{LUKA'S POV}
"What do you mean, 'I took care of her,' huh?!" I yell, grabbing Impaler by the collar of his cape. My hands are smoking in anger.

"Why, it's exactly what it sounds like, Luka." Executioner smiles cheerfully, standing beside me as always. I still jump. "Frostburn was weak. Her failed missions were stain on our pristine reputation. She was slated to die on this mission."

Impaler was the one who told me all this back then.

"No!" I shout, running back to the room where he and Frostburn cornered the target. Impaler lets me go. Executioner follows.

I jump through the broken window. Sure enough, Frostburn is splayed in the center of the bedroom. A metal spike juts through her abdomen. Blood pools on the floor beneath her.

The target is pinned to the wall by little metal spikes through his hands and feet. Burns from Frostburn's magic mark his skin, but cause of death is the giant metal spike through his abdomen.

Unlike the target, Frostburn still breathes. I gasp in horror and run up to her, immediately trying to lift her off of the giant spike.

She waves me off, gesturing to the walk-in closet in the corner of the bedroom. I open the doors. Cowering inside is a small child, maybe nine or ten, with black hair and grey eyes.

"No more..." Frostburn splutters weakly, coughing up blood. "No more needless death..."

Those were her final words.

I look down at the child. "Run away. As fast and as far as you can. Stay low. Stay quiet. If you get caught, I won't save you."

"I hate you!" His voice is whiny.

"Beat it!" I yell. The child glowers at me, before turning and running away. As far as I know, that child is still alive.

"You shouldn't have done that." Executioner says.

She's standing right by my side, watching the child run. I yelp and tense. I somehow forgot about her.

"I know. But at the time, I felt a sliver of morality. I didn't want to kill him when I didn't have to." I answer with a sigh, subconsciously turning so I can cremate Frostburn's body a second time.

Executioner rolls her eyes. "You're weak, Cremator."

"Luka is not weak!" A third voices interjects.

I spin around in surprise. Executioner turns slowly, as if she already knew about the presence of the new interloper in my dream.

Said interloper stands behind us with her hands on her hips. Her ice blue hair is pulled up in a high ponytail with a purple scrunchie.

She has a long sleeve shirt with orange, lime green, pale pink, and white tie-dye. Her jeans are pale pink and her shoes are lime green with one purple lace and one white lace. A color explosion, as always.

"Luka is strong!" Sylvie insists, glaring at Executioner with her hands on her hips.

"How are you here?" I demand, running up to her and grabbing her by the wrist.

"Luka is strong." Sylvie repeats, ignoring my question. Then she frowns. "Y-You're too strong."

"Huh?"

"I said, you're too strong, Luka. You're hurting me!" Her face twists in pain. She tries to pull away, trying to loosen my grip with her free hand.

I can't let her go. Not now. Executioner is right there. I can see it in the assassin's faux-bored eyes. She hasn't forgotten the last order she received from her parent, Leader:

Kill Sylvie Fullbuster.

Executioner may look uninterested, but it's a carefully curated act built by years of experience. She's a hungry leopard, pretending to be full so the prey is bold enough to get close.

The thought of watching Sylvie die, even in a dream... no, I can't risk it. I'd go insane.

"Come on, Luka." Sylvie winces, still fighting my grip with all her strength. "Stop it, seriously. You have to let go of me. You have to WAKE UP!"

I awaken, my clenched fists instinctively opening.

Sylvie is awkwardly positioned in the bed, like she was leaning over me and got pulled down. I look at our entwined hands, but Sylvie pulls back and tries to hide her wrist behind her back.

She's too slow. I see a very clear bruise is already forming in the shape of a hand. My hand. The skin of her wrist looks like it may be red and blistered from burns too. Guilt washes over me.

"I—where's Ai?" I look around.

Sylvie huffs, very much an exasperated big sister. "She finally went back to the guild. It's the middle of the night, so don't worry about Ai. You should get some more sleep. I'll keep watch."

"No."

Sylvie blinks in surprise. "Eh?"

I stand up, brushing lint off my clothes. Thankfully, I feel well-rested. "I'm leaving."

"What? Why?!" She jumps up and blocks the door.

I pick her up and set her to the side, out of my way. "Because I think I know who the serial killer is. The one who set me up, the one who hates me."

"Okay. So when are we leaving?" Sylvie asks, her expression turning stony with determination as she stubbornly follows me out the door.

I shake my head. We both know she isn't included in my plans. "Sylvie, you are my limiter. I need you, but not right now. Right now, I have to hunt this guy. I have to go back to my old ways."

"I'm not letting you!" Sylvie insists, forming icy manacles around my wrists.

"Tell Mum I'm sorry."

"Lu—"

"Let go." I demand, glaring at her angrily. Sylvie straightens up, eyes widening. I make use of her distraction to quickly shatter my icy confines.

"No fair!" Sylvie protests. "That's cheating!"

I close the distance, pinching the pressure point in the neck that knocks anybody out cold.

Sylvie's eyes roll up into the back of her head and she falls into my waiting arms. I carry her back into Natsu's house and gently tuck her into bed.

I can almost hear Executioner, cackling in the back of my mind: Yes... revert to being an assassin. Turn back into the Cremator I raised!

"Shut up." I say aloud.

*meanwhile, elsewhere in Magnolia*
{NO ONE'S POV}
"Useless! Useless! Useless!" The young man shouted at all of the glass containers surrounding him. They were all different shapes, from bottles to jam jars.

Each container held one floating orb of light. There were hundreds, the only sources of light in the dark and cramped room. A twin-size bed was shoved into the corner, but otherwise the room only contained dozens of shelves full of containers.

Each orb of light was unique, varying in color, size, and brightness. Some floated calmly in the center of their jar, while others bounced off the walls of their bottles as if trying to break the glass and escape.

The young man was shoving the little lights back into their containers and sealing them tightly. Letting them all out at once hadn't worked.

"Why isn't he showing his true colors already?" He lamented, pulling his hair out in frustration.

Three particularly bright lights stood out from the rest. These were the ones that had troubled his enemy most. The first was a smaller orb, younger than the other two and glowing hot pink. The second was a stoic pale white, like a pristine Rune Knight's uniform. The third—by far the largest—shone an intense icy silver with hints of blue. Cold but fiery.

The young man picked up the mason jar containing the icy fire orb. "You'll keep helping me, won't you?"

The orb was still for a second, then it bobbed up and down. It glowed brighter, the light reflected in the young man's crazy grey eyes.