Thud. Thud. Thud.

I stumbled out of bed, splashed cold water on my face, and staggered out onto the mezzanine overlooking the living room. My breath hitched in my throat.

Oh… This is… Hell…

The sheer volume of boxes was staggering. They weren't just stacked; they were arranged in haphazard columns, forming a disorienting maze. We were tiny mice, forced to navigate towering cardboard canyons. They hadn't reached the ceiling yet, but even so… The glorious, soaring windows were half-blocked by walls of dusty old paper. No less than ten harried workers were ferrying in more, their movements creating a constant rustling and shuffling sound.

I was profoundly grateful for the ensuite bathrooms; at least we wouldn't have to navigate a labyrinth to piss. And then I remembered a distinct, primal roar echoing from downstairs earlier – a sound that could only have come from a deeply displeased Levi. It seemed his territorial pronouncements regarding the kitchen had been heeded. But everywhere else… the hallways, the corners of the living room not yet consumed by the initial wave, even the edges of the dining room… we were being flooded by a tide of laws.

One careless flick of a lighter, one errant spark, and this entire house would erupt into a glorious inferno.

I stayed put on the balcony. Levi, however, was a spectacle: a dark aura radiating from him as he stood amidst the industrious workers. I could practically see the fumes of annoyance wafting from his very being. Poor man. He finally succumbed, raising both hands to his face as if attempting to physically block out the horror.

The pandemonium unfolding below wasn't quite the sensory overload for me. Years spent on various chaotic film sets, surrounded by bustling crews, shouted instructions, and the general organized disarray of a production, had somewhat inoculated me to this level of frantic activity. But while my eyes were fine, my nose wasn't. The air, thick with the disturbed dust of ages, finally found its way up to the balcony. The musty, almost acrid scent of decaying paper filled my nostrils. A series of uncontrollable sneezes wracked my body. Damn it all.

With a weary grunt, the last cardboard box was deposited. Levi, clapped his hands together sharply, the sound echoing through the box-filled space. "Get. Out. Of. My. House."

"I should have just burned them all," Levi muttered, his voice muffled by the hands pressed firmly against his face. "I shouldn't have bothered with the legality. A glorious inferno… that's what they deserved. Every single noble insect, reduced to ash."

But amidst the towering cardboard and Levi's simmering rage, there was one rather significant oversight. The assistant. I hadn't even registered her presence amidst the throng of workers. She had been there, silently witnessing Levi's barely contained fury and overhearing every single one of his increasingly violent pronouncements regarding the "noble insects." I needed to intervene, and quickly, before Levi moved on.

"Why did I even bother?" Levi continued, his voice still muffled but now laced with a calm tone. "A simple paralytic agent in their morning meal. They could feel every agonizing moment, every twitch and spasm, but remain utterly incapable of uttering a single plea for help."

Oops. We were definitely venturing into Levi's preferred repertoire of retribution fantasies.

"No, no," he continued, his voice taking on a thoughtful quality. "Paralysis… too clinical. It lacks a certain… theatricality. I should hear their screams, yes. Drag their disgusting, entitled bodies across the capital, utterly bare, and let the cobblestones do their work. Hm… No, not quite enough. Something… more personal."

"Or perhaps," Levi mused, his gaze now fixed on some unseen point in the distance, a smile playing on his lips, "a more… nuanced approach. Instead of crude physicality, one could explore the fascinating realm of influence. Subtle manipulations, perhaps… pharmacological or even… neurological. Imagine them," he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper, "uttering the most inane platitudes with utter conviction, their bodies moving to perform the most pathetically mundane tasks, all while believing they are acting of their own volition. A living puppet show, their arrogance and authority eroded not by screams and bruises, but by the creeping realization of their utter lack of genuine agency." He tapped a finger thoughtfully against his chin. "Yes… the living marionettes. There's a certain… elegance to that.”

Gods… This elaborate planning of psychological torture is probably his favorite pastime, isn't it?

Driven by concern for the traumatized assistant, I abandoned my perch. I navigated the chaotic landscape, leaping over cardboard fortresses to reach Levi, who was still lost in his disturbing reverie, and the unfortunate assistant, rigid and pale behind a towering stack. I firmly placed my palm over Levi’s mouth.

"Shut up, Levi," I said firmly, but with a touch of gentle exasperation. "Also, good morning. And seriously, shut up before you manage to make your new assistant resign before she's even had her first cup of coffee. Go to the kitchen," I urged, gently steering him in that direction, "and make yourself some excessively hot chocolate or whatever arcane beverage soothes your dark soul." Levi let out a frustrated groan against my hand. I understood his torment, in a way, so I didn't press him further. With another heavy sigh, he pulled his head back and trudged towards the kitchen.

