is alright. I’m sure we can wake up Ryuzu Bilma so you can enjoy some more of her snacks while you talk it out with Ram.”
“Her… snacks…!? That’s it!? Ya think I can be bribed by some human food!? How damn unthankful ya be, humie! Ungrateful half-breed… Ungrateful… Ungrateful…”
“Human food? What kind of snacks do you prefer, Garfiel? You seemed very fond of those fried potatoes and the cookies.”
“Ugh…! Ungrateful, both of ya…” Garfiel’s anger seems to be replaced by self-deprecation as he mumbles some incomprehensible complaints. “Both of ya… If I weren’t such a weak bastard, this place’d be happy and safe fer everyone. But I failed. So ungrateful…”
Even though Ram had clearly intended for you to stay at a safe distance away from the punk, you step forward a bit, and your senior servant has no choice but to imitate you.
“Hey, you’re not weak”, you say intending to sound friendly, even though your mind is reaching for a wide variety of ‘fuck off, Garfiel’. “You are the strongest man in the world. I managed to escape that dungeon because I scurried out like a common rat.”
Otto, maybe just realizing what you are doing, stutters for a moment and then contributes.
“Y-Yeah! You just need some help!”
Garfiel was hunched over and clawing at the nasty patch of scarred skin between his eyebrows, as if he needed to tear something from himself. He then turns his attention towards the two of you with a glare.
“Shut it. Both of ya. I’ve had it. I could smell it in ya, even though I couldn’t tell as much as the old hag. Ya came to ruin us. Ya have all that place out there in that fancy world made for ya, but ya came to mess our home. The only one we have. I can’t forgive any of that.”
Ram speaks so loud and so sternly that you flinch.
“Garfiel, you will stand aside and allow Mr. Natsuki to leave the village. This is an order from lord Roswaal. If you don’t do so, you will be severely punished.”
Garfiel’s upper lip is twitching. He couldn’t bring himself to hold Ram’s gaze, until he finds the strength to glare openly at her. His nostrils widen.
“Shut it, Ram. Yer so strong an’ tough an’ hot, but ya gave up yer nature to live with the humans. Ta serve that clown bastard. Yer supposed ta live in the woods with yer kind, aren’t ya? I know all ‘bout that, I was very inta ya, after all. But yer a traitor as well.”
Ram’s expression doesn’t change.
“You’re a fool.”
Garfiel closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. As he slowly lets it out, he draws a mocking smile.
“A fool, ya say, huh? That’s all ya see when ya look at me, some worthless turd on the side of the road, don’t ya?” He laughs bitterly. “I didn’t wanna realize that, but one can’t keep himself from knowin’ once he does, doesn’t he? I’m so much madder ‘bout that than ‘bout damn half-pint breakin’ out. It’s all hopeless an’ pointless, ain’t it?”
You swallow, and your hands start trembling even though you thought that your multiple deaths would have steeled you enough to face this violent hick. Garfiel looks dismantled, as if the few things that managed to keep him going in this dead-end village had been torn apart while he watched helplessly.
“Garfiel, please…”, you say softly. “Let us through.”
He breathes harshly. Slowly, his eyes move from Ram to you, and he lets out a low growl.
“I ain’t movin’ anymore fer nobody.”
“You’re not moving…?”
“I’m stayin’ here. I’m gonna live the rest of my days in Sanctuary. Not even a damn half-pint bastard like you, cultist or not, can get me outta here.”
“I’m sure experiencing the world outside will do you some good, Garfiel. We will figure something out to break that barrier, sooner or later. After this whole misunderstanding is cleared out. And I’m sure that our lovely Ram would be open to spend a nice afternoon with such a strong gentleman like yourself.”
Ram’s glare burns the side of your face.
“I will not entertain such a notion”, the senior servant declares. “I will not lower myself to spend any of my precious time allowing what would pass for courting in this cretin’s mind.”
You snap at her.
“You aren’t helping in the slightest, senior servant!”
“Do not use me as bait, Barusu. It damages my integrity.”
“Lower yerself, huh…?”, Garfiel mutters.
Ram takes a deep breath.
“Because that would be taking advantage of someone who obviously has an interest in me.”
“After ya called me a cretin. I think that means stupid. So after ya called me stupid, now ya pretend ya said that because ya care. You think I’m lower than dirt, don’t ya, Ram…?”
“That is not true, I simply…”
“Don’t lie ta me! Ya’ve been mockin’ me since the first time ya came with that clown bastard, an’ ya’ve been doin’ it in front of everyone! Always lettin’ others know how little ya cared, how little I was worth… It killed me.”
Ram shakes her head and exhales through her clenched teeth.
“I don’t wish to waste my time handling your hurt feelings, Garfiel. I’m sure any of your grandmothers will help you with that. You have done nothing to earn your infatuation. As I said, stop threatening us unless you want to suffer the consequences.”
Garfiel chuckles, even though a thin layer of tears is rimming his lower eyelids.
“Ta threaten others with consequences, ya need ta be strong enough to enforce them, don’t ya? So what are ya gonna do against me, Ram? Ya or yer clown bastard whose piss an’ shit ya handle, anyway. What can ya do against me?”
Ram separates her feet and cracks her fingers, moving into a fighting stance.
“I will do what I must, as usual.”
“Oh, well, that’s a good answer! Should I tremble in fear? Maybe… maybe yer gonna go out with a bang?”
You truly don’t want to attract the punk’s attention at the moment, but you also fear what this guy will do to your senior servant after he has faced that she’ll never have anything romantic or sexual to do with him. He doesn’t seem the type to take rejection calmly.
“Garfiel, you wouldn’t hurt Ram, would you? Look at her. You want to mess that pretty face, ruin those long, slender legs of hers?”
“Shut it! Whatcha mean? I ain’t hittin’ her!”
“That’s right, leave the spanking and a little degradation for the bedroom. Nothing wrong with that.”
“Nah, I’m not… not into that sorta stuff.”
“You sure? Not even a little bit?” You sounded disappointed, so you clear your throat and speak calmly. “Doesn’t matter to me. We can still be friends, you know. I’m on your side.”
Garfiel snarls.
“Piss off! I don’t know what I’m doin’ listenin’ to ya! I’ve had enough with the shit that comes outta yer mouth!”
“Fair enough. But don’t forget, if you’re not going to listen to me, you’ll have no chance with Ram. She doesn’t do anything I disapprove of.”
Garfiel groans and holds his head while trembling. Maybe his brain will just burst from all the abuse and mindfucking, and you’ll merely have to step over him.
Ram pushes your shoulder, more strongly than you would have liked, and motions with her head so you and Otto attempt to pass by Garfiel, taking advantage of his current confusion. However, the senior servant herself barely moves.
“Garfiel, we are leaving”, Ram says casually. “We will continue with these matters at another time.”
“Are ya…?”, Garfiel asks with a raspy voice, his gaze lowered.
“Yes, we are. While I would love to stand here and watch the rest of this play, I too have work to do.”
You and Otto start walking properly in the direction of the barrier, with you in the lead and holding on to Patrasche’s reins, but before you know it Garfiel pushes past Ram and blocks your path off with a threatening stance. If you weren’t a sort of immortal, you’d be shitting your pants.
“Move”, you say as firmly as you can.
“I ain’t movin’ for nobody.”
You narrow your eyes.
“So what, you intend to hold us off here until we get bored and turn around?”
Garfiel’s eyes narrow. He moves closer to you and gets in your face.
“I warned ya before, half-pint. I don’t forget, and I don’t forgive. Ya’ve been a pain in my ass since we met. And now I’m goin’ ta break yer fuckin’ legs!”
Garfiel drops down for a legs tackle, but you leap over him and drag Otto with you. You sit on Patrasche’s back, and as Garfiel gets up you kick him in the face, knocking him back.
“Sorry about this”, you say. “You can be an annoying piece of shit, but I still feel sorry for you.”
You must have kicked him harder than you intended, because blood gushes down his face, making him look like a hell beast.
“Yer sorry fer me!? Ya small-timer, lightweight cultist shit pities me!? I was holdin’ back on y’all ‘cause I care, but that’s all done. Ain’t no point in it. I’ll have ta make it so I can’t think straight no more. That’s how the world looks best anyway.”
Garfiel’s body begins contort unnaturally as he moves to a crawling position, his once handsome face becoming blotched and twisted. He lets out a gurgling growl, and he glances at Ram as if forcing himself to.
“As they say, Hoshin was Banan’s sunset.”
The punk’s voice has distorted into something closer to a beast’s. Otto gasps, and jumps forward so he stands between you, even though you are mounted on Patrasche, and the mutating punk.
“What, that meant something!?”, you ask, worried and bewildered.
“Of course! It refers to the conquerer Hoshin of the Wastes, who brought the small nation of Banan to ruin! It means surrender or face an all-out attack!”
“Hoshin, like that royal candidate broad?”
“I believe that miss Anastasia Hoshin took that last name as a declaration of inte-“
“We don’t have time to fill the holes in Barusu’s knowledge!”, Ram shouts sternly. She’s pulling back while keeping Garfiel on her sights, as well as distorting the air above her right palm in a swirl. “Otto, get on his ground dragon. Barusu, ride as fast as you can without looking back. I will hold Garfiel off.”
As if Patrasche had understood her words, or the merchant had asked her, she crouches to the ground, and you feel Otto sitting on the saddle behind you. He holds your waist as if he doesn’t quite want to. You don’t take your eyes off your senior servant even after Patrasche stands up and prepares herself to sprint.
“Don’t you dare die here, Ram! If you see the opportunity, flee!”
Garfiel, whose muscles have ballooned already to thrice their size, is growling intermittently while his body grows grotesquely and his bones groan and creak. Ram extends her shooting arm towards the mutating hick.
“Shut it, Barusu, and get out of here!”
You give your steed a light kick, making her sprint away from Garfiel. You hate leaving Ram behind, having been consistently unable to help her while she sacrificed herself for you, even if she does it out of duty, but you grit your teeth and ride like hell. Presumably Ram shoots her wind spell or does something, because a loud sonic boom occurs behind you. You look over your shoulder to see a massive gust of wind kicking up a violent whirlwind past the point where the path bends and the tall treeline hides the view. You look forward and squint to focus on the poorly lighted path.
“I hope any of us, meaning you, knows the way”, you say to Otto, the guilt evident in your voice.
“We informed a few friendlies about our operation before we rescued you, Mr. Natsuki! Goodness, I sure hope our senior servant is alright, and will be for the foreseeable future! I don’t know her all that much, but I can tell she’s serious and competent!”
“Yeah, she’s one of the best for sure.”
You are getting dizzy. Even though you are toughing it out, your imprisonment has fucked with your mind, and you feel weak. You keep having to remind yourself that all this is real.
You look over your shoulder to check Otto’s expression. He’s worried, but keeps craning his neck as if to spot something up ahead.
“Otto, you better come with me to the mansion”, you say with a raspy voice. “Everything is fucked on both sides, but at least you won’t have to suffer the ire of that self-hating, unfairly strong idiot.”
“But who will lead the people, Mr. Natsuki?” He chuckles nervously. “Just a little joke. Of course, I’d rather stay out of trouble, Mr. Natsuki, and I look forward to basking in the sun while that kind, too young trainee serves me soft drinks. But we need to reach our own sanctuary first!”
You feel the pain in your chest, but laugh. The mansion is, of course, no sanctuary of any kind, as it will be overrun by horrible killers soon, if it hasn’t been already. For the first time since Otto broke you out from prison, you wonder if it’s time for you to die.
“Why are you laughing, Mr. Natsuki?”
“I just thought of something funny. I’ll tell you when we’re safe, promise.”
Otto nods silently. He turns to look over his shoulder briefly, then leans forward and squints his eyes. He points with a rigid arm to the treeline in front and to the right of you both.
“There it is!”
In the darkness between two tree trunks dances a ball of light, a will-o’-the-wisp, which mesmerizes you until Patrasche is about to pass it by. That light comes from a lamp that a half-cat villager is holding. A chill runs through your back, as your body believes that you need to defend yourself against an ambush, but the villager motions for you to hurry along the path. After you leave him behind, another lamp lights up in the path ahead.
“What’s going on?”, you ask Otto, confused.
“It’s an escort. They light up the path for us, so we don’t fall into a ditch or something.”
Light after light, you speed up alongside the villager houses and long stretches of farms and grazing fields until you are rushing past them at great speed. With a look back, you see the lights growing smaller and smaller, some already extinguished.
“Most of Sanctuary has gone out into the forest to guide us through the paths along the village to the barrier! Not only lord Roswaal’s villagers, but the locals as well!”, Otto says close to your ear. “They just want to help!”
You choke up. Why would they help you like this? Why would they care? You haven’t done anything of value for them. You haven’t been anything but trouble for everyone.
As those bright lights pass you by in the darkness of this cloudy night, your mind falls into a dreamlike state. You remember many instances of sitting on the back of your dad’s car during night trips, watching the streetlights pass by behind the windows. You are exhausted, weakened and on edge due to having been imprisoned, and you feel that the only thing that is keeping you going is the knowledge that you have gone through much worse.
As the memories of your past world were about to bring tears to your eyes, above the rushing wind you hear loud booms and cracks coming from the forest to your right and behind you, as if trees were falling into others or breaking like branches. The cacophony is increasing, and you get the sense that something huge is trampling through the forest, gaining ground on a parallel path.
“Otto, are you hearing that!?”, you shout.
You twist your neck to look around behind you, but the treeline is too tall. The only evidence of something huge moving through, apart from the noise, are birds that are taking flight and then flying in circles above the area as if they don’t dare come down.
“Unfortunately I can hear it loud and clear, Mr. Natsuki!”, he answers in a state of agitation. “We are getting close to the barrier, that same point where our dear lady Emilia fell unconscious! Let’s forget about the ominous uproar and hope for the best!”
The sound of destruction becomes louder and louder, shaking you up even more than you already are. What could be powerful enough to topple trees of that size?
You reach a straight stretch of the path enclosed by the forest, and you recall seeing it when you first travelled to Sanctuary. Even though the barrier is invisible, you must be less than a minute away from it. There is a group of human villagers gathered like the crowd at the end of a race. You recognize a shirtless guy, the only one who doesn’t care about catching a cold on this chilly night. He’s holding a makeshift lance, and others are also armed. As soon as they notice you, they wave and extend their lamps towards the path up ahead.
The booms and cracks have become deafening. You don’t want to look, but you sense the trees shaking not far from the treeline to your right. Suddenly, as if something was charging, you hear a quick succession of bursts and shaking leaves heading in a diagonal towards the gathered crowd, and then a tree trunk slams down hard on the path a few meters in front of you as if pushed.
Patrasche tries to brake, reclining her back to an extent that you hug her neck to avoid flying off, but as the ground dragon was turning, her flank crashes against the tree trunk, and you find yourself sailing in an arc until you hit the ground hard and roll for a few meters.
The earth shakes from another impact; a tree falling. You struggle to stand up as quickly as you can. Your body hurts like hell, particularly your ribcage, and you have trouble keeping the air in. You stagger around on your wobbly legs trying to get your bearings.
“Run, Mr. Natsuki!”, the pained voice of your friend Otto comes from your right. A curtain of blood running down from his forehead has forced him to close one eye, but he’s pointing at the path to your left. “The barrier is just up ahead! Sprint and don’t stop!”
A massive tremor knocks you off your feet again. Two of the trees of the line a few meters in front of you are pushed aside as if they were bushes, and a figure as tall as the trees and as wide as five tree trunks emerges out of the darkness. You find yourself staring up at a huge anthropomorphic tiger that stands on two feet. Its fur is light blonde with black stripes, except on parts of the head, the torso and the insides of the arms, where it’s skin-colored. The muscles are obscenely swollen even for such a gigantic frame, and parts of its wide torso and bulging arms are covered in gashes as if slashed by a massive blade. In its head, the eyes are bloodshot with murderous rage, but a spot between its eyes and slightly above attracts your attention. There’s a huge patch of scarred skin, as if the tiger had hit its head hard repeatedly against something and then scratched the skin raw.
The tiger opens its enormous maw and roars at you, piercing your eardrums, showering you with warm saliva.
Before you know it you have stood up, and although you are retreating, not fast enough for a tiger man that is looking at you as if in a few seconds it’s going to lunge at you and rip you apart.
“Did you kill Ram, Garfiel…?”, you ask with a trembling, hoarse voice.
The tiger man exhales loudly through its nostrils, hunches over and walks towards you. The strength of its steps alone would crush a person like a bug. When it would take the tiger man lunging forward to grab you, it raises its left arm, twists its torso and opens its clawed paw as if to take a swipe at you.
Otto yells in surprise. You are paralyzed as you stare at the huge paw that comes towards you, but someone pushes you out of the way, and a disturbance in the air makes you spin. You hear a loud, wet splashing sound, a big insect crashing against a windshield, and another liquid hits you as if someone had thrown the contents of a bucket at you. When you lift your gaze again, a bunch of mangled body parts fall on the patches of grass and the dirt. As if the clothes that some of the remains are wearing weren’t enough to identify who they belong to, Otto’s head hits the dirt and rolls, its eyes and mouth open in surprise.
You panic. You can’t think of anything but fleeing from the gigantic tiger man that just made Otto explode, but you don’t want to turn around and run, because you need to keep the monster in your sight. Someone pushes you further down the path, towards the barrier. You suddenly find yourself surrounded by the villagers who had gathered to send you off. You see the determined, yet terrified, face of the shirtless teen, who is wielding a makeshift lance as if he intends to defeat that monster. Other villagers, most of them past their forties, are either throwing rocks at the tiger man’s head, shouting at it or steeling themselves to spear it when they have the chance.
“Monster!”, the teen yells at Garfiel. “Horrible beast! Get back!”
The monster roars. You see its muscles bulge as it moves for a man with a spear, who backs away in panic, only to freeze when he meets the cold metal gaze of the monster. The spearman screams as the claw reaches for him, then slams into the man’s side. The villagers look on in shock as the man’s organs are sent flying into the air.
You can barely feel your legs as you keep retreating. What are you people doing?, you want to ask. Don’t you see that the monster is going to kill you? Why are you fighting instead of fleeing? Nobody else needs to die, not for me. I’m the one who dies so nobody else has to.
A man in his fifties thrusts his lance against the tiger man’s torso, but it breaks as soon at it hits the skin. Garfiel lifts his leg above the man and stomps on him, crushing him against the ground in a burst of blood and guts as if he were less than a can. A teen screams in a panic while running to the dead man’s rescue, only to get torn a part by the swinging blow of a gigantic paw. As Garfiel moves forward, the paw that had crushed that man lifts into the air with a fair portion of guts, which fall over the ground.
The monster lets out a roar that shakes your body, then begins a true massacre. Blood stains the dirt and grass red while guts and intestines litter the ground like fallen leaves. Legs, arms and other parts that you can’t identify are scattered, adding to the mess of blood and guts.
You can’t feel your body, you can’t tell what you are doing, until you feel someone grabbing the back of your shirt and pulling you in that direction as if you were a child. You see Patrasche’s tail moving alongside your legs as she drags you towards the barrier. Garfiel has killed every single villager, and as if emboldened by the carnage, is now charging towards you. Patrasche notices it, and twists her body to launch you into the air towards the barrier. You find yourself sailing backwards in an arc as you hold Patrasche’s gaze. Your ground dragon is standing there as if making sure that you fall out of danger.
You remember a moment from your past, what seems like very long ago, when you had been walking down a line of ground dragons to choose your first one, only for this weird female to lick your cheek with her rough tongue. You then noticed her properly for the first time: her black, slick scales except for her brown chest and belly, and in her elongated head, those bright orange eyes that looked at you with a fondness you had done nothing to earn.
As you are about to hit the ground, a white glow escapes out of the pocket of your shirt where you put Frederica’s magic crystal, threatening to blind you. Garfiel reaches your ground dragon and stomps on her, bursting Patrasche against the dirt.
The glowing whiteness engulfs you.

