— Lex Imperium IV, Tachyonia Primaria

  The sun hung mercilessly high despite it being early morning, its incandescence casting judgment upon Ocarina's streets. Where vibrant life once flowed through downtown's arteries, an oppressive pallor now reigned. The air crackled—a volatile mixture of anticipation, bloodlust, and twisted justice radiating from the colosseum that loomed at the city's heart. Though its structure paled against its inspiration in San Corona's royal capital, its presence commanded the same dread and reverence, its purpose unchanged:

  To execute violators of Tachyonia Primaria.

  A hushed silence settled over the gathering crowd, broken only by occasional murmurs and the restless shuffle of feet against marble. The spectators—a sea of faces young and old—displayed a disturbing eagerness, their eyes glinting with an almost insatiable thirst for retribution. The tragic loss of their young lord had swept them into a fever pitch of bloodlust.

  The nobles and Narma family relations occupied the coveted center seats, their elevated position a physical manifestation of status. Marcella Narma sat draped in mourning black, her eyes hollowed by endless nights of grief. Beside her, her husband Cagliostro's face bore the etched lines of determination and vengeance befitting the patriarch of the Narmas.

  The colosseum stood as a grim architectural testament to their mood. Its rough-hewn stone walls bore witness marks from countless such spectacles of "justice." Banners bearing the Narma crest snapped in the wind, their vivid colors somehow stained by tragedy's shadow.

  As minutes ticked past, the crowd's restless energy coalesced into a chant that rose like a venomous tide.

  “Down with the Irregular!”

  “Curse the demon!”

  “Spill his blood!”

  “Make him suffer!”

  Each syllable punctuated their collective hatred for those deemed unworthy in the empire’s rigid hierarchy. The chant served as a reminder of the power wielded by the privileged few who could harness Thaumaturgy's forces.

  At the heart of the colosseum, a grand stage had been set. A large, embroidered silver cross, its intricate design illuminated by a pulsating surge of prana, dominated the cobblestone ground. The ethereal glow emanating from the symbol seemed to possess a life of its own, casting shadows upon the faces of both the condemned and the accusers.

  As execution's moment drew near, tension crystallized in the air until it became almost tangible. Each heartbeat seemed to echo, each breath drawn in desperate anticipation. They stood upon a precipice where justice's true nature would be tested, where reality's comfortable veil would be torn away, and shadows' secrets would finally emerge into cruel daylight.

  The crowd's bloodlust grew wilder, chants merging into a symphony of hatred. To them, Giovanni Narma had been Ocarina's budding heart—to kill something yet to reach full bloom was a transgression against not just humanity, but against their city's very pride.

  Head Chief Gambino Russo of Ocarina's IPA strode to center stage, assuming the executioner's mantle. His subordinate Jonas Lucius followed, clutching papers that would serve as the condemned final confession.

  "Rejoice, subjects of Ocarina! Today, your desires shall be answered! Today, your wishes granted! Today, justice will be dealt in this colosseum our founders built for this sacred purpose!"

  He motioned guards to their positions around the cross as the crowd devoured his words, drunk on promised vengeance. Their voices merged into a mad chorus.

  "Demon!"

  "Murderer!"

  "Slash him!"

  "Hear me, my people!" Gambino raised his arms skyward, hands clenched and teeth bared. "Today, evil shall be purged! Today, your beloved star's murderer faces justice! This very day, you taste sweet revenge!"

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  The crowd's answering roar shook the marble.

  "Down with the Irregular!"

  "Curse the demon!"

  "Spill his blood!"

  "Make him suffer!"

  Their vicious thirst for vengeance had taken root. There would be no turning back. This was the way of things. This was how it had always been.

  "For the Second Degree Murder of Giovanni Copernicus Narma, I bring you the prime suspect, deemed guilty under the eyes of Tachyonia Primaria."

  From the colosseum's darkest depths emerged a lone figure, his silhouette made ominous by crimson light. Pale skin gleamed like porcelain against the prisoner's gray garb, brilliant sapphire eyes stark in a face still bearing childhood's softness. Dark hair stirred in a gentle breeze that seemed to mock the moment's gravity. A hush fell upon the assembly as the accused was led to his seat atop the cross, escorted by guards whose grip spoke more of ceremony than necessity. Heavy chains chafed his wrists as he faced the sea of expectant faces, his usual nonchalance tested by the false accusation's weight. His eyes, devoid of emotion, swept across the crowd gathered to witness his fall. And so, the accused stood at the cross, his hands tied behind his back and his eyes set forward.