I turned my attention to the poor assistant, her vibrant green eyes wide and unfocused, her small frame completely rigid. She wasn't even looking at me; her mind likely replaying Levi's chilling pronouncements on repeat, a frantic internal monologue screaming, 'What in the seven hells am I doing here?'

I turned my attention to the assistant: vibrant green eyes wide and unfocused, small frame completely rigid. "Good morning," I said, my voice soft and reassuring. "I'm Raphael. He can be… a little intense, especially first thing in the morning. Trust me, he's not always like this. This morning was just… a little much for him to process. Don't worry about it. I'll personally ensure he makes you a very nice, strong cup of coffee. How does that sound?"

"I… I don't feel my legs, sir," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Yeah, I know," I said gently, my grip on her arms firm but reassuring. "Shift your weight to me, okay? I'll carry you to your room."

"N-No… I…" she stammered, her whole body still trembling like a leaf in a storm.

"It's alright," I soothed. "Take a deep breath with me, hm? In… and out…" I demonstrated. "Good. One more. In… and out… That's it. Now, I'll bring you some water, alright?”

"Can he… do that? That… things…" she whispered, her eyes flicking nervously towards the kitchen where Levi had retreated.

Without a shadow of a doubt.

"No," I said, offering the assistant a reassuring smile. "He is a little creative, that's all. Now, tell me your name, hm?"

What a monumental understatement. He's probably in the kitchen right now, drowning his sorrows in a mountain of hot chocolate and ice cream, all while mentally detailing the precise angles and methods for severing noble tendons. Wait a minute… tendon severing? Where did that even come from? Fuck. Levi's brand of creative problem-solving is clearly starting to rub off on me. This is not good.

"I am… Rosa." she whispered, her voice still trembling slightly, her wide green eyes fixed on me. "Sir…"

"Don't call me sir, Rosa. I'm Raphael," I said, offering her a smile. This poor woman. With her soft auburn hair framing a rather innocent face, her fear was palpable. Fuck you, Finn. What in the blazes were you thinking, sending this woman into the lion's den?

Wait, no. That wasn't right. Anyone would be terrified by a man calmly detailing methods of paralysis and public humiliation. That was a normal reaction. Gods, had I really become so desensitized to Levi's… eccentricities? Maybe I'm the one who's not normal here.

I took Rosa's arm, and guided her to the least box-encumbered section of the living room, easing her down onto the couch. I navigated the cardboard jungle to the kitchen, where, as predicted, Levi was preparing himself a steaming mug of hot chocolate, the spoon clinking rhythmically against the ceramic. However, his lips were still moving.

"The actual fuck, Levi?" I hissed, my voice low but sharp. "You scared poor Rosa into absolute oblivion."

Levi looked up from his stirring. "It was not my intention, Raphael. A momentary lapse in… internal monologue control. I will, of course, apologize."

"No," I countered firmly, placing a hand on his arm before he could march back into the living room. "Don't just go barging in there and potentially traumatize her further with your 'sincere' apologies. First, make her a genuinely nice cup of coffee. A peace offering. Then, you can attempt to express your apology.”

He let out a dramatic sigh, the kind that suggested he was being asked to perform a task far beneath his intellectual capabilities. "Alright, Raphael," he conceded, though his tone still held a hint of long-suffering. "I will present her with… peace offerings." He then turned to the espresso machine. Next, he moved to the cabinet where he kept his homemade cookies.

Wow. My magnificent, fiercely possessive lion, willingly sharing his painstakingly crafted macadamia nut cookies.

Let me rewind my brain. I told Finn, explicitly, that a lion wouldn't hunt a mouse. Is that why that Finn sent this woman?

Ah, Finn. You thought you were being clever, didn't you? A touch of kindness, a gentle presence to ease Levi's… transition. Oh, you sweet, well-intentioned idiot. Your "kind heart," has backfired so spectacularly, so catastrophically, that a part of me, a very small, hysterically detached part, wants to throw my head back and laugh at the sheer irony of it all.

A steaming mug of brewed coffee sat on a tray, accompanied by a separate plate laden with his precious macadamia nut cookies. His own comforting hot chocolate mug completed the tableau. He stood waiting for me, a silent invitation to lead the way, the tactical mind assessing the optimal approach to minimize further… incidents.

I went first, offering Rosa a reassuring smile as I re-entered the living room, Levi following silently behind me. Poor Rosa was still perched on the edge of the couch, but the initial shock seemed to have receded slightly.

Considering the homicidal ideations that had been swirling moments before, Levi gently placed the tray on the coffee table. Then, in a voice that was a calming baritone he spoke. "Please excuse my rather… uncouth language and disturbing pronouncements earlier, Rosa. And allow me to offer my sincerest apologies for any distress I may have caused."