Roleplaying through “Re:Zero” with the GPT-3 story generator (Part 59)

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

In the previous entry, the protagonist could hardly care less about playing his role in the repeating events, and although he wanted nothing more than to lose himself having sex over and over with the half-elf princess, he stalked Garfiel to reveal further secrets about their dreary village. He ended up finding out that there is more than one twelve year old grandma, and his nosiness, along with his body odor issues, landed him in a dungeon. Garfiel turned out to be intelligent enough to prevent the protagonist from killing himself.


If Garfiel had understood one thing about your argument is that you truly want to die, and he’s determined to avoid that all costs. You figure that it must be because if you die under their care and Roswaal ends up finding out somehow, the clown will descend upon Ryuzu and the whole power structure of Sanctuary, which belongs in his ancestral domain. Killing someone who orchestrated an assault against an entire branch and the Witch’s Cult, which ended up defeating it, doesn’t look good, unless you want to seem as if you belong to the Witch’s Cult yourself. So this new Ryuzu and Garfiel need to present what they believe to be significant findings of your betrayal to Roswaal while you stand around like an idiot, fully alive.
You can’t tell the hour of the day, and you are too worried thinking about ways to die or to escape from this place to count how much time has passed. Garfiel comes personally to see you eat slop, and he stands there way too close as you piss and shit into a bucket. It’s as humiliating as they come, but it doesn’t seem to bother him much. He grew up around farm animals, after all. Plenty of times you wanted to bite down hard on your tongue, but this punk would just restrain you, cure your tongue even if just with bandages of some kind, and at the end of the day you’d be more restrained but lacking part of your tongue.
Before Garfiel leaves you, he always stuffs a dirty rag in your damn mouth, big enough that you can’t bite yourself, and then the punk leaves you alone for a few hours. You either wander around while restrained, with your hands tied behind your back, trying to figure out creative ways to use stone walls, stone floors, or metal bars, as suicide devices, or you lie on the floor and just think about how much you want to die. It’s getting truly unpleasant and harmful to your mental health. You can’t just bash your head against the wall over and over like apparently the punk does from time to time, because you might get so stupid that you will forget that you have to kill yourself to return to the past, or you might end up in a coma for months or years.
You also keep thinking about Emilia. Your imagination plays out scenes in which the half-elf discovers you’ve gone missing, and she focuses entirely on searching through the village, maybe door to door, as well as through the surrounding forest, having enlisted the help of most of Roswaal’s villagers. Maybe of some locals as well. But she will never find you, you know that much. You imagine the beautiful face of that girl who loves you and whom you love back, scared and worried sick. You get sick yourself, and end up vomiting twice thinking about it.
You try to sleep, but you barely string a couple of hours together each time, or what feel like a couple of hours anyway. You shiver from worry. This must be hell, eternal punishment for your crimes against the capital, the kingdom, Rem, human decency… You can’t even remember what good you have done, but the evil has been so strong that it overwhelmed whatever good you might have done. Your life is a curse on this world, and now you are being punished for it.
Just as you are about to give up on sleep and enter a state of full alertness, the door is unlocked. It opens grating against the stone floor. You have no idea what time it is. Garfiel enters with a lit torch in one hand, and some bread and water in the other.
“Get up, half-pint.”
“Nah, I’m good”, you say with a raspy voice.
“This is exactly why you’re locked up. Y’know that?”
Your lips feel all dry and chapped.
“I’m sorry I tried to expose your village’s secrets to the public, even though I never found out anything significant.”
Sneering at you, Garfiel drops the bread and water next to you, and moves the torch closer to your face.
“I already told ya, doesn’t matter ta me. Got my orders, same as ya got some others from that clown bastard, and from whatever big boss types at that damn cult. Ya and me are justa couple of fools doin’ what they’ve been told.”
You wait while Garfiel unties your hands so you can shove the stale bread into your mouth. Despite the poor meal that awaits you, it makes you salivate.
“I guess I have to repeat that I’m not a witch cultist”, you say. “Just in case you come up with some bullshit about how not denying it means admitting it.”
“Yeah, not changin’ me mind”, Garfiel says with an unemotional voice. “Yer clown lord will have to deal with that when the shy princess passes them trials.”
The punk finishes untying your hands. Your legs are so numb that you can’t feel them at all. You stand up and have to hop as you try to walk it off.
“Don’t you want to kill me?”
Garfiel shrugs.
“Killin’s too good for scum like you.”
He gives you a poisonous glare, but after your leg stops throbbing you jump at him with a flying punch. It lands on his cheek, and he stumbles back a little. Even though you are still groggy, your instincts take over. Both of your weights clash, but you manage to overpower Garfiel and throw him on the stone floor. However, he soon regains control of the situation as his hands grips your shoulders like a vice. He’s barely using any of his strength, and it clearly amuses him. With a smirk, he flicks you over and then jumps on you with an elbow pressed against your neck. You want to cough, but you can’t. Garfiel stares at you with a hard look.
“Yer not only tryin’ to best the strongest man in the damn world, but someone who grew up wrestlin’ with Frederica! Damn fool!”
“No, don’t suggest this is wrestling”, you push through your throat.
“What are ya sayin’?”
“I’m suggesting that you might be enjoying pinning me a bit too much.”
A punch flies into your stomach and your body convulses on the ground, expelling all of the air in your lungs.
“Don’t say shit like that! Why the hell would I wanna fuck a damn cultist?”
You can barely speak in between coughs.
“I don’t think that’s the issue here…”, you mumble.
“Damn right, it’s not!” He laughs. “Alright, I’ll let ya go. Yer gonna listen to me and follow the damn rules, though.”
“As if I have a fucking choice. Attacking you only brightened your mood.”
When Garfiel stands up, you sit up to cough and rub your neck a bit, taking in a breath.
“Alright, rules.” He says, leaning in, “One, don’t try anythin’. Two, ya try anythin’, I hurt ya family. Three, don’t think I won’t. Four, if ya try anythin’ again and I hurt yer damn family anyway.”
You sigh and stand up while Garfiel backs away.
“Yeah, good luck finding my parents. If you manage to do so, I’ll be so astonished I won’t care even if you punch my dad in the face.”
“Fuck yer dad.”
“Now I’m worried you might. People shouldn’t grow up wrestling, Garfiel.”
A smirk creeps on his face.
“Alright then, I guess that’s it.”
As the punk walked back to what passes for your meal, as if ordering you to shut up and eat, you find the strength to ask what you will regret knowing.
“How is Emilia doing?”
Garfiel shrugs, but then looks away as if having to speak about it is both embarrassing and painful.
“She ain’t eatin’ right nor tryin’ to pass them trials, that’s fer sure.”
“So… what? Is that it?”
“She cries a lot too. Won’t look anyone in the eye either.”
There’s a moment of silence as you feel as if someone has just poured cold water over you. Even though you already had a feeling about how she was doing, it doesn’t make the confirmation sting any less.
“This is the fault of both of you idiots”, you say with a low, growly voice. “You are keeping me locked up because of a misunderstanding, and your condition to release me will never happen! Emilia will only get worse and worse. My lovely girl… You didn’t seem like you were against Emilia, so don’t you feel like shit for doing this to her?”
“No.”
“What?”
“No! I ain’t gonna feel like shit fer doin’ anythin’ that protects my home!”
“You sound like an asshole.”
“An’ ya sound like a pussy, all prisoner like!”
Garfiel glares at you for a moment, and then he shakes his head and motions for you to turn around.
“Why the fuck for?”, you ask, freaked out due to the recent conversation.
“I’m tying ya again. I thought ‘bout it, and ya punched me in the face. That means no meal for now. Not that I minded the fight, but ya gotta have some order ‘round here!”

You lose track of how many times you have dozed off, half-lost in waking nightmares in which Emilia cries and cries as she runs through a darkened forest. You wish to shout that you are here, so she can finally find you and hug you tightly, but you can barely mumble with the nasty rag that fills your mouth.
Your mind snaps back to reality as you hear a key entering the metallic door of your cell, and then unlocking it. The door opens as if pushed, grating loudly against the stone floor. Someone complains in what you suppose should have barely sounded above the background noise of the forest outside, but it comes out as a worried muttering. You turn on the floor to find yourself staring at Otto Suwen, who has crouched next to you and is surveying your state as if he has to figure out quick whether you even remain sane.
You are too dumbfounded to react. Otto helps you sit up and is cutting through the restraints around your wrists. You try to speak, but you forgot that you’ve been tasting the same nasty rag for hours. The merchant takes off the cord around your mouth, then he extracts the wet rag while grimacing in disgust.
“Otto…? I’m hallucinating, am I?”, you ask with a raspy voice.
“I wish you were, Mr. Natsuki! In such a case you wouldn’t have ended up living through such a terrifying experience! But I’m afraid that you were indeed kidnapped and locked up by the two most powerful people in this forgotten village. We need to get you out of here as soon as possible!”
Otto throws the ropes to the floor, then looks behind him as if fearing that Garfiel will barrel towards him at any moment.
You can barely think straight.
“But… But… How did you find me? And who let you in?”
Otto slowly turns his head towards you. You have never seen him with such a serious expression on his face.
“It wasn’t easy, that’s for sure. I had to enlist the help of every critter and insect that wanted to speak to me in this forest. We kept tabs on Garfiel’s comings and goings, and I even convinced a charming bat to find his way through this building until he spotted you. He really saved both of our asses, Mr. Natsuki. I took a risk by entering this place, but I figure that the terrifying hick won’t return for a while. I don’t want to think about how enraged he’ll become then…”
Otto extends his hand towards you, and you grab it. With one powerful pull, he lifts you off the floor.
You begin to feel dizzy and lightheaded, or maybe you just realize that you have been for quite a while. The meals that Garfiel fed you weren’t meant to fill you with energy, merely to keep you alive. You support yourself on Otto’s shoulder.
“I’m so glad that your delusions about hearing and speaking with animals ended up helping me by some miracle.”
“Delusions!? I swear I can communicate with animals, and even insects, Mr. Natsuki! I was born with that ability, which I only started considering a blessing during these last few years! I couldn’t stop myself from hearing them, and it made my life a living hell as a child. Lost my place in the family business! You wouldn’t believe how little respect the animal life has for quiet. They are very useful, though, when you manage to befriend some of them. Otherwise we would have never tracked you down in time. Still, I would stay away from wasps if I were you.”
“I was never a fan of wasps even in my previous world. Nasty little fuckers…”
Although you attempt to free your legs from the rope binding them, you are weakened, and you end up supporting yourself again on the merchant’s shoulder as he crouches down to tear the rope off. When he stands up again, he wipes the sweat from his forehead.
You have barely exited the dungeon into a stone hallway, which looks ancient but not as much as the witches’ tomb, when you stop Otto. Something isn’t sitting well with you.
“Otto, why are you here? How come you ended up searching for me, locating me, freeing me…? Did Roswaal put you up to this?”
Otto stares at you confused.
“I’m not sure what you mean. As soon as we realized you had gone missing, I went looking for you. It soon became clear that Garfiel in particular had something to do with it. The man wouldn’t make a good spy, let’s put it that way. So me and Ram teamed up to follow him, and it was through my animal and insect friends, or acquaintances more accurately, as we aren’t that close yet, that we ended up locating this building that had been clearly built to remain hidden!”
“I got the gist of that, but… why would you want to go through all that trouble for me?”
Otto snaps his head back, shocked. He then avoids your gaze while his eyebrows tremble nervously.
“It’s obvious, is it not? Are you truly going to make me say something embarrassing?”
“I mean, yeah, I am, because I don’t have a fucking clue what you are talking about.”
Otto sighs, then forces himself to hold your gaze.
“You have the right to be confused, and you have remained much more sane than I had expected… But my reasons for freeing you from imprisonment are as obvious as they come! You are my dear friend, Mr. Natsuki.”
You stare at him as he smiles weakly, waiting for you to say something.
“Well?”, Otto asks cautiously.
A smile grows by itself on your lips, and you double over to burst into laughter. When you manage to control yourself, you straighten your back and pat Otto’s shoulders, who looks as if you are making him the butt of a joke.
“Alright, alright, Mr. Natsuki! We all make ourselves look like fools from time to time!”
“No, that’s not it. I guess we have gone through bonding stuff you and I, huh? Drinking ourselves stupid while I revealed my nightmares about sharing a bath with Roswaal, me trying to show you my dick…”
“T-Those are things I would rather forget!”
You grin.
“What I mean is, thank you for being my friend, Otto Suwen.”
Otto takes off his merchant hat and combs his incongruously gray hair with his hand as a nervous gesture. He’s having trouble holding your gaze.
You pat him on the back and motion for both of you to keep going.
“Well, alright, you son of a gun! Let’s get out of here and make them pay!”
“I hope that ‘gun’ word isn’t an insult towards my mother! I’m feeling somewhat sensitive at the moment.”