  "The guilty shall be scourged by Arx Ignea—immortal Regalia of Lord Giorno Copernicus Narma!" Gambino's proclamation rang out as air molecules around the cross began to heat. "As Ocarina's founder, his Arx Ignea still burns with righteous retribution's flames. It shall burn not only in lamentation for his fallen descendant, but to purge evil from the world itself! Only then will justice be served!"

  The air around the cross shimmered, death's visage cloaking silver embroidery in fire's promise.

  "Spill his blood!"

  "Make him suffer!"

  "Demon!"

  "Slay him!"

  Gambino's gaze lifted to where Cagliostro sat with his wife in the nobles' section. The patriarch rose, cold calculation evident in every line of his face. His hand descended in a single swift motion.

  No pardon would come.

  Under the audience's deafening bloodlust, the guards yanked the boy against the cross that blazed indignantly. Arx Ignea demanded a sinner's soul.

  The crowd's frenzy reached new heights as they realized vindication's moment had arrived. Their faces twisted in savage ecstasy, more beast than human. The very air trembled beneath emotion's assault as they jeered for the Irregular’s death once again, only silenced by Gambino’s booming voice.

  "Let it be known that it is the intrinsic burden of the mighty to dominate the mightless.”

  The guards holstered the boy onto the cross.

  "Thus, it is also the burden of the mightless to submit to the mighty."

  Though chains bound him past movement, Acacia's eyes swept the crowd one final time. They howled profanities and clawed air like participants in some primitive ritual. The sight filled him with a distant sort of dread—of humanity's capacity for madness. Another sharp tug on his chains lifted him skyward, suspended like a puppet awaiting its final performance. His heart hammered against his ribs.

  They stripped him of everything—dignity, freedom, and soon, life.

  "This is the natural equilibrium of the world."

  Arx Ignea—the fiery citadel—roared to life, consuming Acacia in hellfire.

  A maelstrom of emotion coursed through his veins: regret, sorrow, guilt, pain, fear, despair... all intermingling until individual feelings lost meaning, leaving him stupefied in shock's embrace. He couldn't scream—no, he wouldn't scream. No one remained to hear him. No one lived who would care.

  All that existed was Arx Ignea, justice's inferno.

  It would consume him wholly, burn away his humanity until nothing remained but a husk filled with hatred and vindication.

  But he refused to die.

  Within the audience's rapturous cheers, Cagliostro Narma's smile spread ear to ear, yet his eyes registered something that chilled his blood.

  Why did the boy wear his exact same smile?

  "[Mutare.]"

  The words were but a whisper, yet silver liquid poured around the boy's body like divine ichor. It congealed and swirled around him, eventually coating his entire form. The metallic essence seemed to awaken, responding to unseen commands. It surged from Acacia's burning frame in a torrential cascade. Arx Ignea's flames vanished, replaced by a violently twisting silver barrier that enveloped the cross. None could see through its metallic sheen—it shielded Acacia from the fate they'd chosen for him.

  But this was no divine intervention.

  It was mercury.

  "M-Mercutio?! How dare you! You wish to defend this Irregular?!" Gambino roared, his voice almost lost amid the crowd's chaos and the swirling mercury barrier.

  Jonas's expression crumbled as realization struck.

  "Mercutio... the Lord of Mercury? We stand no chance if she's involved!"

  ” Gambino's desperate thoughts reached through their [Ley Line] connection. “

  ” Cagliostro's mental response came cold and calculating, still unmoved from the nobles' seats.

  ”

  Cagliostro dismissed the link, and thus, Gambino was left to his own devices.

  Paralysis seized Gambino's mind and body. The legendary Mercutio who had decimated whole battalions in World War III… he was ordered to fight her?

  The crowd's bloodthirsty chants reached fever pitch.

  "Make him suffer!"

  "Death to the demon!"

  "Let justice be done!"

  At that moment, Gambino’s eyes flared. But just as he resolved himself to extinguish Acacia, the bulwark of mercury vanished, and the boy was nowhere to be seen.