She reached for the offered coffee, her hands visibly trembling as she wrapped them around the warm mug. "Thank you… It was a bit… disturbing."

I mean, the specifics of his fantasies didn't exactly send shivers down my spine anymore, but the casualness of his delivery, the utter lack of social filter… yeah, that was objectively unsettling. Damn it. Levi's internal landscape was apparently so normalized for me that I was grading his near-psychotic ramblings on a curve.

Levi, had settled back with his own mug, his gaze sweeping over the chaotic scene of his once-pristine living room. "Allow me to reiterate my apologies," he said, his deep voice regaining its soothing timbre. "This has been a rather… taxing morning. To have my personal sanctuary invaded by such a multitude of individuals, and," he gestured at the stacks of boxes with his cup, "these… dusty repositories of archaic nonsense clearly frayed my already delicate sensibilities. Please be assured," he concluded, his gaze meeting hers with an intensity that might have been reassuring if you didn't know what had been going through his head moments before, "such an… unseemly display will never, under any circumstances, be repeated."

His 'delicate sensibilities'? Oh, for crying out loud. That's such a monumental load of utter bullshit it's almost comical. But… damn it, it was a remarkably effective apology, wasn't it?

I cleared my throat. "As I mentioned earlier, Rosa, my husband can be… a little intense at times, especially when his personal space is compromised. However," I continued, meeting her gaze with a reassuring smile, "please be absolutely certain that this morning's… theatrical display will not be repeated. We've prepared a comfortable guest bedroom for you, ensuring your privacy and safety during your stay. And please, do not hesitate to call on me for anything at all."

"Thank you. I am still a little… unsettled. But I appreciate your reassurance and the offer of help," Rosa said, her voice still carrying a faint tremor but her gaze meeting mine with a newfound steadiness.

Hm… That's the second time she's openly acknowledged her fear. Wait a minute… Honesty. And a quiet strength in admitting that fear. Finn, you magnificent bastard. You sent someone with a quiet courage, someone who wouldn't shrink away from the lion's roar but would stand her ground, trembling perhaps, but unwavering in her honesty. Wow. My apologies for the mental insults, Finn. You might actually be a genius after all.

Levi waved a dismissive hand. "To be perfectly candid, Rosa," he stated, his voice regaining its usual crisp clarity, "as everyone of consequence in Ascaria is aware, I dedicated fifteen years of my life to systematically dismantling the power structures upheld by those very nobles. What you overheard were merely… rather visceral thought experiments, byproducts of the extreme frustration induced by the current circumstances."

He then rose from the couch and strode towards the nearest towering box. With a dramatic sigh, he selected one of the ancient tomes nestled within.

"Now," he announced, his attention now fully fixed on the brittle pages, "let us delve into the putrid heart of the very laws we are now forced to contend with. Observe this gem: 'A noblewoman, regardless of her title, including even duchesses of the highest standing, is expressly forbidden from physically defending herself against any form of abuse perpetrated by her male kin, including her own husband.'" His voice dripped with disdain.

"I… I can see why that would make you angry. That's… terrible," Rosa said softly, her initial fear seeming to be overshadowed by a dawning comprehension of the deep-seated injustice Levi was railing against.

Levi, was already reaching for another box, his movements driven by a restless fury. "Ah, but the legally sanctioned subjugation within marriage is but a mere footnote in this compendium of societal filth," he declared, extracting another brittle file with a grimace. "This particular gem predates even modern Ascarian legal frameworks. This cherished piece of our collective history explicitly states that noble men are not only permitted to publicly shame commoner women but are also entitled to solicit sexual favors from them with impunity."

It must feel like being dragged back to square one. Maybe this deep dive into legal obscenity is actually therapeutic for both of them. Levi gets to vent his righteous anger, and Rosa gets a clearer understanding of the 'why' behind his earlier… intensity.

Levi’s hand shot out again, snatching another aged document with a visible shudder. “Ah! And what about this festering obscenity?” he practically snarled, his voice rising. “Did you even know a century ago, these self-proclaimed ‘elites’ were legally entitled to own… slaves? Can you even begin to fathom the depths of depravity, the casual brutality they inflicted upon those souls?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, already grabbing another file as if it were a venomous snake. “And this… this is a particularly insidious form of torment. A mere two decades ago, noblewomen were condemned to lifelong misery, denied the basic human right to divorce, even if their husbands were philandering, sadistic monsters capable of any imaginable cruelty!”

He picked up yet another file, a grim fascination etched on his face. “Hm… this one has a certain… brutal simplicity. Apparently, if a commoner dared to neglect a deferential salute or bow to a passing noble, the penalty was fifty lashes of the whip.”

"And people… people actually lived like this? And enforced these laws?" Rosa whispered, her voice laced with a fresh wave of horror.