Otto is guiding you through the dense forest, striding through it as if he was following an invisible arrow on the grass. The moonlight barely passes through the dense canopy. Occasionally Otto lifts his gaze to an insistent cluster of dragonflies that flies towards the merchant, then further into the forest, then back again… You are going to end up going along with his delusion if this continues.
A few minutes later you notice someone waiting near a tree. It’s none other than your favorite senior servant Ram. Her demeanor reminds you of a soldier on guard duty, despite her wearing a black and white servant outfit that shows plenty of those slender, stockinged legs. As you get closer you realize that she’s holding the reins of Patrasche, your ground dragon, who is standing behind the senior servant.
When Ram realizes that the merchant has returned with a freed prisoner no less, she nods towards him.
“Excellent work, Mr. Suwen.”
Otto scratches the back of his head, he smiles and was about to reply something when you interrupt him.
“You better engrave this moment in your mind, Otto. I have never witnessed our dear Ram being so appreciative of someone.”
To your temporary confusion, Ram isn’t annoyed by your comment, but nods at you and bends the corners of her mouth a little.
“In the somewhat unlikely case that your follower ended up succeeding at his perilous task, Barusu, I would have expected him to bring me a broken man. But apart from the horrid stench of sweat and bodily filth, you seem sprightly.”
You shrug.
“I could complain about the food and how hard it gets to sleep properly when you can’t tell the hour of the day, or how many days have passed for that matter. What’s the plan now, Ram?”
As you ask this, you start rubbing the dragon’s snout, who closes her eyes.
“The village is on the verge of rebellion, Barusu”, Ram says calmly. “Our villagers aren’t too happy about one of the lord’s employees having disappeared under mysterious circumstances, and that idiot Garfiel couldn’t seem more suspicious. After all, our villagers have been restrained in Sanctuary against their will, but were hoping for a speedy and peaceful resolution. Although the local villagers don’t like the commotion, plenty are coming over to our side. Lord Roswaal intends for you to pass through the barrier and return to the mansion. Once you are out of danger, we will reveal that you were kidnapped, and some will pay the consequences.”
“Ram… How is Emilia doing with all this? Garfiel himself told me that she wasn’t attempting to pass the trials, and that she must be seriously depressed.”
“Lady Emilia should be sleeping in Ryuzu Bilma’s guest room right now. We won’t attempt to inform her of the changing circumstances until you are out of trouble. Our half-elf princess needs to be handled with care, as usual.”
Ram’s tone evidences that she considers Emilia too weak and unstable for her tastes, but then again few people are as tough and stoic as your senior servant.
“Please, make Emilia know that I’m safe as soon as you can. There are few things I hate more in the world than that girl suffering.”
“Barusu, a child would realize that you hold feelings for our royal candidate. But please understand that at this moment she is no longer the Emilia you knew, and won’t be until she recovers. She’s as close to a nervous breakdown as an intelligent being can be. She truly requires you to be by her side, to an unhealthy degree.”
You sigh, and as you recall the faint ghost of how it felt like to embrace her under the covers, as well as hear her quiet, loving voice pouring into your ear, your heart hurts.
“Yeah, I know. She and I need to work on that, as soon as people around us don’t risk getting kidnapped, or murdered.”
Ram takes a deep breath, then checks your surroundings.
“I hate to end this heartwarming moment, but we must go. You will have no choice but to use the main paths of the village to escape, and you will depend on your ground dragon’s speed and reliability in case any of the local threats focus on you.”
Not waiting for you to agree, Ram starts walking towards the edge of the forest, which is visible from your position despite how close the trees are to each other. You catch up to the senior servant’s side, while Otto follows you both right by Patrasche’s tail.
“Ram, I won’t leave without speaking with Roswaal first.”
Ram shoots you a look of annoyance, which comforts you.
“I can’t be that surprised that you plan on making your escape more difficult than necessary, Barusu”, she says with a tired voice.
“I don’t want to bother you, Ram, and I appreciate everything you have done for me in this reality and in others, but I truly need to clarify certain stuff with our clown overlord. So please, let’s meet with him as soon as possible.”
“Your choice, Barusu. I’m sure you would keep insisting stubbornly otherwise. I will brief you on the full situation in the village during our walk there… But you must promise me that you will leave as soon as possible after that.”
“Yeah, I will. I need to reach the mansion anyway.” You turn to Otto, who has deflated since his heroic rescue. “You will finally get to meet the possible employer who will lead you to a life of luxury, Otto. Make a decent impression.”
Otto chuckles nervously. The cheerful merchant front he puts up in the presence of others is cracking. Despite his many travels he’s still nervous, and with good reason.
“The best first impression I can create in these circumstances is not to delay your escape any further, Mr. Natsuki, and I intend to do just that.”

Now that the three of you are standing inside of the discreet villager house that your clown lord chose to rest from his ghastly injuries, Otto has taken off his merchant hat and is holding it against his torso while bowing slightly. The disquiet in his expression makes you wonder if he regrets his current ambition of getting closer to this important lord to secure himself some lasting employment. After all, you doubt there are many sane people out there who could face Roswaal’s clown face and not realize immediately that they should have remained as far away from your lord as possible.
Roswaal has taken a curious interest in Otto, maybe wondering how he ended up involved in such vital and secretive matters for his household, but his demeanour isn’t threatening. From the angle you are looking now at Roswaal, his painted features over the white foundation make his face seem like made out of rubber, as if a child’s doll was infused with life.
You want to make things less awkward and move the meeting along, so you motion towards Otto.
“This is Otto Suwen, a regular young merchant we rescued from the cultists during the attack, and who has been working hard at fulfilling both my and Emilia’s unreasonable requests ever since. I quite like the fellow, and I figure that we can use a semi-permanent transport guy who also does odd jobs. It also happens that he rescued me single-handedly from a dungeon, so he’s a true bro. I request that at some point after this bullshit is over, we bring him into our household.”
“Do you agree with this statement, young Suwen?”, Roswaal asks with his lilting voice while smiling welcomingly at the merchant.
Otto quickly puts on a serious face befitting of one under scrutiny.
“Mr. Natsuki has stated nothing but the truth, as usual. Indeed, the half-beast mercenaries under his command rescued me from a nasty death, so I would owe him my loyalty for that alone, but it just happens that he has also blessed me with trust and friendship. If you allow me, I will serve the greater interests of your household, including securing the lovely lady Emilia’s prospects as the future ruler of this kingdom!”
Roswaal nods as if satisfied.
“I graciously accept your request to join us, Otto Suwen. You may now address me as your lord and master. I hope you continue supporting us with the immediate, troublesome matter at hand: making sure Subaru isn’t captured again.”
“Understood, my lord”, he sputters out, already intimidated by your powerful ally.
Roswaal turns his attention to you, which makes you as uneasy as usual. Your mind probably must be running in the background the question of why would anyone do that to his own face and then interact with people.
“Now, Subaru, why would have Garfiel decided to imprison you? I have known him to be quite the handful ever since he grew strong enough to assert his power, and yet I have never seen him act this unreasonably.”
“Our personal lioness, that Frederica, had suggested that there were secrets to discover in Sanctuary beyond the fact that it’s surrounded by a magical barrier that can only be lifted by passing the trials. I hoped that learning more would reveal some loophole that would allow us to get Emilia out, I mean without her having to break her mind facing the past. But I ended up talking to a different Ryuzu. It seems there are at least three identical-looking ones, and she determined that I must be a witch cultist.”
“Witch cultist? How so?”
“I mean, it’s because I smell like Satella”, you answer cautiously. “Or so they say. A scent that apparently never goes away no matter how many showers I take. Although now that I stink like sweat, piss and shit, I wonder if that does the trick…”
“That troublesome Witch of Envy, despite having died four hundred years ago, her influence lingers on in this world for people to catch a whiff of her scent. I see, it was a misunderstanding. However, both Garfiel and that Ryuzu, who I guess is the one calling herself Ryuzu Shima, acted rashly, and they will have to be punished for it.”
“That’s fine and all, Roswaal, but you knew that there were different Ryuzus?”
Roswaal plasters a smile on his face even though he seems deep in thought.
“You must understand that we are guests in a territory that used to belong to the magnificent Echidna, the Witch of Greed, and in a way it still does. Her relentless pursuit of the truths of this world left us, after Echidna’s untimely, unfortunate passing, with many unique wonders. We don’t have time to speak at length on the matter, but you should know that some of the Ryuzu are what one would consider self-determined individuals, and as such they can have conflicting agendas.”
“What’s the agenda of this Ryuzu Shima?”
Roswaal looks to the side as if to find the right word, then he nods and looks up at you.
“Insubordination.”
As you try to think quickly about the vital information you would need to secure before Garfiel locates you, you keep coming back to Beatrice. You know that Roswaal will not be able to help you stop the contract killers, given that he had asserted that nobody would have a reason to pay people to kill you, let alone the best contract killer in the kingdom, or possibly the world. Frederica and Petra would agree to escape if you explain the situation to them, but Beatrice would resist stubbornly, which would end up with her getting killed whether before or after you, because you would stay around until the last moment to convince her. You wouldn’t be surprised if you spent an entire run, as soon as you reached the mansion, arguing with the kooky librarian for her to follow you to safety, but she would resist even your attempts at physically dragging her out. And she didn’t even defend herself when the obviously murderous Elsa stepped into your librarian’s domain.
But should you even save her? You want to, for sure, because you already liked her, but if she’s a cultist like her hidden Gospel suggests, then you would be saving the life of someone who at the very least is a spy for a group that intends to resurrect Satella through murdering Emilia. How would Roswaal have missed Beatrice’s true nature, when she has been guarding the library for hundreds of years? Maybe she only turned recently. Maybe she never turned at all, and this is all a misunderstanding. You don’t want to kill her, but you don’t want to die at the hands of a killer, and you probably would if you let your guard down around her.
“Roswaal…”, you start, “This will come out of nowhere, but I found out that Beatrice is hiding a Gospel. That’s how she herself called it. And she admitted that the book mattered to her more than almost anything else except for whoever that Mother of hers was supposed to be. Petelgeuse himself acted similarly when it came to his own book, so that has me all worried.”
To your surprise, Roswaal looks amused.
“Hm, you make a fine point. It would be foolish to assume that just because she has such an item she is an enemy, but it would also be foolish to not take this into consideration. What kind of relationship have you developed with our little librarian to have discovered such a guarded secret?”
“Before I found out about her Gospel, I would have told you that Beatrice and I are friends of sorts, although I doubt she would think so. That hundreds of years old girl is in need of some company, that much is obvious. And she also taught me a magic spell. The thought of her being our enemy really fucked with me.”
“Would you truly be ready to deal with our powerful great spirit as an enemy?”
You can’t tell the clown’s intention under all that makeup.
“When I learned about the Gospel I was certain she was one, but the more I think about it and the more I think about her, the less sure I am. Not even sure if I should trust my own judgement anymore…”
“Thankfully I can remove your worries. What you found is commonly called a Gospel, for lack of an original name, and yet we aren’t speaking of the same kind of item as the books those witch cultists handle.”
You don’t find that reassuring.
“How is it different?”, you ask nervously. “She seemed obsessed with it the same way a cultist would.”
“What our dear librarian has in her possession is one of the most powerful magic tomes in the world, of which only two copies are known to exist. It’s the closest thing to a Tome of Knowledge that has been discovered. It predicts, in terms at times frustratingly general, the probable futures of its owner and the paths to achieve them.”
You snap your head back, and your hands tingle at the thought that not only you live now in a world where such a book exists, but that someone who shares your home would have it. You shake your head.
“Wait a second, Petelgeuse also claimed that his Gospel allowed him to predict the future! So Beatrice’s book is the same thing!”
The clown stares at you in silence for a moment, as if allowing you to come to the proper conclusion by yourself, but eventually he sighs.
“Those thing are a fraud, neither real Gospels nor Tomes of Knowledge. They generate possible futures, which stimulates the imagination and determination of unhinged people and makes those books very dangerous in their hands, but they only give those people powers beyond comprehension in their dreams. I assure you, those books you know as Gospels are only aspiring to become what our dear Beatrice possesses, and the true Gospel isn’t associated with the Witch’s Cult.”
You want to surrender to the relief that is running through your body, but even though you lift your hand to your heart, you press the clown further.
“How sure are you about it?”
The clown stares intently at you.
“I am very sure.”
“So Beatrice isn’t a cultist?”
Roswaal smiles widely, which he must intend to be a reassuring expression.
“She isn’t.”
You give in. You have been learning about this world as you struggled to survive its many dangers, and you only have what people say or what you are forced to face as the facts to build your strategies on. You accept it, then: Beatrice is a friend. But she won’t be for much longer if you don’t save her life.
You step forward, and you hope that your expression will evidence the seriousness of your incoming request.
“I have reasons to believe that Beatrice will be in mortal danger. Tell me, Roswaal, is there any way to convince her to leave her library and follow me to safety?”
“That’s an interesting question… Why would you try to convince Beatrice to abandon her sanctuary, of all places, and expose herself to danger?”
“Because she will die if she doesn’t.”
“Mm… Then perhaps you should convince me.”
You have never been a smoothtalker, a charmer, or even a guy that others go to for advice. But you know how to show your true feelings, and you let them shine now: either he trusts you or Beatrice will die.
“We are too short on time, Roswaal. I work for you as well as for Emilia, and I have proven my intentions enough that you decided to knight me. Please, trust me on this. If I don’t get Beatrice out of her library, we will lose her. I’ve grown too fond of the little shit for that.”
Roswaal closes his eyes and sighs.
“You know how to get your way, Subaru, which has served you well so far. Then listen to this: once you face Beatrice, tell her ‘Roswaal said to ask the question’. Once she does, answer her, ‘I am that person’.”
“That’s all?”
“When you do so, Beatrice will become your ally. She will have no choice. Trust me on this.”
You stand there looking down, thinking about what you might have forgotten to ask, when Ram clears her throat. She has crossed her arms and is staring at you with a strict determination.
“If you are done, Barusu, we need to move. Ryuzu has eyes everywhere, so it’s unlikely that we won’t come across Garfiel along the way. To minimize the possibility, we should have already left.”
“Hey, I survived having him as a jailer, didn’t I?”
“You have not seen what Garfiel is capable of, Barusu. He’s equal to an entire army of warriors.”
As you say your goodbyes and leave the house, you consider Ram’s words. That punk might not be the strongest man in the world as he desperately needs to believe, but he’s tough enough that combined with his grudge against the world, he will have few concerns against lashing out. And if Garfiel prevents you from reaching Roswaal’s mansion, you will have to suffer through having abandoned your friends, as well as your beloved demon servant, to die again.

Roleplaying through “Re:Zero” with the GPT-3 story generator (Part 58)

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

In the previous entry we learned that the hundreds of years old librarian Beatrice didn’t want the protagonist to leave her behind, but then she realized that she didn’t know him after all, so he might as well die. The lovely miss Granhiert interrupted their argument and made the protagonist leave permanently by crushing his throat.


You would have never thought that waking up in a magically lighted tomb, where a hundreds of years old ghost psychologically tortures people with ultrarealistic simulations, would make you feel relieved, but after you bring saliva back to your dry mouth, you turn around on the floor and focus on breathing deeply while you stare at the blue-dyed stone roof, at the myriad of tiny cracks that have opened in them over the centuries.
You don’t think you noticed Emilia’s irregular breathing before. You crawl towards the half-elf, as she lies face down near the center of the antechamber. You turn her towards you, then hug her. You run your fingers through her hair while whatever witch-induced nightmare causes her facial muscles to twitch against your skin. You could do this over and over, you think. You could spend your eternity in this loop, waking up next to Emilia in these ruins and doing little else than have sex over and over with her in Ryuzu’s house, only to kill yourself three or four days later.