Levi snorted. "Ah, please, these dusty pronouncements are mere trivialities, pale shadows of the true depravity. Did you know that until I systematically dismantled their archaic system, the nobility possessed absolute immunity from the very laws they crafted and enforced upon the common folk? Immunity! They could commit any atrocity they desired, a casual bribe to the local constabulary their only consequence before resuming their lives of entitled cruelty. This," he gestured dismissively at the open file, "is nothing. The true horror lies within my study. These are mere laws. What of their actual, unspeakable crimes against humanity itself? These legal abominations are akin to a pleasant stroll in a manicured garden when compared to the true extent of their reign of terror upon this country. My stomach still churns with a visceral disgust whenever I recall even a fraction of their vile legacy."

"So… that's what you fought against. That's why you… you feel so strongly about this," Rosa said, her gaze now one of understanding.

"Yes," Levi affirmed. "It hardly excuses my… rather vivid articulation of my frustrations this morning. But as someone born into that very system, I can tell you that I loathed nearly every single second of that existence. Eventually," his voice dropped, a shadow passing over his features, "I ended that life, hoping to escape its grip. And yet… here I am. All over again. It's as if the universe itself possesses a rather cruel sense of humor, determined to make me savor the irony of battling the ghosts of my past in such a… literal fashion."

I crooked a finger at Levi, silently beckoning him. My poor, magnificent lion. He was so utterly justified in his rage. He grabbed another file and settled beside me on the couch.

"Let's peruse this enlightening document together, shall we, my dear?" he said, his voice laced with calm as he held up the brittle parchment. "According to this delightful piece of legal trivia, should a commoner so much as set foot on noble property during the summer months, the nobles were legally entitled to… 'hunt' them down. Yes. Because their very status as 'commoners' rendered them akin to mere vermin, fit only for sport." He then tossed the document onto the coffee table with a heavy thud. "Utterly disgusting," he muttered, the word a low growl in his throat.

"It's beyond disgusting, Levi," I murmured, my own stomach churning at the casual brutality enshrined in that law. "I can't even begin to fathom the other horrors lurking in those boxes."

Levi, his gaze fixed on the scattered documents as if they were venomous creatures, suddenly turned to Rosa. "The first file you can reach, Rosa. Pick it up and read it aloud, please."

Rosa's hand trembled slightly as she reached for the file closest to her feet. She opened it gingerly, her eyes scanning the contents silently for a long moment, her expression shifting from hesitant curiosity to a dawning horror that made her visibly recoil. She swallowed hard, her knuckles whitening as she clenched her small fists.

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"According to this," she began, her voice laced with disbelief and revulsion, "A noble lord can have sexual relations with a newly married commoner woman on her wedding night... before her husband. Also... if the noble lord deems it appropriate, he is entitled to engage in sexual relations on the anniversary of a national holiday... and upon the birth of a child."

Levi's jaw was a rigid line, the muscles in his temples twitching ominously. "Now," he stated, his voice controlled, "I believe even you, Rosa, might concede that my earlier… unrefined vocabulary was, perhaps, not entirely without merit. And," he continued, his gaze settling on her, "you will have the distinct pleasure of spending your days here, transcribing these vile pronouncements into a digital format, only for us to then systematically dismantle and erase them from the legal record. Yes," he concluded, a bitter smile twisting his lips, "the universe does seem to possess a particularly cruel sense of irony today."

"Shit, Levi…" I muttered, shaking my head in disbelief. "I hadn't even begun to imagine the half of it…"

Levi let out a ragged breath, his gaze distant. "Dear Raphael," he said, his voice thick with a weariness that cut deeper than any anger, "what about the laws governing the disabled, stripping them of basic rights and dignity? What about the criminalization and persecution of gay people, simply for loving? What about the utter lack of protection for animals? Or the oppressive taxes that kept commoners in perpetual servitude, the unjust land rights that stole generations of their labor, the labor laws that treated them as expendable tools? Everything that haunted my waking hours and plagued my nightmares for decades is now staring me in the face. Ah, please, Raphael, hand me a cigarette before the simmering rage inside me ignites into a truly consuming inferno and reduces this entire house to ashes."

I swiftly retrieved my cigarette pack and lighter. He snatched one, the flame from the lighter illuminating the raw emotion in his eyes as he inhaled deeply. I lit my own. "Still indulging in those low-tar atrocities, my dearest?" Levi murmured. "At least consider switching to the orange filters. A touch of visual vibrancy amidst this moral squalor, wouldn't you agree?"

Rosa, visibly shaken, hesitated. Sensing the raw honesty in the room, she reached out, took one from the pack I slid toward her, and lit it.