After you exit the witches’ tomb carrying Emilia’s body, you barely bother to answer questions or react to the theatre play that the people you know are performing for your amusement. You could recite some of their lines as well. Once Emilia is loaded unconscious onto the back of the carriage, you sit next to Otto on the driver’s seat.
For a couple of minutes, as your merchant pal drives you all back towards Ryuzu’s house, you close your eyes and enjoy the calm of not having to face the worst contract killer in the world, nor escape from random monsters, nor face that your friends Ram and Frederica died for your sake. The world seems so peaceful. You suspect that if you focus on hearing the breeze for a while you will start crying from the relief of having nothing to fear.
“Mr. Natsuki, are you alright…?”, Otto asks warily from your left.
You open your eyes, and it takes you a couple of seconds to register that Otto is looking at you and waiting for a reply.
“I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
He raises an eyebrow as if trying to figure out if you are joking around.
“Because lady Emilia is half unconscious, half delirious, of course.” He chuckles nervously. “I mean, had you ever seen the princess in such a state? I don’t understand how you can be so calm.”
You sigh, then scrape the tip of your shoe against the floor of the driver’s seat.
“She’ll be alright, old pal. She always is. She’s stuck in her old ways, and we haven’t found a way out of her childhood issues, but maybe we’ll figure something.”
“I don’t think I know what you mean, Mr. Natsuki! We first need to make sure Emilia snaps out of her current state!”
“Yes, yes. I know that part quite well. Just focus on the road, will you? I’m aching to eat an unhealthy amount of those cinnamon cookies.”
Otto blinks in confusion, but obeys you and stops bothering you with pointless questions.
You pat him on the shoulder. Otto’s a good guy. Trustworthy and a hard worker. His humbleness is almost as annoying as his tendency to shout during regular conversations, apart from that whole delusion about being able to speak to animals. But seeing him, as well as the rest of the actors in this play, shortly after you start all over again makes you smile.

Once Emilia is resting in Ryuzu’s guest bed, you sit down in your usual place at the living room table and let the others repeat their lines while you drink the tasty tea and eat the elf’s cookies. Right now you don’t care about anything else. And it’s so nice to know that you don’t have to care about anything for a while, you can just let the world breathe on its own.
Well, you would like to enjoy some time in peace, but you feel Ram’s gaze burning your face. Your esteemed senior servant is sitting in front of you, hoping that you will finally speak up about whether you went through the trial or not. She’s her usual pink-haired, red-eyed, fully alive old self.
You sigh and finish eating the rest of your cookie. You offer a smile to the guarded servant.
“How are you feeling on this beautiful night, Ram?”, you ask pleasantly.
Ram narrows her eyes with suspicion.
“I am doing as well as could be expected under the circumstances, Barusu. And yourself?”
“Oh, I’m a little tired from carrying the world on my shoulders. Quite tired about it, actually…”
“Barusu. Please. I want to know if you went through with it. You know what I mean, don’t you?”
“I have gone through many things, my dear Ram. Many trials of many types. I ended up liking you quite a bit, you know? That whole thing about running towards your impending death to give me and the trainee the chance to survive… I am so moved that I want to tear up while replaying that in my mind. But you don’t remember any of it. I have to hold all those memories on my own.”
She narrows her eyes even further, as if the act could threaten you.
“Answer me, Barusu. Did you go through with it?”
You stretch out your arms while smiling.
“I don’t have anything to hide, Ram. I went through with it.”
“Barusu…”
“But what about you, Ram? Did you go through with it?”
Ram hunches over, crossing her arms over the table, and glares at you as if you are annoying her intentionally.
“What the hell are you doing? What’s wrong with you? Ever since you exited that tomb, you seem as if you are in a daze, Barusu.”
Otto clears his throat to your right, next to Garfiel, who is slumped on his chair.
“Yes, I worried about that…”, the merchant says. “You looked as if you didn’t care that Emilia had fallen into such a troubling state.”
You shrug, then gulp some more of your tea.
“Nothing much matters when you stop to think about it”, you say with a tired voice, suddenly weary for having to talk. “It all keeps happening over and over, people’s emotions come and go, people die and get reborn. What do you want me to say?”
“Yer own pals can tell yer bein’ as weird as a ghanfal during matin’ season, half-pint, fancy plumage an’ all”, Garfiel says as his blonde hairline glistens in the candlelight, and he reaches for another fried potato. “Can’t believe a damn thing that comes outta yer mouth, it seems.”
You tilt your head towards him and raise a corner of your mouth in a smile.
“That’s rich coming from you, Garfiel. It seems like you don’t care for anyone’s emotions but your own.”
He stares at you for a moment, then he tsks to the side.
“Might as well be true, evil eyes. At least I don’t pretend ta care.”
“I care. And that sister of yours, she looks so majestic when transformed into a horse-sized, fantasy world lioness. The female eyelashes are a bit incongruous, though, but man, her light blonde fur must feel so nice.”
Garfiel snaps his head back, and then he straightens in the chair as if he needs to defend himself.
“Ol’ furryburglar transformed in front of ya? She wouldn’t do that if she didn’t have to, or at least she didn’t use to.”
You lean back on your chair and look at the ceiling.
“She had to, yeah. Ah… I thought she had betrayed us, but in the end she was as cool as they come. I’m glad she’s one of us.”
Before you know it you end up having to wipe some tears. Everyone at the table is staring at you with different levels of bewilderment, but you couldn’t care less.

You want to be honest with yourself: you want to go into Ryuzu’s guest bedroom and get under the covers of that bed so you can bask in the warmth of what would be Emilia’s first time in this new reality. However, you know that if you allow yourself a break, you will allow yourself a second. You will end up repeating the loop dozens, hundreds of times, and maybe the next time you won’t find the strength to climb out of that hole. You might lose the will to do so.
This time you will try something different. At least returning to Roswaal’s mansion wasn’t a waste. The lioness had revealed that there was a secret to discover in Sanctuary, and the only two people you imagine will know what she hinted at are Garfiel and Ryuzu. So as soon as the informal meeting at Ryuzu’s living room ends , you intend to figure out where Garfiel goes whenever he thinks none of you are looking.
You have already refused to meet the clown, which annoyed this current version of the senior servant. And you have let the punk go ahead as he prowls towards and then into the dense forest as if he’s done it regularly for years. You stalk him with the little experience you have, not worrying if you end up failing. You are following a predator in his home turf. If he catches you and he freaks out to the extent that he kills you, you’ll try all over again. Best case scenario, he’ll notice you but allow you to believe you have the upper hand, which will get you closer to learning something new. And once you store in your brain a new fact of this strange world, nobody will be able to take it out no matter how many times they kill you.
The trees are very tall, and their thick branches are interlaced above you letting only scarce rays of moonlight to pass through and illuminate a portion of the ground. It’s a good thing that you have a decent sense of smell, since even vision is barely capable of discerning shapes.
At one point you lose Garfiel, and you stop partially hidden by a tree trunk. You figure that the punk is coming, so you wait until he makes his entrance. There’s no harm in making Garfiel believe it will surprise you.
Sure enough, Garfiel jumps down from one of the trees and you turn to face him, only for him, who seemed to believe you were going to punch him, to deftly jump out of the way.
“Yer slow!” He says with a laugh, “An’ ya didn’t even sense me! That’s two flaws, slowin’ down an’ losin’ yer awareness o’ the environment!”
You stand there looking at him calmly as he leaps towards you and then catches you between his forearm and a tree trunk. He’s pressing down hard between your clavicles. His heart must be pounding on his ribcage, but your nerves haven’t worsened.
Garfiel snarls at you, displaying his triangular teeth, from so close that you can smell the fried potatoes in his breath.
“Damn weirdo, freakin’ out yer own pals, an’ now followin’ me through the forest. Thinkin’ ya could catch me unawares in my own home! Can’t understand whaddya want, but with someone like ya, who can enter them witches’ restin’ place even though them traps shoulda have ripped ya apart, ya followin’ me cannot be anythin’ good.”
“Depends on what you mean by good, Garfiel”, you say imperturbably. “I’m just following your dear Frederica’s guidelines.”
You see a mixture of emotions flash through his eyes: guilt, anger, and fear.
“Whaddya mean? What’s that betrayin’ broad got ta do with anythin’?”
“She has a lot to do with this. As a matter of fact, it was her idea. She decided that I should pay you a visit because apparently you’ve been slacking off.”
He snaps his head back with disbelief, then he leans forward to glare threateningly mere centimeters away from your face.
“Haah!? Slackin’ off! Ain’t nobody who works harder than me in this whole village, except fer the old hag! But she’s a special case above all, havin’ been guardin’ this place since before Gosre Peahles extracted his flamin’ sword from the fabled rock!” He returns to his original position and snarls at you. “Yer just sayin’ stuff ta piss me off, an’ it’s workin’, so how about ya stop talkin’ an’ make yer damn point before I make a point out of ya!”
You take a deep breath.
“I’m saying that your heart is restless, Garfiel. I don’t think guarding is your calling.”
“It has been fer years! Whaddya know anyway!? Apart from them legends ‘bout the strongest man in the world who resides in this here place, legends known far and wide, all ya learned came from that betrayin’ Frederica, who left us all ta rot!”
You barely blink as you hold Garfiel’s gaze. His pupils are trembling, and he’s breathing harder.
“Frederica told me something that caught my curiosity”, you say. “She told me that I had yet to learn the secret of Sanctuary. I have always been interested in mysteries, and it’s not as if tending to livestock, talking to the half-beast locals who have known nothing else than these dreary views, or drinking myself into oblivion with the watered down mead of this place could hold my attention for long. You know all there is to know about this here village, don’t you, Garfiel? And sooner or later you will show it to me.”
Garfiel looks as if in a trance. After a while he snarls differently than the happy-go-lucky one you’re used to seeing. It’s a powerful, animalistic one, directed at you. You know you he won’t treat you any other way for as long as you remain in this reality.
“Threaten me an’ mine any further an’ you’ll find out the true meanin’ of pain!”
You laugh at the joke this punk made inadvertently, which confuses him. As he was about to shout at you again, you interrupt him.
“I didn’t come to hurt any of you. In fact, I want nothing more than to free all of you so we can all go home, or somewhere better. Unfortunately we can’t count on my lovely Emilia’s self-punishing determination to lift that hundreds of years old barrier of yours, so I need to expose every single dirty secret of this village. You are either going to help me sooner or later, Garfiel. I have much more time and willpower than you can imagine.”
For a moment he squeezes you tighter against the tree trunk, but you let him ponder your words. Eventually he groans and lets you go.
“I cannot understand ya, half-pint, and ya talk too much. Ya’ll have ta meet someone who will know better how ta deal with yer sneaky cormuto ass.”
You smile and nod, which annoys the punk.
“Great. I was getting tired of just dealing with just the two notorious locals. Who might that new person be?”
Garfiel turns around to lead you somewhere else, but he smirks at you over his shoulder.
“I’m gonna disappoint ya, half-pint, which makes me all happy.”
“Oh, please, anything but disappointment.”
Your witty personality annoys him even more. You keep bickering with him while he guides you further into the darkened forest, until he motions with his head towards a clearing. You crane your neck, but you are indeed disappointed. Sitting on a log waits Ryuzu, that small, sort of twelve year old elf, with that long, straight pale red hair that curves upwards at the ends, and who hides most of her body up to her chin in a bulky coat, as if she were perpetually cold. As soon as she notices that you are following Garfiel, she stands up and narrows her eyes at you in a way you hadn’t seen Ryuzu do before. Then again, you hadn’t intruded into their private world in such a way before.
“Oh, it’s just Ryuzu!”, you say.
Garfiel shakes his head.
“Just, huh?” He then walks up to Ryuzu’s side, and he motions with his head towards you. “See who I brought ya, old hag? Guess ya’ll be able to figure if it’s true or not, won’t ya?”
The elf takes a deep breath while she holds your gaze.
“I’m surprised you got here so fast, Ryuzu, but I guess I shouldn’t”, you say, as you had been thinking about it for a few seconds. “The first I saw of you was when I got teleported to that clearing close to the witches’ tomb. You reminded me of a deer back then, and you ran really fast back into the forest. I guess acting like some decrepit old woman is one of those Sun Tzu things, huh? Feigning weakness where you are strongest. So you actually were a twelve year old with the energy to match, despite Garfiel calling you old hag repeatedly. That’s on me, though. I should have stopped paying attention long ago to whatever Garfiel says. Most of it doesn’t mean anything.”
Garfiel snarls at you as he clenches his fists, but when Ryuzu shares a knowing look with the punk, he relaxes and smirks for a moment.
“So you followed Garfiel into the forest, Young Su?”, Ryuzu asks with an uncharacteristic wariness.
“That’s right”, you answer without hesitation. “For two reasons: first of all one that I haven’t mentioned to your punk grandson of sorts, and the other because I want to uncover the secrets of your dreary village, just like Frederica suggested I should do. And I’m firmly on that German’s side from now on, I think.”
“That first reason you haven’t explained already seems less perilous, so please elaborate on it.”
“Alright. I know you guys won’t allow me to pass the trials for Emilia’s sake. That whole political garbage. But I thought about Frederica, and something wasn’t making much sense.”
“What did you think about?”
“The lioness herself told me before my lovely Emilia ended up trapped here that her mother had come to the village for protection. She had half-beast children, meaning Garfiel and Frederica, although I don’t know if she was the human half or the hopefully intelligent beast half of the equation. While Garfiel has ended up wanting to spend the rest of his punk days in this miserable place, Frederica left. But how the hell did Frederica leave if the other half-beasts can’t? If she managed to pass the trials, then the barrier wouldn’t be there anymore, would it? So there must be a loophole that will allow us to sneak at least Emilia through the border, and maybe your trapped villagers as well.”
Ryuzu stares at you in silence for a few moments before speaking.
“If only such loophole existed, Young Su, I assure you we would have exploited it already.”
“That’s part of what had me confused, sure, but then-“
Garfiel snorts, which makes you focus on him. He shakes his head and puts a hand on his waist while looking as if he hates that he needs to talk about this, and that you brought it up.
“Ol’ furryburglar’s full name is Frederica Baumann. Did ya know that much?”
“Yes.”
He points at his chest with his free thumb.
“This one here’s a Tinsel, as in Garfiel Tinsel. Ya know what that means?”
“I’d have to think about it for a moment…”
Garfiel hardens his voice.
“It’s easy, half-pint. It means my momma is a whore.”
You snap your head back. Ryuzu lifts her gaze towards the punk, and a sudden sadness clouds her face. She looks down to the insides of her bulky coat, hiding her features up to her lower eyelids.
You want to lighten the mood, make some sarcastic comment, but Garfiel keeps staring at you with pure disdain and disgust. Not toward you. Not solely toward his mother even, but the entire world. You end up lowering your head as well.
“… Jeez.”
“It’s true, ain’t it. Both ‘Rica and I are half-breed bastards left behind. What else would ya call a momma that comes inta this secret village that allowed other families of freaks ta grow up safe, only for that momma of ours to leave us so she could prance back to that wide world out there? What do ya call a full human, which she is, that screwed two different beast shapeshifters and when she was round with me, she shat me out and then abandoned us? Damn whore threw us here to rot like some garbage. That’s what goes on in yer place of birth, ain’t it, half-pint? Is that the kinda stuff ya fancy noble-like people do?”
“I’m not a noble, as you already know, but-“
“I can see it. I can see it in yer eyes. The way ya look down on me, like I’m some kinda rat in the gutter. Same way that Ram looks at me. Fuckin’… All of ya should just burn up in hell.”
You’re speechless for a moment. You don’t want this guy to get too angry, not even because he will likely kill you, but for his own sake.
“Young Su”, Ryuzu attracts your attention firmly as if wanting to stop Garfiel from talking.
“Yes, Ryuzu…”, you say with a thin voice.
“I can see you’re a smart individual from the way you act in front of me, and the words you say.”
“Well, that’s much kinder than how most other people have described me.”
“However, you failed to consider, or discover, a vital detail about Frederica that allowed her to leave our Sanctuary without passing the trials. She simply walked out of here, the same way you would be able to.”
“Oh?”
“Frederica ain’t a half-breed”, Garfiel says while crossing his arms and looking down at the grass. “She’s more human than beast. That old Echidna witch was only interested in half-breeds, I reckon. That’s why she trapped them here even if they just wandered inta the place. Like diggin’ a pit and waitin’ for them jotirambos ta fall in, I’m guessin’, then makin’ a nice casserole out of them. So ‘Rica didn’t fully belong here, and she must’ve sensed that. Maybe part of why she turned her back on us.”
You scratch your head.
“Shit… So that whole thing of calling Frederica part beast instead of half wasn’t pointless. I guess I knew it all along! Which means that no loophole exists. Another dead end…”
Ryuzu holds your gaze without blinking nor showing any expression in her young, elfin face.
“Was that all about your first purpose for following Garfiel into the forest?”
“I’m afraid so, yeah.”
“In that case we would move to revealing secrets about our ancient town. For that I will need Young Garf’s help.”
When you were turning your head towards the punk, he lunges at you and you suddenly find yourself gasping for air while your throat burns and the weight of your body pulls on your head. Garfiel has grabbed you by the throat and lifted you into the air so your feet don’t touch the ground. He’s squeezing with the purpose of cutting the supply of blood to your brain, but he’s also preventing you from filling your lungs or letting the air escape. Even though you have gone through plenty of troubling bullshit already, your body goes into a panic, and you grasp at the punk’s wrist and his fingers digging into your throat in an attempt to loosen his grip, but the bastard truly is strong.
“Ya know, ya’ve been givin’ me such creeps, I was achin’ to do this to ya. If ya know what’s good for ya, quit strugglin’. I’ll tear this fucker clean off.”
“Ggg…”, is all you manage to get out of your throat as your vision starts to gray at the edges.
Ryuzu approaches you slowly, then looks up at you as if trying to attract your attention. She’s frowning, but with more worry than hate.
“I can let you in on one of our secrets, Young Su. I’m not Ryuzu Bilma, that dutiful slave.”
Your brain is getting starved of oxygen, darkening the forest even further. You feel as if you will faint at any moment, and the pain in your throat prevents you from focusing on anything or even think.
“We’ll have time for more after cleaning up… this”, Ryuzu says as she wanders away from you.
Your body goes limp, and your vision fades.

Everything is black. How did you die? Ah, Garfiel strangled you. No, you can’t be dead. Not only you aren’t enveloped by that looped witch’s unearned love, but you feel your body. Your throat hurts and you have trouble breathing right, as if something is covering your head. You are also lying on your side on a cold, hard floor that feels like the one at the witches’ tomb. You try to move your hands, which feel cold and unresponsive, but you can’t, and it takes you a couple of seconds to realize that they are bound behind your back. Garfiel and Ryuzu have kidnapped you and restrained you in some building. That’s new.
Not knowing what else to do, you force yourself into a sitting position. It takes a while, and you can feel a shooting pain in your head as you do it. You let out as a sigh of relief as your head rests against the wall behind you. You try to take off whatever is masking your vision by dragging your head along the wall back and forth, and although some fabric slides along your nose whenever you tug, the sack-like thing must be fastened around your neck.
As you get up, a creaky, metallic door opens grating along the floor, and brisk footsteps come toward you.
“Is that you, Garfiel?”, you ask with a dry voice.
“Yeah, an’ I’ve brought you the one thing ya’ll need.”
“Being freed from imprisonment?”
Garfiel chuckles.
“Yer a silly weirdo even after gettin’ choked and thrown inta a dungeon. I just gotta admire that at least. Too bad ‘boutta rest.” You hear something wooden being set on the floor carelessly, maybe of the size of a chair. “Nah, I meant a bucket ta shit an’ piss in. I even hafta bother meself throwin’ out yer shit. Guess that if that hot Ram, so strong an’ proud an’ all, will do it fer her lord, I can lower meself as well.”
“So I am the lord in this relationship. Good to know. Too bad about having my hands bound and my head covered by a bag of some kind. These restraints go beyond caution and into sadism. My wrists are numb already.”
“Yer lucky I’m nice, and that the old hag is interested in yer case. With such a bold intruder, I’d just punch ya so hard that yer face would’ve exploded. Then I’d have fed yer re-“
“Fed my remains to the pigs, yeah. I noticed their size, you must keep them pretty happy.”
“I keep meself busy with all this guardin’, I already told ya, half-pint. Lotsa crap ta do. Plenty of it ugly.”
You take a deep breath, but whatever is covering your head smells bad, like it came from a barn.
“Now let’s get serious, Garfiel. Did you throw me into a dungeon just because I followed you into the forest? Or is it because I told you I wanted to reveal your secrets?”
“Nah, I’d just told ya to eat a dick and go away. It’s just that the old hag had wanted from the beginning to get a good sniff at ya, and now she’s sure.”
“Is this a fetish thing? Have I become that twelve year old granny’s personal plaything, locked away forever in her sex dungeon?”
You don’t hear anything for a few seconds, then a punch in your guts makes you fall to your knees and then double over while coughing. Your intestines burn, and you are surprised that your shit didn’t get squeezed out. You figure you will have to endure for a while this electric pain coursing through the lower tract of your digestive system.
“Didn’t yer mom teach ya ta never talk ‘bout ladies that way, ya dumbass? I’ll give yer three warnings, then I’m goin’ in all at once.”
You cough.
“Maybe I should keep suggesting dirty stuff about your beloved sister, so you will kill me and we’ll get this over with.”
Garfiel groans, annoyed.
“An’ maybe I’ll tighten the cord on yer neck so much that yer tongue will fall out. I got now how ya operate, evil eyes. Ya say weird things ta people so they get confused and they forget ‘bout the important stuff they shoulda brought up with ya. As in ya stinkin’ like the witch!”
You take a deep breath of the foul smelling sack over your head or whatever it is, and you roll your eyes even though Garfiel can’t see it.
“So that’s what throwing me into a dungeon is all about. A fucking misunderstanding. I’m not a witch cultist, damn it. I fight and kill cultists. I already went over this.”
“Yeah, an’ ya also claim that ya fight monsters and such, but after checkin’ with the adventurers’ guild, they said ya haven’t been on any of their sanctioned hunts.”
“Hey, don’t fly off into your delusions! I’m telling you, I know I smell like that Satella broad, but that doesn’t mean I’m a witch cultist. Other people have brought up my foul body odor, which is embarrassing, let me tell you, but eventually they got the point that they were mistaken and that I’m simply a weird guy who goes around smelling like a witch. I even led an operation against the Witch’s Cult, killed one of their Archbishops and everything!”
You hear a taptaptap and you realize that Garfiel is hitting his chest with his fists.
“Alright, alright, settle down. I believe ya.”
“I should hope so.”
“Nah, just kiddin’. Old hag told me that some random people do smell like the witch fer no good reason, a mystery, but she said that none stunk like ya. It’s like ya got that old witch all over ya. An’ ya ain’t a normal dude walkin’ ‘round. Ya entered them witches’ tomb without triggerin’ Echidna’s traps, and ya followed me inta the forest even though I’m the strongest man alive, more powerful than Beninges Effidon in his glorious days. Ya should be afraid of annoyin’ me fer a single second!”
You sigh.
“I just know you are a soft guy inside, someone who just wants to return to his sister’s side and bask in the warmth of her big, warm, possibly furry bosom.”
You can feel Garfiel glaring through the sack on your head.
“Yer still useful, so I won’t kill ya, but I’m gettin’ real bored of ya.”
“Then let’s get to interesting stuff. Who is that Ryuzu, and in what way is she different from the Ryuzu that bakes us cookies?”
“Them’s her siblings, in a sense.”
“At least I know there’s more than one. That Ryuzu I met in the beginning, the deer Ryuzu, must be the dumbest of the bunch, huh?”
“Hah, that’s rude. Anyway, none of ya. As in none of ya business, cultist fuck.”
“I’m not with the Witch’s Cult, I’m telling you.”
“Oh, shut it. Unless ya got anythin’ real ta say, I’m gonna shut ya up.”
“Permanently if you don’t mind. Go ahead and kill me, Garfiel. You must have wanted it for a good while.”
Garfiel growls, then looses something around your neck and takes off the sack. The light of the couple of torches makes you wince due to the sudden contrast with the blackness. You are indeed in the closest thing to a fantasy world dungeon that you can imagine. Garfiel, standing in front of you, hasn’t changed a bit: same old messy-haired hick wearing a vest that barely covers his athletic chest, and the same beastly expression on his face, showing his pointy teeth, that he intends to be menacing. You smile at him despite the pain in your bowels, and the punk narrows his eyes nervously.
“Punch me so hard that my head explodes”, you ask. “That sounds fun.”
“Whatever. Ya say any more weird shit like that, an’ I’ll beat ya ta death.”
“That works for me too, as long as I end up dead.”
He tilts his head and stares at you perplexed, trying hard to figure out what you are doing.
“I’m so tired of yer mind games, and I can’t understand the why of this one. Ya’ll end up gettin’ killed fer real!”
“Whatever happens, happens.”
“Quit sayin’ shit like that, creep!” He stares at you murderously for a while, then pokes you with his finger in the chest. “I ain’t gonna kill ya, freak, if only ‘cause the old hag didn’t want me to. The village will be a mess with people lookin’ for ya. I’ll have ta lie to that fiery Ram an’ all, and I hate it already. That’s all yer fault. I guess ya deceived yer pals, that clown bastard even, to infiltrate their home.”
“I am not their enemy, nor yours”, you say, “I am your friend, Garfiel. I’m here to free you all from that witch Echidna’s barrier. My main goal is to help my dear Emilia return back to the warm, womb-like safety of our huge fantasy world mansion, where we will test the springs of every single bed. And that’s a whole load of beds, let me tell you.”
Garfiel wrinkles his nose in disgust.
“Bullshit! Yer a creep, an’ ya talk too damn much. If ya were anythin’ other than a damn liar, ya wouldn’t be sittin’ there right now.”
You sigh, then lift your gaze to hold the punk’s nervous one.
“So you intend to keep me alive. What’s your endgame here then? Because I need to be somewhere else as soon as possible.”
“The shy princess will realize that ya ain’t comin’ back. Maybe she’ll believe that ya just went an’ abandoned them. She’ll go back to attemptin’ ta pass them trials, because someone that fancy and royalty-like won’t wanna stay in this nowhere place. If she ends up liftin’ that barrier, then maybe old hag will release ya. We’ll give ya up to the clown so he can figure out what ta do with a cultist that sneaked into their camp.”
“I’m not a damn cultist. Did you even hear a word I said?”
“Sure ya are.”
Your heart has realized before you have that you are in a perilous position. If they manage to prevent you from dying, they won’t have much trouble keeping you in this dungeon for days, weeks, months. You already know that Emilia will never pass those trials. You have to figure out a way for this punk to murder you. Or maybe just wait until he leaves, and then you’ll bite off your tongue. After all, you already know how that feels, and you can lie on your back, let your mouth fill with blood and choke on it. Your mood improves already.
“Just to try make you see reason, we know that at least two contract killers have been hired to assault Roswaal’s mansion. It will happen in around four days from now at the latest. They intend to murder everyone at the clown’s place, which means that Frederica is going to die. Do you want that to happen?”
The thought of his sister dying contorts Garfiel’s face with worry for a moment.
“That’s…”
“Really fucking bad. The killers are a nasty bunch as well. One a sexual freak with the hottest tits I’ve ever seen, and the other a child who has mutated monsters for pets. And they will kill everyone at the mansion, I’m telling you. They will get eviscerated, their remains devoured by monsters. That’s what you are risking by keeping me here.”
Garfiel is silent for a while. His brow furrows and he bites his lips. Then he shakes his head and frowns at you.
“Nah, that’s too convenient, ain’t it? Just as ya were stalkin’ me through the forest, some assassins are preparin’ to kill me sister? There’s no way!”
“So you want to risk it being true, then? Because it is. Your dear Frederica, that awesome lioness, will get murdered, and it will be on you. How will you be able to live with that?”
Garfiel’s voice trembles with fear and rage.
“Yer yankin’ my chain. I can’t believe ya…”
“I’m telling you the truth. Why would I lie about something like that? Would I lie to you about your dear sister, whom you obviously love so much?”
He clenches his fists as if holding back his urge to bash your head in.
“Let me go, Garfiel”, you say seriously. “I’m not your enemy.”
He rubs his fingers on the nasty scar on his forehead while grimacing in pain.
“Yer sure actin’ like one. Crap… Why do ya have ta mess with me head like this!”
You keep staring at him intensely.
“Let me go, Garfiel, and we’ll pretend none of this happened. I was about to leave for Roswaal’s mansion to stop the contract killers. You believing that I’m a witch cultist is a misunderstanding after all, and I hate cultists as well, so I understand your actions. We’ll return back to normal.”
He grits his predatory teeth even harder.
“Shut up!”
He swings his fist into the iron bars, bending them. He then wraps both hands around his head and slams it against the stone wall. When he pulls it back, his scar is covered in blood which is running down towards the bridge of his nose.
You are more than a bit disturbed. No wonder this guy is such a moron. His frontal lobe must have been mush for a long time.
“Garfiel, that’s fully unnecessary, not to mention horrifying”, you say with worry. “Calm down, let’s talk about this.”
He turns and points at you with a shaky hand.
“Shut up! Ya stay away from me sister! Stay away from the mansion! Ya hear me?! I don’t know what kinda lies ya told me, but I don’t trust ya one bit!”
After he calms down, he leans his head against the bars. A single tear drops to the dirty stone floor.
“Why do ya hafta mess with my head? Damn people always messin’ with me. And all ya had to do is help the shy princess, make sure nothin’ happened to ‘er. That’s all people asked of ya, ain’t it? Maybe the stench woulda been nothin’ then. But ya didn’t, ya came in here to destroy our home, the only place we can live in. I can’t forgive anyone fer that.”
You try thinking about how to convince him, but you can tell it won’t make a difference. He intends to keep you locked away until Emilia exits the witches’ tomb triumphantly, which will never happen, so you will never leave this ancient dungeon. You need to figure out a way to die as soon as possible. Maybe you just have to wait for the punk to leave, and when the coast is clear, steel yourself, lie on your back and bite down hard. Elsa showed you how hard you have to do it, and your mind survived intact after losing half of your tongue.
A moment later you realize that Garfiel is standing a meter away from you. As you look up at him, he crouches as if to read your thoughts through staring at you with his fiery eyes. The rolling beads of blood have reached his upper lip.
“I sure wish yer eyes weren’t like that, and it would be better for ya if they weren’t. Anyone can read yer evil intent with a single look.”
“I’m not evil”, you say, but you know it’s futile.
“Yeah, yeah, I should’ve known that ya’d lie. No matter, whatever ya are, ya won’t be in the way of things soon. Shy princess will pass the trials soon enough.”
You sigh deeply, shrug and resign yourself to wait until he gets bored and leaves.
“What’s with that face, half-pint?”, Garfiel asks with worry. “Ya ain’t gonna to mess with me head anymore? Ya ain’t gonna beg in ya way for me to release ya back to the pals ya deceived?”
“I can tell you are going to have it however you like. You won’t let me out no matter how much I complain, so I better save my breath.”
“Heh, ya got that right. But there’s somethin’ more, ain’t it? That whole thing ‘bout askin’ me ta kill ya… It’s like ya truly wanted it.”
Your heart skips a beat.
“No, I want to live as much as the next guy, I assure you. I was just messing with your head because I knew you wouldn’t kill me. I just wanted to confuse you, which is as easy as it gets because you are as dumb as they come, Garfiel. Just a hick from a forgotten village who keeps making up nonsense because his life is pointless and hopeless.”
Even though his face twitches with anger, he smirks nervously.
“Hah! There it is! That’s what I wanna see. The guy who doesn’t give a damn ‘bout nothin’ and mocks everyone. Sayin’ something so nasty to the strongest man in the world, who has ya locked up in a dungeon no less… That’s a death wish if I ever heard one.”
“I will not die here. I will live a very long life and pass away in my bed, surrounded by dozens of children and grandchildren, some of them part elf and others part demon.”
“Yeah, if ya say so. But knowin’ ya, I’d bet ya that ya’d come back from the dead just ta mock me again.”
“I would never think of doing such a thing.”
“That’s what ya say now, but the dead be comin’ back all the time. That’s why we put them six feet under or feed them ta pigs.”
“What, you have zombies in your fantasy world!?”
“Never heard of those, but that damn necromancer Flinterion the Undying keeps searchin’ fer our humble village. One day he’ll show up and I’ll fight him meself! I’ll have ta claw through a whole army of animated dead first!”
You close your eyes and contain a sigh.
“That would be a very interesting fight to watch. A completely fantastical one as well.”
“I dunno, I’m sure it’d be scary as hell even fer the strongest man in the world. Every time we hear rumbling from underground, me and the other kids used ta hide under our beds. Probably just the wind, but ya never know.”
You open your eyes again and stare at a hesitant Garfiel. He must have recovered his confidence, because he bares his predatory teeth menacingly.
“But I ain’t afraid no more. Becomin’ the strongest man in the world means losin’ all ya fear. Ya don’t even feel it anymore.”
You slowly lean back until you lie on your back, squeezing your tied hands between the floor and your body. The stone floor feels cold through your clothes. A headache is coming, and you want to be left alone to die in peace.
“Knowing your worldview, that makes perfect sense”, you mutter. “Please, let me be for a while, Garfiel, so I can get properly terrified about how much time I’m going to waste locked up in here.”
“Sure, will do. Ya know, it’s funny. I be the strongest man in the world, an’ I’m still afraid of so many things. Of losin’ people I care about, of losin’ a fight… even though it’s rare that anyone is actually strong enough ta challenge me. But yer not afraid of nothin’.”
“I couldn’t care less about the contradictions coming out of your mouth right now. Fuck off.”
“That’s basically what I’m talkin’ ‘bout. Yer too full o’ hate to be afraid of anythin’. Ya’ve been eaten by the darkness. That’s a cultist fer ya.”
After a couple of seconds you hear Garfiel’s footsteps as he walks out of the cell. You wiggle your hands from under your body, and take a deep breath. The headache is coming now. However, Garfiel’s footsteps return, and he appears in your field of view. He stares down at you while smirking as if he has you figured out.
“What?”, you ask.
“Nothin’.”
“Don’t say ‘nothing’, you have something to say. Spit it out.”
“I dunno if ya did this intentionally or not, but I think yer startin’ ta get scared.”
“Scared of what?”
“Whatever it is that’s not gonna happen.”
He crouches towards you. Suddenly he’s forcing your mouth open with one hand, while with the other he shoves a dirty, nasty-tasting balled up rag, filling your mouth with it. He wraps rope around it to secure it in place. Moving surprisingly quick for someone his size, he steps away from you and out of your view. You try to yell at him, but the gag muffles your voice, and all that comes out is a pathetic whimpering.
“Sorry I can’t hear ya”, he shouts proudly. “Hopefully when they let ya outta there, we can talk properly and find out what ya cultist freaks want with our village.”
You hear the sound of metal clanging together as the door closes and is locked shut.