A dangerous glint flickered in his eyes as he stared at the towering stacks of legal documents. "You know, Raphael," he said, his voice a low growl, "I am so tempted to flick this burning ember onto those accursed boxes and watch it all go up in flames. A cleansing fire for this festering filth."

"Then burn us all down with it, Levi? Be a good lion, yeah? Just indulge in your nicotine for now. Arson can wait…”

"No, Raphael," Levi corrected, taking another sharp drag of his cigarette, a faraway look in his eyes. "Perhaps… perhaps I should have simply burned the entire Royal Palace to the ground. A more efficient and symbolic cleansing, wouldn't you agree?"

"Stop scaring your assistant, Levi," I said, shaking my head with a mixture of exasperation and affection.

I turned to Rosa, who was still clutching her cigarette like a lifeline. "My husband," I said, offering her a reassuring smile, "possesses a rather… theatrical temperament and a certain undeniable penchant for villainy. Try not to let it unsettle you too much. You'll find it's mostly performative. You get used to it after a while. It’s his particular brand of charm.”

“So… he doesn't… actually want to burn down palaces?" Rosa asked with a hint of curiosity and apprehension.

Levi lifted his gaze to Rosa, a faint twinkle danced in his eyes. "Oh, but I do want to burn the Royal Palace down. The catharsis alone would be worth the effort. However," he sighed dramatically, flicking ash from his cigarette, "my husband, has made it abundantly clear that such an act of architectural immolation would likely result in a divorce. So, the palace remains standing, for now."

I sighed, shaking my head. "So, the architectural integrity of the Royal Palace remains intact solely for the sake of our… domestic tranquility? How very… restrained of you."

"So, the possibility of divorce is more terrifying than… burning down national landmarks?" Rosa asked after taking a drag out of cigarette.

"Indeed," Levi replied enthusiastically, as he leaned conspiratorially towards my shoulder, his arm briefly brushing mine. "Rosa, I have already made a solemn vow to my dearest Raphael. Should he ever be foolish enough to initiate a dissolution of our sacred union, I will be perfectly justified in incinerating the entirety of Ascaria. Purely out of spite, of course."

Rosa stubbed the end of her cigarette in the ashtray. "I understand, sir," she said, her voice calm and even. "That is… a rather significant commitment."

Wow. Not a single flicker of alarm. No wide-eyed terror. She absorbed that pronouncement of kingdom-level spite as if it were a minor disagreement about tea preferences. I suppose she was already acclimatizing to the unique brand of chaos that defined our existence. Either that, or the sheer volume of historical horrors had somehow recalibrated her fear response.

Levi, with a dramatic sigh, retreated into the shadowed depths of his study. I, needing a moment of quiet contemplation after that… illuminating conversation, made my way to my own bedroom. Rosa, settled herself at the large oak table in the living room, her laptop open, and began the daunting task of digitizing the files. Poor woman. Line after horrifying line, meticulously transcribed, only to then consign it all to digital oblivion. What a truly soul-crushing job.

…

The rest of that day passed with Levi remaining in his study. I imagined the sight of those towering boxes, was simply too much for him to bear.

However, the following morning shattered the fragile peace. A piercing woman's scream ripped through the quiet of the house, jolting me awake in an instant. My heart leaped into my throat. Thinking immediately of Rosa, I bolted out of bed, adrenaline coursing through my veins, and rushed towards the source of the terrifying sound.

No… It was our maid. Yeah… She was entirely justified in that bloodcurdling scream. Stepping into the main living area this morning must have been akin to entering the aftermath of a particularly vicious apocalypse, a landscape dominated by looming cardboard monoliths.

I hurried down the stairs, reaching the utterly bewildered and wide-eyed maid. "Oh, Gods, I am so sorry! So sorry you had to witness… this." I gestured vaguely at the stacks of cardboard. "It's… a bit of a mess in here at the moment. Please, absolutely do not worry about the boxes or anything in the main living areas. Just focus on the kitchen and the bedrooms, alright? Pretend the rest of the house is… under renovation.”

"S-sir…" she stammered, her gaze darting nervously. "What… what happened here? It wasn't like this yesterday."

As if summoned by the commotion, Levi emerged from his study, his hair slightly disheveled, a curious frown creasing his brow. Rosa, looking equally perplexed, appeared from the guest room, her laptop tucked under her arm.

"Raphael," Levi inquired, his voice still a bit rough with sleep, "what in the blazes is going on? Did something… untoward happen?"

"No, no, nothing at all to be concerned about," I said, perhaps a bit too quickly, forcing a reassuring smile. "Everything is perfectly fine. You two just go about your work. I've got it all under control."

Levi let out a yawn that seemed to stretch the very fabric of time. "Ah… the torture of existing before the proper infusion of both sugar and caffeine."