Roleplaying through “Re:Zero” with the GPT-3 story generator (Part 57)

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

In the previous entry we learned that at least one German can shapeshift, the protagonist damaged his magic gate to throw a spell that barely worked, the lioness transformed into a fantasy world lioness, Ram was inspired into commiting suicide by contract killer, a bunch of random monsters pursued the protagonist and the servant trainee, the protagonist discovered that he doesn’t want to see the trainee getting torn apart and eaten by monsters, we learned that a second contract killer is attacking the mansion, and Beatrice decided to save the protagonist at the worst possible moment.


The sight of the blonde haired, festively dressed, hundreds of years old child librarian of Roswaal’s mansion should have brightened your day, made you think that you were lucky to have located her magical library, given that other members of this household had either never found it or merely once or twice. However, Beatrice just foiled your only chance to make your impending death matter. You step forward and glare at the librarian while clenching your fists.
“Send me back to that hallway, Beatrice. You saved me deliberately, didn’t you? You screwed everything up.”
Beatrice’s deadpan face doesn’t change. She knew exactly what you had intended by bursting into that room, and yet she had brought you here.
“Your reason to open that particular door has been extinguished, I suppose.”
A cold shiver runs through your body, and your legs fail you. You attempt to support yourself on the closest bookshelf, but you end up falling to your knees and hitting some books with your shoulder.
“Rem is dead…”, you say with a thin, teary voice. “She ended up comatose because I wasn’t strong enough, and then, even though she would love me forever, I betrayed her… Now I just let her die.”
You feel like you’re going to collapse from exhaustion. Your head feels heavy, and your stabbed shoulder as well as the torn flesh in your left arm hurt like hell. All you want to do is lie down somewhere where nobody will see you cry.
Beatrice approaches you, but you can’t bring yourself to look at her.
“Don’t cry anymore, I suppose”, she says softly. “It will take a moment.”
Her palm lights up as she holds it over your stabbed shoulder. When you feel the balm-like warmth of a healing spell, you flinch in fear, then you leap forward to avoid getting affected by the spell. You turn so you lie on your back and you retreat further from Beatrice by pushing yourself with your heels.
“What are you doing!? Don’t heal me! Did I ask you to heal me!?”
Beatrice is standing there open mouthed, the spell still glowing against her hand. She frowns slightly, then shuts off the spell.
“That was quite rude, I must say”, she answers, then her eyes narrow as if replaying your words. “Why would you object to me healing your wounds, I wonder? They must be healed while it’s still possible, I suppose.”
“No, stay away from me!”
Beatrice’s frown deepens as she crouches to touch the torn flesh in your left arm with her healing light. You feel an uncomfortable chill on your arm, but the pain subsides immediately.
“Stop doing that!”, you shout, then attempt to crawl away again. Your head is spinning.
“I’m looking for the answer to your words in my heart, but I don’t understand… Why would you rather stay hurt than have your wound healed, I wonder? Is it because you are a foolish human being with no regard for your body?”
You tear up again.
“No! It’s because… because…”
Beatrice reluctantly lets go of your arm and lets you crawl away. You sit with your back against the bookshelf.
“I already told you to stop crying, I suppose”, Beatrice says, annoyed and confused. “You haven’t lost that much blood.”
“That looped witch already took the opportunity to move the return point forward, so I could never return again to a moment when I could speak to Rem, see her beautiful smile… Satella took away my girl forever. And now she has the opportunity to make it so I can never return to a point where Rem is even alive!”
“Is this about the blessing Satella gave you, I wonder…?”
“That’s right, you know about it! I called it a curse, and you considered that dying horribly dozens, hundreds of times was a blessing instead! The people I like have already been killed, so I’m going to leave as well!”
“You finally admit it, I suppose. You’re running away, I was wondering when you would finally confess it to yourself.”
“I’m not running away! I’m going to a better place!”
Beatrice shakes her head.
“A power that allows someone to go back in time whenever he dies is too much to take on faith, I suppose.”
Even Beatrice, who had certified with her magic tricks that you were the host of not one Witch Factor, but two, still didn’t believe you. These fantasy people are all morons.
“Yes, you’re right”, you say, tired and bitter. “You’re always right. I guess I’ll have to see it with my own eyes to believe it as well!”
“Are you making any sense, I wonder…? You should know already whether you have such an ability, I suppose, if you claim to have died before!”
After you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, you struggle to stand up. Your stomach is churning and cold sweat is beading on your face. You feel sick.
“As much of a dummy weirdo you can be at times, Beatrice, you are powerful. You have gained experience as a great spirit for hundreds of years. You have survived through an Apocalypse that consumed half of the world. And yet when two evil people assault the mansion to kill all of us, including yourself, you don’t move a fucking finger.”
Facing your disdainful stare, Beatrice steps back, lowers her gaze for a moment, and when she forces herself to look back at you, her frown trembles.
“I have my reasons, I suppose.”
“Reasons, huh…? Nevermind then, you have your reasons to allow your friends, family even, to die when you could do something about it. Let’s just spend our time shooting the shit with each other, alright? I’ll try to forget that Ram and Frederica have sacrificed themselves to allow the weakest of us to keep living, as well as to rescue my comatose girlfriend and a shut-in spirit who could have defended us but refused to do so!”
You turn your back to Beatrice, and you hear her utter a single cry of anguish.
“W-Why would I have to do anything for them, I wonder…!?”, she asks nervously. “I have nothing to do with them! They just live here, I suppose! People come and go from this place! Haven’t they done so for a long time, I wonder…!?”
You turn back around to see that the great spirit of the library has covered her mouth with both hands as if to prevent herself from talking further, then she, upset, raises one of her child hands to wipe her eye, even though she’s not crying.
“I have nothing to do with them, so why would I try to help…?”, she says in a much softer tone than before.
You close the distance with Beatrice and glare at her intensely while the back of your eyes burns and the world spins.
“Then why save me then? Why go out of your way to save one miserable, bumbling moron like me? Tell me that, great spirit.”
“I… don’t know, I suppose…”, she answers with a tiny voice.
Your mouth is filling with hot saliva. You feel like passing out, but more importantly you want to die. You need to disappear from this reality as soon as possible.
“Yeah, you don’t know, Beatrice. You have managed to live for hundreds of years, and occupy a library of all places, and yet you haven’t learned anything truly important, I guess. Or should I say ‘I suppose’? You can’t even get rid of those verbal tics.”
Beatrice wipes her eyes with the back of her hands. You snort and force yourself to stop thinking about hurting her. Nothing matters except figuring out how to kill yourself right now. You look around, but there are only bookshelves filled with books, and you doubt that you could cause yourself enough paper cuts to make a difference. Everything is going blurry, your stomach wants to escape through your mouth. What if you just lie face up and vomit? Will your body allow you to choke to death on the bile if you are still conscious? It’s too bad you don’t have heroin at hand.
When you look back at the child librarian, you can’t fully focus her blurry face.
“Kneel before me, Beatrice…!”, you say with a trembling, hoarse voice. “I want you to swear that you will help the people of this village and save them from the onslaught of those demonic, mutant beasts.”
She sniffs.
“If I swear it, will you quit this nonsense about dying, I wonder…? It would get too lonesome, I suppose…”
You stagger away from the librarian, and then you spot it. Her chair waits between two bookshelves. The little throne of the queen of this lost domain. As you are about to run towards it, a surge of nausea overcomes you. You hunch over, your back convulses, and you spit out a pink stream of bile onto the carpet. It burns your mouth with the taste of stomach acid.
Beatrice gasps behind you.
“Who is going to clean all that, I wonder…!?”
You spit what remains of vomit in your mouth, then take a deep breath and straighten your back.
“This time I ain’t going to clean shit, Beako, because in a couple of minutes I’ll be dead. Sucks to be you.”
You hobble up to Beatrice’s chair, more similar to one in a classroom than a regular dining room chair. You lift it by its top rail and you use most of your remaining strength to batter it against the floor until it breaks, while ignoring Beatrice’s complaints. You notice that a heavy book hidden in a compartment under the seat falls to the floor, but you only care about the sharp-looking, broken pieces of wood strewn around.
“No! My Gospel!”, Beatrice shouts.
The librarian runs up to the book, she kneels in front of it and picks it up. She makes sure that none of the pages have been torn out, and then she hugs the book against her chest as if cradling her baby.
Beatrice glares at you with tears in her eyes.
“This book, this book! It’s everything to me, I suppose… And you almost destroyed it! You destroyed my beautiful chair too!”
You were already holding the jagged, broken end of one of the chair’s legs against your throat, but as your brain connects the facts of what you’ve witnessed, you become paralyzed.
“A Gospel, you called it…”, you murmur. “And you were sad about Petelgeuse dying. It can’t be, Beatrice, can it…?”
“What are you rambling about, I wonder…?”
A shiver runs through you, and even though you don’t drop the broken chair leg you are grasping, you let that arm hang at your side.
“The witch cultists, led by that Petelgeuse you were sad about, tried to kill us all. But they never killed you in that reality where you led me to freeze to death. You have a fucking Gospel. Beatrice, you better deny it, explain it to me.”
You aren’t sure if Beatrice has even heard you, because she’s flipping through the pages of her Gospel as if looking for something.
“Beatrice!”, you shout. “Answer me! Are you a witch cultist or not!?”
The librarian looks up at you, and then her gaze falls on the broken chair leg you are holding in your hand. She’s frowning with resentment.
“What business would that be of you, I wonder? I shall have you know that my only allegiance is to Mother! I only do things for Mother! I don’t owe anything to you!”
“It’s my entire business, given that I had to break my back to save the people I care about from dying at the hands of the very organization you may belong to! Are you our enemy, Beatrice!?”
A hurt look flashes across her face, and then she turns away from you.
“You really think I would divulge such information to you, I wonder? Asking such an idiotic thing only proves that your mental capacity is laughable. Begone from this place, you are not wanted!”
A pang pierces your heart. Your legs fail you, and you fall to your knees. Your vision is blurrying even more.
“And I liked you so much, too… Fuck this.”
You turn the jagged end of the chair leg against your carotid, and you push until the sharp wood breaks through your skin. Blood pours on your shirt and your lap.
Beatrice gasps.
“No!”
She grabs your arm, but she has the strength of a child. You wiggle your arm free and slam the wood deeper. Warm blood pours down your throat. You feel yourself going numb before Beatrice pulls the weapon from your hand. Your body triggers its survival responses, freaking out about your impending death, but you focus on ignoring it.
Beatrice extends her lighted hand towards your neck.
“I can’t let you do this, I suppose”, she says with a shaky voice.
As the balm-like warmth of the librarian’s healing spell spreads through your throat, the blood flow stops. You swat her hand away with your injured forearm.
“What are you doing!? I told you I need to die!”
Beatrice backs away as if you’re going to hit her, and she stares at you with her big, round eyes. She doesn’t speak. You grab the chair leg and slam the jagged edge against your throat once more. Beatrice jumps onto you to wrestle it away from your hands. The blood splashes her hands as tears spill from her eyes.
“I don’t want you to leave me, I suppose!”
You groan, which makes you gargle blood.
“I am not doing any of that shit again! If I need to die, all of you fuck off elsewhere and let me die in peace!”
You push the librarian away from you with your feet, and her small body rolls on the carpet. When she sits up she shoots you a look of dismay as tears stream down her face. She grabs her Gospel and then runs away as if she were trying to disappear from your sight, but she ends up breaking into sobs. She staggers and huddles against a bookshelf, arms wrapped around her Gospel. She’s crying like a lost child.
Even though blood is pumping from your open carotid and this world will cease to exist, even though the librarian might be a cultist after all, you don’t want to see Beatrice suffering like this. She has spent hundreds of years trapped in this mansion, barely leaving her library, because of some contract she needs to fulfill. As kooky as she is, you doubt you would have remained sane to any degree in her situation. And although her saving you might have ruined your life by making you lose Rem forever, this Beatrice who doesn’t seem to care about anyone else wanted for you to continue to exist, to continue visiting her. Before you know it, you are crying too.
“Beatrice, don’t cry, please”, you manage to push through your throat, even though it comes out hoarse. “After my heart stops beating, I will return to the past for real. I won’t be gone.”
Beatrice turns her head sharply towards you. She glares disdainfully, even though her tears keep dripping from her chin.
“As if I care that you will die, I suppose. You’ve got it wrong! I’m upset because you made a mess of everything! You are nothing, you are insignificant!”
As you wheeze, you struggle to stand up even though you are getting colder and dizzier. You shamble towards Beatrice. As you get closer, the librarian curls up tighter, holding on to her Gospel as if to a life buoy, and squeezes her eyes shut.
“Go away!”, she yells. “I don’t even know you, I suppose! You are nothing but a lowly, worthless human! You don’t matter to me!”
You want to pick her up and soothe her, tell her that everything is going to be okay. You can barely tell what’s going on around you any more, but you crouch next to Beatrice and reach towards her. However, she gasps, twists around and clobbers you in the face with her Gospel. You fall on your back. The next time you try to breathe, you break into a coughing fit, splashing blood over your face. Your throat burns although the rest of your body feels so cold you can barely move it anymore.
You hear the library’s door opening.
“I’m interrupting a tender moment”, Elsa Granhiert says with an amiable tone. “Sorry, I only plan to bother you two for a bit.”
Beatrice looks up with disquiet towards the door, somewhere behind you. She leaves her Gospel aside, stands up and wipes the tears from her eyes.
“So, are you the person who is going to free me from my contract?”, the librarian asks with a teary voice.
“I’m just going to find out how the insides of a spirit look like, darling. It will be a new experience. What happened to the boy, though? You two had a fight?”
You wheeze, feeling your throat closing up. You cough and more blood spurts out of your mouth. Your body is shutting down on itself, reality itself is closing in on you like the surface of a black hole. You can’t allow Elsa Granhiert to reach Beatrice, not while you are still kicking.
You turn around and attempt to push yourself up, but your arms are too cold and shake too much. You look up at the contract killer, who is standing a meter and a half away from you, her beautiful face framed by her big, impossibly firm, barely covered breasts, which are splashed with mostly dried blood. She stares at you with curiosity.
“Did you prefer to die by your own hand instead of allowing us to spend some time learning about each other properly? That’s so disappointing, darling.”
You wheeze, trying to form a sentence.
“Fuck… yourself…”
Elsa tightens her lips. As if she considers you devoid of importance, she is about to step over you when you grab both of her ankles with your shaky hands. She stops in place, even though she wouldn’t have any trouble freeing herself. She looks down at you with confusion.
“What are you even trying to do, boy?”
She kicks one of your hands away and stomps on your throat with the tip of her boot. You can feel the bones crackle and pop as what remains of life is slowly being strangled out. Even though your brain is rapidly losing oxygen, it is still functioning, and you can see the wrinkle in her brow that shows her confused and frustrated that you would try something so pointless. Even though Elsa presses down harder into your throat with her boot, you squeeze some words out.
“These people… are… my own…”
You wheeze as your eyes start to slowly slide shut. You feel your throat collapsing within itself, your windpipe being crushed into oblivion. Still, you continue to grasp for her ankles, not allowing her to slip away from you.

The black bath of unearned love envelops you, trying to soothe all your pains. And once freed from the myriad of electrical signals that cry out from different parts of your body, which you no longer have, cease, and the disdain and fear and impotence that had overwhelmed you during the last minutes of your life are washed away, your current calmness maybe resembles what a new spirit must feel like. However, the objective facts about the life you left behind remain, and you know that you will return back to a point in which you will need to shoulder the burden of figuring out how to save most of the people you’ve come to care about.
The Witch of Envy looks at you as if from distance, with those hazy, glowing purple eyes. She fell in love with you maybe the same way someone desperate, waiting to die at the bottom of a darkened pit, would grasp at the first smiling face that showed up in the circle of light above, out of reach. She wants to keep you alive by sending you back to the past, but to a moment she will choose according to her maybe irrational, animal-like logic. In your objective despair, you want to place all your trust in the ghost and her whimsical offer. But even though you are dead, something within you, a remnant of what made you human, rebels against this choice. If this four hundred years old ghost, who loves because she needs to love, sees an opportunity to sever your connections to everyone else you love and who love you back, there’s a good chance that she will take it, and even if you spend an eternity arguing, pleading for her to change her mind, she never will.
For the umpteenth time, the Witch of Envy floats away from you back into the fathomless blackness, so you can push your rock uphill all over again.

Roleplaying through “Re:Zero” with the GPT-3 story generator (Part 56)

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

In the previous entry, Garfiel tried to gain points with the unhinged senior servant, the protagonist offered himself to the Oni senior servant as food, the protagonist taught the skimpily dressed servant trainee about the FBI, the senior servant used blood magic on her forgotten, comatose sister, the protagonist confronted a deceitful German, the senior servant insulted the German’s tea, and we found out that contract killer Elsa Granhiert has chosen to begin her murderous assault. Kind of a packed episode.