With a frustrated huff Levi veered towards the boxes. He strode over a few of the less stable-looking ones, his shoes making loud crunches as they connected with the cardboard. He even punctuated his advance with a particularly forceful stomp on one.

Levi, attacked the kitchen cabinet with purpose, emerging victorious with a caffeine pill and a weighty pestle and mortar. He crushed the pill into a fine white powder, then added this potent concoction to his steaming mug of hot chocolate mix. The man was practically mainlining stimulants.

"Levi…" I began, walking over to where he stood, "are you deliberately trying to send your system into some kind of hyperdrive? That looks… excessive."

"Excessive?" he echoed, a hint of pride in his voice. "Raphael, you wound me. After a decade of carefully calibrated sleep cycles, meticulously designed to optimize cognitive function and aesthetic repose, this… inconvenience has thrown everything into utter disarray. Consider this not an act of reckless self-endangerment, but a necessary recalibration. A temporary measure to restore some semblance of order to my tragically disrupted biorhythms. It breeds a level of… irritability that even I find unsettling."

Unsettling for him means the apocalypse might be slightly delayed. Right. So, no sleep plus a caffeine concoction strong enough to jump-start a dead horse… this day is going to be interesting.

"Hm…" I murmured, my hand still resting on his tense back. "Okay, then. Before your irritability manages to power a small city all by itself, how about you come back to my bedroom for a little while, hm? I was rather abruptly awakened by the… morning serenade myself. Let's just… lie down for a bit. And please, no more of hot chocolate."

Levi sighed. "I truly wish I could, but I simply cannot afford the indulgence. Since the riots concluded, that fragile buffer we had is gone. I need to implement something new, and quickly, to prevent the currency from spiraling into utter chaos." A sudden shudder wracked his body. "Gods, Raphael… I am going to have to do something so utterly disturbing, so profoundly disgusting and self-betraying… the very thought chills me to the bone."

"L-Levi?" I stammered. What could possibly be so abhorrent, so against his very nature, that it would elicit such a reaction from him? "What are you going to do? What is it?"

He abruptly turned away, as if needing a physical distraction from his disturbing thoughts. He strode to the fridge, yanked open the door, and grabbed an energy drink. He cracked open the can with a hiss and took a large gulp. "Ugh! Disgusting!" he exclaimed, his nose wrinkling. "It tastes like chilled urine that's been sweetened! And… why the infernal carbonation? As if a bit of fizz could somehow make the underlying monstrousness of this beverage any less offensive!"

"So…" I said, a relieved chuckle escaping me. "All that talk of self-betrayal and chilling your bones… was about that?" I gestured to the discarded energy drink can with a wry smile.

"Yes!" Levi exclaimed. "How does such an abomination even secure a place in the commercial landscape? I cannot fathom the twisted logic behind this… this concoction. As if it weren't enough that some deranged individual conceived of this vile liquid, they then proceeded to add… what? Artificial flavoring? Yes, truly, a desperate attempt to mask the abhorrent, underlying… essence."

I genuinely thought we were on the precipice of some morally ambiguous economic decision that would haunt us for years.

"Well…" I said, still chuckling softly, "on the other hand, all that righteous fury over a beverage did seem to snap you right out of your sleep-deprived haze."

"Oh, no, no. Allow me to demonstrate something that will truly banish any lingering vestiges of sleep from my system."

He walked towards the glass cabinet where we stored our rather extensive collection of spirits.

Wait a minute… was he contemplating breaking his sobriety?

"Rosa!" Levi's voice boomed from the kitchen. He emerged with a bottle of aged scotch clutched in one hand, striding towards the living room. I followed, my mind racing, trying to decipher the erratic trajectory of his thoughts. What in the absolute fuck was going on in that brilliant, yet utterly unpredictable, mind of his? He snatched my lighter from the coffee table.

Rosa, lifted her head from her laptop, her brow furrowed with concern. "Yes, sir?"

"Show me the digitized files, the boxes you've already processed," he commanded, his gaze intense. Rosa, with pointer finger, indicated a stack of labeled cardboard against the wall. Levi seized one of the boxes and marched to the corner between the kitchen and the living room. He then grabbed the metal trashcan, began discarding the files into its depths. The rich scent of aged scotch filled the air as he liberally doused the paper within. With a flick of my lighter, he set the contents ablaze. The flames leaped to life, hungrily consuming the paper, casting flickering shadows across his determined face.

"The fuck, Levi?!" I exclaimed, my voice rising in alarm as the flames licked higher. "Are you trying to set the entire house ablaze? We have boxes of that stuff still untouched!"