Despite both grown servants having jumped to their feet, and having gotten in a stance to fight against the sudden intruder that is holding a gutting knife to the tween trainee, Elsa’s purple eyes are staring straight at you. You get to see again that luscious soot-colored hair, the beautiful, mature face, and that pleasing, satisfied smile, as if this serial killer lives every moment of her life basking in the after-climax glow. She looks like the only real woman in the room, the only person in control of the situation.
“Whoever you are, intruder, free our trainee immediately or face your death!”, Ram shouts while distorting space in a swirl above her palm.
Frederica tries to maneuver towards Elsa’s flank, even though the contract killer keeps following you all with her gaze. You motion for the lioness to stop.
“Stay away from that woman, she’s a sexual deviant! And a serial killer!”
Elsa darts her eyes towards you, and frowns slightly as if you just insulted her.
“Sexual deviant you say, darling? Now how would you know such a thing? I assure you, anyone who would get to know about my intimate interests wouldn’t see the light of a new day.”
“That’s likely true!”, you shout nervously. “I wouldn’t be entirely opposed to letting you do those things to me again, in the right time and place, but more importantly, why the hell are you here so soon!?”
Although you hold Elsa’s confident, intense gaze, you sense the servants positioning themselves for an attack.
“Two servants, one of them a young trainee, a shut-in spirit… and you, darling. Preferably whenever you came. And I must tell you, you are lovelier than I had imagined.”
Her hungry, seductive voice makes you shiver.
“None of that again, Elsa!”
You hear a nasty creaking of bones coming from Frederica, who is hunched over while facing the contract killer. The German’s arms from her forearms down grow light blonde fur, and her hands distend into paws with long, sharp claws. You are shocked, but Elsa widens her smile as if Frederica was putting on a show for her sake.
“A shapeshifter. How lovely…” Elsa says, unworried. “Will you do me a favor, darling? After I rip open your abdomen and get to enjoy the color of your bestial insides, please turn back into a human so I can compare the change in your guts.”
Petra, shaking and leaking fluids from her eyes and nostrils, stops biting her lower lip to blubber.
“P-Please save y-yourselves! R-Run away!”
Frederica steps closer while clenching her teeth and glaring murderously at the contract killer.
“You will let my trainee go, fiend, or I will have no mercy on you. I’ll have you know, I’m German.”
“What does that mean?”, Elsa asks with a curious tone. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard that word.”
Frederica growls.
“It means I’m about to end your whole existence!”
The lioness lunges from an angle at the contract killer, who separates the blade of her gutting knife from the trainee’s throat so she can face her attacker. In a split second, Frederica pushes Petra out of the way with one arm and swipes towards the contract killer’s torso with the extended claws of her other arm. Elsa parries the blow with one of the gutting knives, which produces a clank and a burst of sparks. With a predatory look in her eyes, the contract killer advances on Frederica. She parries another claw strike and stabs at the lioness’ face with the other gutting knife, but Frederica deflects the strike with her furry forearms in a splash of blood.
Ram walks briskly towards Elsa’s flank while extending her arm. In a sudden gust that ruffles your hair, a few thin distorsions slash the space heading for their target, but at the last moment Elsa turns and catches them with her arm. You hear the wind spell digging into the bare flesh of her upper arm, as well as the splashes of blood on the floor. Elsa stands there looking down at the bloody gashes.
“Ouch. You got me good.”
She smears a couple of fingers of the opposite hand with the blood running down her arm, and brings them to her smiling mouth. Her red tongue licks the fingers clean, and she looks satisfied.
While Frederica launches herself at the contract killer with her claws drawn, you look around frantically until you locate Petra, who is crouched near one of the windows while staring at the fight, frozen in fear. Are you as useless as this tween? Can’t you do anything? You don’t have any superpower that doesn’t involve dying, certainly nothing that can damage an infamous contract killer. But is that right? Beatrice had gone through a hell of her own to teach you a little bit of her arts. She had warned you, forbidden you actually, from using them until your magic gate recovered, but this is as huge of an emergency as you can imagine.
Even though your heart is beating way too loud, the area of your arm where Frederica punched you hurts, and the chaos of the fight to the death in front of you should require all your attention, you try to focus on drawing a solid ring in your mind theater. You bring forth your liquid-like magic essence as if coming from your navel, and this time you only amass a small part of it until you form in your mind a congealed mass the size of a bouncing ball. Then, as Frederica swings her arm towards the Bowel Hunter’s head a few meters in front of you, you push slowly, as if threading a needle, that ball of magical essence through the gate.
“Shamac!”, you shout.
An ink-like cloud bursts around you, and you get a still shot of the three combatants stopping their attacks in a sudden confusion. To your surprise you can see the faint outlines of the other people caught in the spell, you guess for magic-related reasons. The voluptuous, big breasted outline of Elsa Granhiert looks around as if trying to get her bearings.
“Hell yeah!”, you say. “Shadow all the way down, baby!”
As soon as you blurt those words out triumphantly even though you haven’t won anything, your body goes cold and you feel as if something has gotten torn inside of your chest. Before you could react to the worrying twinge, someone grabs you from the back of your shirt. You find yourself flying back towards the window. You fall to a stretch of the carpet out of the ink cloud that floats further into the room. In a split second you realize that Ram has run up to you, and you are about to speak when something plunges into the back of your shoulder and lodges itself in the bone. The sudden pain makes you wince, but you have no time to question anything. Closer to the window, Frederica has grabbed the tween trainee and is sprinting to jump out of the window. Ram and you imitate the lioness. You hope that she’ll manage to break through, or else you will all slam into each other.
After you feel more than hear the loud crash of broken glass, you jump through the window frame. As if time had slowed down, you see Frederica falling in an arc as she carries Petra under her arm. In the blink of an eye, four or five throwing knives get stuck into Frederica’s back up to the hilt, and the lioness’ face contorts with surprise and pain. Her jump goes briefly horizontal as the dagger that’s embedded into her spine causes her to arch.
You hit the ground with a roll, and pain shoots throughout your back. You spot Ram’s legs as the senior servant sprints alongside the outside wall of the mansion, and you half crawl half stumble behind her. When Ram finally stops to look back, you fall on your ass right next to her. Frederica and Petra are approaching you, but the lioness is hunched over and staggering as if her legs barely work. There’s blood dripping from her mouth. Her legs seem to give out, and she falls forward onto her furry forearms.
Petra runs to Frederica’s side and tries to support her weight.
“Miss Frederica! Please tell me you are okay!”
“Not in my current form, no…”, she says with a shaky voice, even though she forces a smile for the trainee.
Ram, looking worried, is observing the window you all broke through.
“That woman is way too strong. She came out of nowhere, too…”
“She’s Elsa Granhiert, a contract killer”, you say.
Ram turns her head sharply towards you, and judging by the dread in her face, you might as well have told her that Death had come for her in person.
“I doubt we could win against the Bowel Hunter even if Frederica wasn’t so injured”, Ram says with a low voice. “We need to flee.”
“What!?”, you shout with disbelief. “The moment we leave, that freak will find Beatrice and Rem and kill them both! That’s your own sister you are suggesting we abandon!”
“We don’t have time, Barusu. I hate having to do this, but that Rem, being my sister, would understand my position. She would agree that we need to save ourselves instead of risking all of us dying.”
You clench both your teeth and fists.
“You have no clue! Rem would have jumped right into the fray to save the people she cared about, even if it meant sacrificing herself! That’s who she was. Everyone in this mansion is part of our family. We can’t leave them behind!”
Ram is taken aback by the sudden anger you direct at her, but she glares in turn.
“This is no time to be a hero, Barusu.”
“This is one of the only times when it would make sense to be one!”
“I-I also think we should save the others…”, Petra says shily, tears streaming down her face.
Ram scowls at the trainee as if she hates that the tween is wasting time.
“Shut up. You are a child.”
“Now she’s a child!?”, you complain.
Frederica pushes herself off the ground so she can support herself on her shaky legs. She looks as if she might collapse at any moment. She spits blood to the side, and while more blood drips out of the corner of her mouth, she addresses the rest of you.
“We can’t abandon our people to their deaths. I will transform. Ram, come with me and we’ll handle that Bowel Hunter. Mr. Natsuki, lead Petra out of danger and figure out a way to rescue both our comatose friend as well as our reluctant librarian.”
You don’t want to say it out loud, but there’s no way that Frederica and Ram, as strong as they might prove themselves to be when pushed to their limits, would be enough against someone so clearly monstrous as Elsa Granhiert. Frederica is trying to buy you time to rescue the others, hoping that there’s a chance the both of them will end up escaping the contract killer. You feel terrible for having accused her angrily before. Despite her deceit, she’s a top-notch gal.
Frederica, wheezing from the blood that must be pooling in her lungs, still holds a faint smile as she looks over her shoulder to the knives sticking out of the bloodied back of her servant outfit.
“I won’t be able to be of any help unless I heal these wounds… Please, Petra, don’t be afraid.”
The lioness grabs the front of her outfit with her light blonde, furry paws, which look as if she only dressed with part of a Halloween costume, and she rips her clothes apart, ending up naked except for her panties.
You close your mouth, and force yourself to avoid staring at her big, shapely breasts that she makes no effort to hide. As Frederica clenches her teeth, she falls to her knees. Her head, torso and limbs groan and creak while they bulge, elongate or twist, and grow soft, light blonde fur. The knives stuck to her human form pop out and fall to the ground, pushed out by her bestial transformation. At the end you find yourself staring at a horse-sized fantasy world lioness that has lost the regular Frederica’s voluminous hair, although she has gained a long, fluffy tail. Her head lacks all human features, but she looks back towards you all and stretches her big mouth full of pointy teeth into a smile.
“Phew! That felt good! Petra, you should try it some time!”
The beast’s mouth didn’t form those words. Frederica must be projecting her speech through magic.
“I wish!”, Petra says with a smile, even though she’s still crying. “You look wonderful, miss Frederica.”
“Thank you, dear.” The beast form of Frederica lifts her big head towards you. “Mr. Natsuki, I would have expected you to be scared or even appalled, but what’s with that face?”
“Well… I mean, you look majestic and graceful, the kind of legendary beast that would appear on the flag of a fantasy nation. But we need a monstrous feline that would cause our enemies to piss themselves, you know? Your bestial form even has female eyelashes.”
Frederica looks down, suddenly disappointed. In her current form she looks like a gigantic cat who has been denied food.
“Frederica! We absolutely do not have time for this nonsense”, Ram says with a resolute tone. “If you want us to commit suicide confronting the Bowel Hunter, let’s do so while it means anything.” As she starts walking towards the busted window, she looks at you over her shoulder. “You better not waste this opportunity, Barusu.”
Your chest tightens. You open your mouth to answer, but you can’t form any words. Ram ends up closing her eyes. She faces forwards and both her and the graceful, horse-sized beast that Frederica has become hurry to their likely deaths.
You turn to run in the opposite direction, towards the front doors of the mansion. When you are about to pass by Petra, whose tween face is a mess of tears and snot, she alternates between worrying for the servants and looking expectantly at you. You grab her hand and force her to follow you. However, you feel blood running down your skin from the knife stuck in the back of your shoulder, and your heart hurts because you already miss this version of Ram who had looked at you as something closer to a human than to an insect for a brief moment, when she sat on the living room’s sofa after she understood that you had fought to make her understand the unbelievable truth about her lost sister. This reality is already a bust. You have learned the horrible information that Elsa Granhiert will time her attacks to either the moment you arrive at the mansion, or if you take your sweet time returning, to whether enough days have passed. You don’t think there’s a way you will avoid losing people when that contract killer is already trying to kill you all.
“Petra, you have a better chance of surviving if you just run as fast as you can to the village”, you say to the tween, who is trying to dry her eyes while running. “If I were you I would take this chance to save yourself.”
“No, I want to stay with you, Mr. Natsuki!” She says, clinging to your arm with surprising strength. “I am not leaving you by yourself in this place. Besides, I know you, and you wouldn’t run away! You aren’t doing so right now, and you didn’t do that back at the battle against those horrible cultists! I remember very well how you charged with your ground dragon so you could kill that man who was trying to stab me!”
“That’s because I’ve found out that under the right circumstances dying horribly can feel surprisingly good. You are still a child, Petra. You have a whole boring, unfulfilling life ahead of you. You barely know anything about this world yet.”
“I know you, Mr. Natsuki! You are a hero! I will not leave your side!”
You sigh, disappointed that she won’t listen to reason. It’s obvious she wants to prove her affection for you by staying by your side. Joke’s on her, because she barely registers in your consciousness.
“It will very likely become your funeral, but then again I believe in personal choice. Ever since you started working here I’ve done nothing but berate you and you still won’t get away from me. Some people don’t learn.”
The two of you enter the mansion through the front doors. You can already hear the fight coming from the side of the mansion opposite to where Rem’s room is. You want to pay attention to the muffled crashing, the shouting, the clanking, the magic sound effects, but you would only distract yourself from what you need to do.
As you rest against a marble pillar, you point with your thumb towards your injured shoulder.
“Petra, can you see what the hell is sticking out of there?”
You interrupted the tween as she was biting her nails.
“A knife, like the ones that hurt miss Frederica.”
“Then take it out. Quick.”
“I-I don’t think it’s a good idea. It might be preventing blood fr-“
“I don’t care. I don’t want to live with a knife stuck in me. Take it out, damn it.”
Petra nods. You crouch, then she pushes with one hand your flesh next to the wound while with the other she pulls the knife out. You clench your teeth, but you feel tears forming in your eyes. Petra leaves the bloody knife on a chair.
“It seems that the wound won’t bleed too much…”, she says cautiously.
“Whatever. Let’s go.”
You quicken your pace through the hallway towards your comatose demon servant’s room.
“I would need some time to find whatever door Beatrice put her Passage spell on”, you say without turning your head to the trainee you are dragging around. “And I’d also rather rescue my completely defenseless Rem first.”
After slinking around a couple of corners, you start to hear noises similar to shrieks coming from further down this side of the mansion. You stop for a moment, and when Petra attempts to question why you stopped, you press your hand against her mouth. No, you still hear the intense fight in the distance, but these strange, animal-like shrieks come from the opposite direction. The closer you get to Rem’s room, the more audible they become.
Something alive turns the next corner into the hallway you are walking through. It’s a black, furry creature the size of a small pig. It has an unfriendly face and a horn coming out of its forehead. When he spots Petra and you, it snarls.
“What the hell is that!?”, you shout. “Why is there a random monster walking around in this mansion!?”
The beast makes a raspy, barking sound before sprinting straight for you. Startled, you attempt to slam it with a punch, but it dodges the attack and sinks its teeth into your left arm. The creature shakes its head from side to side, tearing off layers of flesh with its fangs. Petra screams and punches the creature in the back of the head. It whines and opens its mouth, releasing you. When it falls to the floor, you punt it further down the hall.
You wonder if you just hallucinated. Why would there be a monster-like creature wandering around in here? You are about to shout insults to the furry monster when you realize that something close to a swarm of demonic-looking monsters of different sizes is running towards you both while baring their teeth.
“Get back!”, you scream at the young servant girl.
Both of you run in the direction you came from. The bites in your left arm burn and bleed, and you can’t move your hand right. Behind you both you hear loud noises, screams and roars. You are surprised that these monsters haven’t caught up to you yet.
“What… What are those things?”, Petra asks while panting.
“I don’t know! This is your world! Take some responsibility for having failed to make something decent of this place!”
“Ugh! I was just born here! We need to hide somewhere or else those things are going to bite us to death!”
You turn towards the first room to the side of the hallway, and you try the handle. It’s open. You pull the door towards you, then push the trainee inside. You wish you hadn’t looked back at what’s coming for you: there aren’t only cat or pig sized demonic-looking monsters rushing towards you both, but also some the size of Dobermanns, and a couple of the monsters, which look like bats from the glance you got, are flying over the running ones.
Your body acts for you. This is survival of the fittest at its most primal. Before you know it you’ve jumped into the room, closed the door behind you and leaned with your back against it to prevent the monsters from pushing it open. Still, that doesn’t mean you are safe from some horrific abominations jumping at you both from the other side of the glass windows, in case they are roaming the yard.
“Mr. Natsuki, the bolt! Lock the door!”, shouts Petra in a panic, while hunched over, crying and holding her head in her hands.
What sounds like a dozen monsters are growling and shrieking right outside of the door you are holding. They are pushing against it, making the wood tremble through your bones. You have broken in sweat and you can’t even begin to process what the fuck is happening.
“Why don’t you do it, Petra!? I’m quite busy already!”
You shout at her, angry that she is standing around doing nothing.
“I-I’m scared!”, she whimpers pathetically.
“Well, get over it! Do something for yourself for a change!”
As you shout at her, the door is pushed open and you fall over. A claw reaches from behind the door and tries to grab you, but you are already rolling away. Standing up immediately you feel a bit dizzy, probably because of the adrenaline rush. You grab Petra’s arm and run towards the window in order to jump through it. You have no clue if your strength and your speed are going to be enough, but you charge with your injured forearm in front of you, while also lowering your head and squeezing your eyes shut.
After the loud crash and the piercing pain of glass cutting your flesh, you fall to the yard while also pulling Petra out with you. You briefly look back and see that part of the horde is now inside the room. You notice the tween staggering around, and you push her to keep running alongside the wall of the mansion.
“Keep going!”, you shout, almost breathless. “We’ll need to enter through another window, or the first door we see!”
Your eyes start to scan the surroundings for another possible entry point. Fortunately, a door is only several feet away from you both, but as you pass by some windows you notice dark, beast-like figures trying to get out through them. You must have drawn further monsters in with the sound of shattering glass, but there’s no time to think.
You hear muffled noises coming from inside the mansion, and a couple of windows are shaking violently.
You reach the door, and press your back against the wall next to it. Petra, who can’t stop crying and whimpering, hides behind you from the source of the noises. After catching your breath for a brief moment, you slowly open the door. The dimly lit hallway in front of you is deserted, but it won’t be for long. You don’t recall ever having entered the mansion through this side door, and you would need some time to find your bearings regarding how to locate Rem’s room again. What if those random monsters sensed her presence inside and have already broken in? As your heart beats hard against your ribcage, you try to clear your mind of anything but the path in front of you.
You both start walking along the hallway, staying close to the wall so that any potential pursuers would have a harder time spotting you. Although Petra is trying to stay quiet, her tremors pass from her hand to yours. As the oppressive silence continues, the beastly noises from before grow louder. Your heart sinks. Petra can’t help but sob. You can’t get anywhere with those beasts walking around, and you can’t fight them.
Your stabbed shoulder hurts and burns, your bitten arm keeps bleeding and dripping onto the floor, and you have gotten so dizzy that you feel as if you are running through a nightmare. You won’t be able to push yourself for much longer. You head for the first door you see, you open it, you push Petra inside and then close the door behind you. You motion for Petra to crouch against the door and keep quiet.
The room is small, one of the smallest bedrooms you’ve seen on this mansion. For now it’s the safest place around. You take a deep breath and try to calm down your racing heart. As you wait in silence, you wonder whether or not you should open the window to check if the coast is clear outside.
You aren’t sure how much time you have spent sitting on the floor while leaning against the door. Petra is clutching to your shirt while trembling in terror. Her tears and snot keep dripping on your clothes.
Your mind keeps trying to wander off into insanity, maybe as a defense mechanism. Nothing that has happened ever since you parted ways with the only two people who can fight has made any sense. Truly there can’t be a bunch of demonic-looking monsters that came out of nowhere pursuing you. Not even someone who was born in this insane world understands why that would happen.
You feel Petra touching and tugging something on your wrist, a piece of cloth.
“Y-You are still wearing it, Mr. Natsuki”, she whispers as quietly as possible, sounding half-crazed. “I-I’m so glad I could help keeping you s-safe.”
You don’t understand what she means until you look where she’s touching. It’s a handkerchief which for some reason is tied around your wrist. Why would you be wearing a handkerchief as an accessory? Ah, the tween tied it around your wrist before you left, because of superstition. You had forgotten it was there.
You also speak as quietly as humanly possible.
“That you bring up me or any of us remaining safe when there are a bunch of monsters roaming around outside of this room, hoping to tear us apart and possibly eat us alive, and if they don’t we will probably still get killed by the most dangerous serial killer in this world, must be one of those delusions that dumb people cling to when they are about to die. It’s okay, though. You are only twelve, you have the right to be irrational.”
Petra doesn’t answer, and instead keeps trembling and crying almost uncontrollably. You fear that she’s going to end up pissing herself. The smell would likely attract quite a few monsters.
With both of your hands you hold Petra’s mess of a face, with tears and snot running down, to force her to hold your gaze.
“Petra, we can’t just stay here without doing anything. Waiting won’t help us. Truly, if the monsters don’t get us, the serial killer will, because she seemed likely to win against our friends.”
“Th-Then…”
“I will leave through this door and I will try to drive the monsters away from this room. Once you hear them leave, try to climb down to the yard through the window, and run away. Keep running until you reach your village, in fact. You might even spot Patrasche in the yard. My ground dragon is a good girl, she will probably help you even though she must be worried sick about what’s going on.”
“But I… I’ll leave you behind!”
You would be lying if the fact that she is so loyal doesn’t make you feel at least a little good.
“That’s the whole point. I’m ordering you to do so. That’s your chosen profession, isn’t it, obeying the unreasonable requests of noble-like people? Then be a good servant. Shut your damn mouth and do as I say.”
Your harsh words cause her crying eyes to glisten with determination for a moment. She nods. You move her away from the door so you can stand up and open it. You pull the door slowly towards you and make sure there aren’t any monsters in the immediate vicinity. You then exit to the hallway, look at Petra’s face for the last time in this life and close the door behind you.
You walk slowly down the hallway while keeping an eye and an ear out for monsters or their growls and shrieks. You need to find your bearings so you can figure out how to reach Rem’s room from here. And you aren’t even sure what you will do if you do get to your comatose girlfriend’s side. Will you give her a piggyback ride with your injured body, and will you escape the mansion while weighted down and being hunted by both those random monsters and Elsa Granhiert? You are acting out of delusional defiance, but you still feel it’s better than to give up and die.
You get past a stairway to the second floor, and it serves as a landmark for your panicked mind. If you turn around a couple of corners you should be able to sprint down a hallway and reach your Rem. However, as you turn the first one, a lone monster you have never seen before, a pig-sized, insectoid-like creature with vicious teeth, seems to have lost the pack and is skittering across the carpet. You have no choice but to go that way, so you start running towards it. You kick at it, but it dodges. These horrid things seem to have had far more experience at surviving in this world than you, and have been far more successful at it. You run past the monster, but a glance tells you that the insectoid-like creature is getting ready to pursue you. You reach the corner and turn, hoping to reach the hallway that leads to Rem. After making it halfway down the next corridor, you hear a hideous shriek behind you, the high-pitched scream is of a creature spotting its prey. Even though you’d prefer not to, you glance over your shoulder and see that a couple of the black, furry creatures with a horn coming out of their forehead, one of which had made a mess out of your left arm, are exiting a room, followed by some other monsters. One of the creatures looks like a black, hairless monkey with an oversized head and blood-stained mouth, which is currently emitting an otherworldly screech.
That sight gives you the burst of adrenaline you need to reach the end of the corridor. You finally spot Rem’s door, maybe around ten doors away. Perhaps you can still save her. You start running towards it at full speed.
“Come on, come on!”, you whisper to yourself, your eyes trained on the door.
Your body stops by itself in the middle of your path, and staggers for a moment until your burning legs can support your weight. Someone is waiting further down the hall, a woman who is facing your way. It’s Elsa Granhiert, who despite having an arm covered in blood, as well as blood having splashed the bare skin of the impossibly risky cleavage that runs down until slightly above her crotch, she’s standing still as if unharmed, and she’s offering you a welcoming, self-composed smile. At the end of her arms that she keeps at her sides she’s holding on to her blood-dyed gutting knives.
As if the Bowel Hunter wasn’t enough, you can’t help but look behind you to see a dozen monsters barrelling down the hallway towards you while growling, shrieking and pushing each other out of the way as if hoping to tear you apart and eat you first. Your legs wobble.
“Meili, that’s enough!”, the Bowel Hunter shouts, the first time you have ever heard this serial killer’s voice rise above a conversational level.
A couple of seconds later, the monsters stop on their tracks like dogs ordered to do so by the trainer who disciplined them well. They eye you as if they’d rather disobey, but the bunch of nasty, demonic-looking creatures turns around and move away. You suddenly spot a small arm peeking out from an open room, and she waves towards you, or maybe towards the Bowel Hunter. Then her whole upper torso appears. Your dizziness doesn’t allow you to focus enough on the figure, but you can tell it’s either child-sized human being or an actual child, a female with dark blue hair braided in pigtails, who wears a black cape over an also black uniform. The monsters stop near the girl, although they continue growling and shrieking as if disappointed.
“I was so close, Elsa”, the new person speaks with a mischievous, child-like voice. “It would have been fun! But if you’d rather have him, I can’t say no to you…”
“That’s right, darling”, Elsa answers. “Now be a good girl and make yourself scarce. I want some time alone with our lovely target.”
“Alright then”, the child says, disappointed.
She jumps out of the room and runs away from you while hunched over, as if she doesn’t want to be recognized or seen clearly at least. The monsters follow her like pets that don’t want to stay away from their master.
Once you understand that you won’t have to deal with horrible, mutated, demonic-looking fantasy world monsters anymore, you turn slowly towards the other monster, Elsa Granhiert, who clearly wants you to entertain her the same way you did the first time you met this contract killer. Then, Elsa wounded you mortally before you could realize what has happening. Now you have to deal with the anticipation. Besides, you keep seeing Frederica and Ram in your mind, and your throat has tightened as if someone was squeezing it.
“Did you kill my friends, Elsa…?”, you ask with a hollow voice.
The Bowel Hunter smiles as if you’ve reminded her of people she’s fond of.
“They were so lovely. They struggled to their last ounce of strength. They wished so much to keep living. And their insides looked really beautiful.”
This reality is done, you knew it already. You aren’t sure to what hope you were holding on to. Nothing in this whole universe matters anymore, but you can’t relay that to your feelings, because you have to swallow a sudden nausea, and the next time you blink, the tears that built up in your burning eyes roll down your cheeks. You lower your head and glare murderously at the contract killer.
“Although destroying that body of yours through killing you will be to a certain extent like burning down the library of Alexandria, one day I will see you die, and I will enjoy it.”
Elsa spins the knives in her hands then strikes a pose, wielding her weapons as if preparing to strike you. However, you can tell that she’s mocking you, that she doesn’t expect you to attack.
“Then please do come for me, I’m looking forward to it. That shapeshifter as well as the magic user had wisdom to share, but I won’t be able to glean even that from you. You are as weak as they come, aren’t you, boy? Only you and that shut-in spirit remain. I can even afford to take my time checking out the color of your guts before I begin the tiresome task of opening every door of this mansion.”
A wave of unspeakable weariness hits. You stagger and grab the wall to your right, squeezing your head in an attempt to stop the room from spinning. You must have lost plenty of blood already.
“Well, Elsa, this time I’m going to struggle for a bit longer even though everything is ruined.”
You take a deep breath and sprint as if you are charging against the contract killer. Elsa smiles welcomingly. As you are about to pass by Rem’s room, you reach for the handle and open the door wide open. You lunge towards the doorway as Elsa throws one of her knives at you, and you hear it strike the door behind your head. You hear her begin to complain, but when you close the door behind you, her voice disappears. You lean against the wood trying to catch your breath. As you snap out of it you realize that you aren’t in Rem’s room. You see row after row of bookshelves, and smell the musty odor of old books. Beatrice is facing you a few meters away as if receiving you, even though every other time you entered her domain she had been sitting on her chair, barely bothering to lift her gaze from her book. The hundreds of years old child librarian stares at you intensely.
Elsa must have followed you into the room she saw you enter, but the Passage spell jumped to a different door the moment you closed this one. You just led the contract killer to meet Rem.


Note from December of 2020:

This entry was the toughest to get through of all fifty six. I couldn’t get it to flow right. It must have been partially due to the fact that during these last few days I’ve felt completely out of it, in a daze, barely able to focus at work, and experiencing a delay when thinking about or reacting to everything. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me.

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.