"No, my dearest Raphael," Levi replied, his gaze fixed on the dancing flames, a serenity washing over his features. "This isn't about the house, or even those wretched documents, not anymore. This… this is simply a necessary act of purification. Cleansing this pathetic excuse for a soul that has been forced to confront such profound and enduring ugliness."

He looks almost… peaceful, staring into that little inferno. ‘Pathetic soul’ is a little harsh…

"Levi…" I said, my voice a low plea. "Please… just take a breath before you trigger the sprinklers and turning our home into an indoor swimming pool filled with soggy paper." I moved swiftly to the sink, filled a glass with water, and poured it over the small but intensely burning inferno in the trashcan. The flames hissed and sputtered, the pungent smell of wet ash joining the lingering aroma of scotch.

"Smart," Levi conceded as he watched the last wisps of smoke curl upwards. "Yes, the backyard. Considerably less risk of an indoor deluge. My apologies for the momentary lapse in strategic arson planning."

Gods… he really was teetering on the edge today.

He pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead. "Not even the prospect of fine scotch could banish this… this crawling sensation. It's as if a legion of particularly unpleasant insects has taken up residence beneath my skin, their tiny legs skittering across my very bones."

"O-okay…" I said, my mind racing. "Let's just… take a breather, hm? How about we go out to the garden for a bit? Some fresh air might do us both some good."

"Yes," Levi agreed, his voice flat, his gaze still distant. "The garden. Where the Conqueror hunted."

Shit. My stomach plummeted.

"Is this some sort of cruel jest?" Levi asked, his voice laced with a bitter disbelief, the hand pressed against his face. "I dedicated my entire existence, every fiber of my being… and now? Now I am forced to confront its specter yet again, to wade through the putrid remnants of their reign."

A short, humorless laugh escaped Levi's lips. "I can just imagine it. My esteemed ancestors, those glorious paragons of aristocratic virtue, are likely having a right good chuckle from their dusty old tombs."

"And where are those… those truly vile ones?" Levi asked. "The ones written in ancient Ascarian. Those are an entirely different breed of horror altogether!"

Levi's hand shot out, his fingers gripping the edge of the nearest box with surprising force. He yanked a brittle file from within and thrust it towards me. "Look at this," he commanded, his voice tight with barely suppressed fury. "I know you can't decipher this archaic script, so listen closely." He cleared his throat. "Behold, another glorious gem from Ascaria's illustrious past: 'Following the death of a noble, specific commoner families would be legally obligated to participate in elaborate and prolonged mourning rituals, neglecting their own livelihoods and facing punishment for insufficient displays of grief.'" He punctuated his reading with violent throw, the brittle parchment sailing across the living room to join its equally damning predecessor.

Levi, navigated the landscape of boxes, heading towards the living room where Rosa was working. "Hm…" he murmured, his gaze sweeping across the chaotic scene. "Where are they? The truly, utterly vile ones? The ones that make your stomach churn just to look at the script?"

Rosa, sensing the shift in her boss's focus, glanced nervously at the stacks that obscured the morning light filtering through the high ceiling windows.

As if following her gaze, Levi clambered over a few of the sturdier boxes, his shoes thudding against the cardboard. He snatched a file from the middle of the stack, as if daring the whole edifice to collapse.

"AH!" Levi exclaimed, a new wave of outrage coloring his voice. "We've been wading through the muck of noble oppression, but let's not forget the glorious architects of this entire system! The dynasty! Do you have even the faintest comprehension of how disgustingly inbred those monarchical swine were?" He didn't wait for an answer, already flipping open the file.

"Let me just illuminate this particularly radiant facet of Ascarian history for you," Levi said, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he held the file open. "Listen to this gem: 'If a member of the royal family was born with physical or mental disabilities due to generations of inbreeding, this would not be seen as a consequence of their abhorrent practices but rather as a manifestation of divine will or a test of faith for the populace. Any questioning of the royal lineage's 'perfection' would be deemed blasphemy and severely punished.'" He finished reading with a snort of disgust and hurled the file with considerable force, sending it spinning through the air before it landed amongst its equally damning brethren.

I was... confused. Was this his way of processing? Or perhaps, was he trying to articulate the weight of his own past, the compromises he'd had to make, the darkness he'd had to navigate to build a better future? I honestly couldn't decipher the tangled web of his emotions and motivations in this moment.

"Raphael," Levi commanded, his voice sharp, his eyes burning with an intensity that brooked no argument. "Grab the first file your gaze lands upon. Any one of them. And read it. Out loud."

Not wanting to provoke him further in this volatile state, I wordlessly bent down and picked up the first brittle file my fingers brushed against.

"The firstborn of a commoner family will be considered property of the Crown for a period of no less than ten years, to be assigned to royal projects or noble estates as deemed necessary. During this period of service, the family will receive no compensation, and any attempt to evade this obligation will be met with the seizure of all family assets and the imprisonment of the remaining members.'"

Hearing Levi recount these atrocities was one thing, but reading it myself… it was a different level of horror. Vivid images flashed through my mind: children torn from their families, forced into servitude, enduring years of potential abuse and torment. My hands began to shake. The brittle file slipped from my grasp, falling to the floor with a soft thud.

"Do you feel it, Raphael?" Levi asked, his voice calm yet undercurrent with steel. "That fury, that righteous indignation? That's the very essence of what fueled generations of resentment, the simmering poison that festered beneath their gilded cages for centuries. And now," he gestured around at the chaotic piles, "they are all flooding our house. And Rosa is expected to read every single one of these vile decrees, to type them out, to register each individual act of cruelty, only then to consign these ghosts of a hateful past to oblivion. It feels… futile, doesn't it?”

Futile… yes. That’s exactly it. Like we’re forced to breathe in the stench of their cruelty before we can finally throw it in the fire. It's a monumental task, and for what? So we can file it away and say, 'Never again'? But the 'again' has already happened, countless times, etched in this very paper.

"I understand your fury, Levi, believe me, I do," I said softly, as I reached out to place a hand on his arm. "But… reading these files, immersing yourself in this endless cycle of cruelty, it's clearly not helping you. You, more than anyone, have already done the most profound thing imaginable. You need to move on. We cannot just sit here, day after day, reading these accounts and reliving every single horror, every single injustice, as if we were there. It's not healthy, and it's certainly not helping you, or Rosa, or anyone."

"Ah, Raphael…" Levi said, his voice low. "Right now… right now I am even tempted to desecrate their very memory. To go to that cursed cemetery, to exhume every single one of those aristocratic corpses, to drag their maggot-infested skeletons out into the light, just so I could spit on their bones and then… then set them all ablaze. Watch their remains turn to ash, a final, futile act of defiance against the centuries of their tyranny."

Gods… he was truly spiraling. I gripped his hand with all the strength I possessed. I pulled him firmly, and dragged him up the stairs to his bedroom. Once inside, I didn't hesitate, shoving him further into the room before turning the key in the lock.

"Get your shit together, Levi," I said, my voice firm. "And tell me, right now, where you hide your emergency stash of those infernal sugary concoctions. We both know you have one."

"Everywhere. Check every drawer."

I sighed inwardly but followed his instruction, reaching for the drawer. A familiar assortment of his belongings met my gaze: notebooks filled with his scribbles, a favorite pen, a tangled phone charger, a tube of lubricant, a packet of condoms… and yes. There they were. A bag of pastel-colored marshmallows. Pure sugar.

"My agitation towards those boxes is so overwhelming," Levi admitted, his voice still rough around the edges, "that I hadn't even fully registered the rather significant fact that another sentient being is currently cohabitating within these chaotic walls."

I didn't respond. I tore open the packet and gently shoved a sugary puff into his mouth. "Well, she's remarkably quiet. With the entire downstairs looking like an archaeological dig, she basically blends into the shadows, even though she's still sitting right there in the living room."

"Even back in the Royal Academia, I insisted on a single-person dormitory. The sheer audacity of shared living quarters… Ah, Academia." A faraway look entered his eyes, quickly replaced by a familiar gleam. "You know, this cellulose overload gives me an idea. I should probably brew a batch of concentrated acid. A truly elegant solution for mass paper disposal…"

Ah, yes. My brilliant, occasionally unhinged, mad chemist was back.

"Yeah, I suppose… in terms of not potentially burning down the entire house, acid is a definite improvement over fire," I conceded with a sigh, still slightly wary of his sudden shifts in thought. "Now. Enough with the chemical warfare fantasies. Lay down on your bed. Just close your eyes and try to sleep for at least an hour, okay?" I pushed him towards the edge of the bed, and to my relief, he didn't resist, collapsing onto his back with a weary groan.

"I should scrub myself raw with acid," he muttered, staring blankly at the ceiling, "to cleanse my very skin from the contamination of touching those tomes of depravity. As if their filth has seeped into my pores."

I lifted his legs and helped him settle more comfortably against the pillows, then carefully crawled over the expanse of the bed to lie beside him. "I woke up far too early myself," I murmured, nestling my head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear. "Let's just… let's just sleep for a little while. Even an hour will help. Then, if you still feel up to it, you can always go back to work."

He didn't say anything, but the tension in his body seemed to ease slightly as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer.

"Alright, Raphael," Levi murmured, a smirk finally gracing his lips. "Then you will bear the full responsibility for our inevitable economic collapse, brought on by this egregious act of mid-morning napping."

"Oh, hush and stop being so dramatic," I mumbled back, already feeling the edges of sleep pulling me under. "Let's just… sleep."