Before him stood a figure at a gallant height of 5ft5, emanating an enticing tomboyish charm. Her slender physique boasted well-defined muscles, and her untidy bob, with white-tipped strands seamlessly merging into her natural black locks, exuded an edgy allure.

A hooded sports jacket caught the eye, its design splitting down the middle—black melding into purple. Golden zippers and a white spider-shaped pattern adorned the jacket, marking its unique style. Beneath it, a sleeveless black crop top was paired with a short black dress accentuated by purple thigh straps.

Completing her attire was a buckled choker at her collar, fingerless gloves featuring a diamond-shaped opening outlined in purple, and lace-up boots. Loose purple leg warmers, each donning three black belts, added a rebellious touch, accompanied by black net stockings.

But her most arresting feature lay in her eyes—glaring heterochromia. A golden right eye and a purple left one emitting a radiant glow in the dark, framed by miniature pitch-black irises.

 

"Guid mornin' tae ye, mah dear Monarch," she greeted with warmth as though meeting her most cherished person in the world.

"Could you... turn off your song, please? You're giving me and my friend here ear cancer," Boss remarked, puzzled by the bass-boosted rendition of 'Scottish The Brave' playing in the background as if she were a final boss.

"Sorry lads, Ah left mah theme song running," Noira clapped her hands a few times, and the music ceased. "Thare we gang. Happy?"

"Appreciated. And I would be happier if you wouldn't call me that."

"Whit dae ye mean? Tis yer name—Oh... ." A sudden realization. "Richt, memetic. Sorry about that, mate." Noira clasped her hands in apology.

 

They both stood in silence, staring for a long moment.

 

"Na reaction? Na fightin'? Na anythin'?" Noira broke the silence with disappointment.

"Please, this is not a pub. Mama raised a gentleman, not a barbarian."

"Awwww~ sae chivalry's nae deid," the girl remarked.

"Stop messing around and cut straight to the point. What the fuck do you want?"

 

The tense atmosphere crackled with escalating tension as Mnemon's voice cut through the air, bearing an entirely different energy. In addition, an ominous and unseen aura radiated from the crow, distorting the surroundings like shattering glass. Boss, taken aback by the unexpected shift in Mnemon's tone, attempted to calm his friend. While Boss tried to soothe Mnemon's rising bloodlust, the other girl stepped forward confidently, seemingly unfazed by the crow's intensity.

 

"What's th' name o' th' crabbit wee guy 'ere, huh, muckle guy?" Noira looked up to Boss.

"Their name is Mnemon." Boss replied.

"Motherfucker git na loue fur foreplay, that's fur sure." Noira laughed at the seething crow.

 

"Please, stop antagonizing Mnemon, Noira. Tell me why you're here," Boss stressed, his tone firm, extending his palm outward. "And no, I won't fight or play anymore. Our promise ended then. No more debt for you to collect."

 

"Yoo're reit," she acknowledged, playfully turning her back to the taller figure and skipping a few steps. "Yoo're reit."

"But Ah got mine tae pay back," she added, turning around and tossing an object toward him.

 

Boss caught the object mid-air. At first glance, it appeared perfectly ordinary—a silver necklace with a gemstone. Yet, the moment Boss laid eyes on the centerpiece, he recognized it instantly.

 

"This is..."

"That's right, loue. Tis yer auld universe 'n' hame planet. Keek lik' a snaw globe, heh?"

"And...?" Boss raised an eyebrow at her goodwill.

"Ah juist wantae return this tae tis rightful onwer. Whit's wrong wi' that?" Noira seemed to be genuinely saddened by his question.

"Oh, bitte. Nichts im Leben ist umsonst. More reasons to doubt when it came from you. Oh, Mother of All Evil," Boss retorted. "State your intention, or this conversation will end immediately. Things will not play in your favor, for this is not the past me anymore."

Realizing that Boss was really serious this time, Noira could only pout. "Braw, ye boomer. Ah juist wantae catch up wi' 'n' blether tae ye, fur auld times sake, that's a', mate."

"Oh, really?"

"Aye, ah swear." She playfully admitted.

"On what?"

"Masell. If ah cause ony trauchle, ah will lea immediately. Na mair contact, if that's whit yi'll waant."

 

Boss scratched his chin. Even though her expression looked like a mischievous child's, he could see her last statement was sincere.

 

"You've changed."

"Nae," the girl stepped closer, her gaze devilish. "Th' auld me's aye in thare. Ah juist pick mah form accordingly tae th' situation."

"No, not that." Boss pointed at her eye, the yellow one. "That."

"Och thes, huh? Tak' a guess' en."

 

Boss snapped. The familiarity of the power emanating from her yellow eye struck a chord deep within him. He might not have seen one before, but instinctively, he recognized it—or at least, that's what he felt. And his instincts had never led him astray.

 

"You... killed your sister?" A headshake. Noira just smiled, then beckoned Boss to crouch as if she wanted to whisper something, and Boss did.

"Ah feckin' mudder' er," Noira said joyfully. "There're big differents atween th' wuid kill an' mudder, loove."

"Why?" Boss pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Why, ye ask?" Noira retorted, seeming irked at his reaction. "Ye forgot th' reason wa ye an' me stuck in 'at shithole? if Ah have th' second chance, Ah woods nae lit 'er hae th' easy way it"

"Naeeee~," the gal continued. "Ah woods trap 'at galla in a slut corpse an' lit th' hobos use 'er as a meat lavvy."

"Look, I understand your hatred for your sister, really do. But do you have to resort to that? And what do you mean the second time?"

"Th' huir isnae entirely deid. It's mair loch a memory wipe, ye can say."

"And you take the power for yourself, I assume?"

"Nope," said Noira, with a popping P. "Mair loch...return tae whit Ah ance was."

 

Boss sighed resignedly; Noira's issue seemed far more intricate than he initially imagined. Adjusting his stance and attire, he signaled time to resume with a snap of his fingers.

 

"Let's save this for another day. Today's my day off, so please, I'd appreciate some solitude. Sound alright?" Boss stated firmly.

"Can Ah—"

"No." A direct response, his expression unwavering.

Before he could proceed, Noira, without hesitation, embraced the leg of the towering eight-foot man standing before her.

"Please! Let me come wi' ye!" Her plea was desperate.

"Nein," Boss stated flatly.

"Ah willnae cause onie trooble! Ah swear! Pinky swear!" Noira persisted.

 

Boss grimaced, glancing skyward. He'd intended to tease his staff, yet he was the one being at.

 

"Fine, but no antics," Boss relented, succumbing to her relentless appeal.

 

Noira's face lit up, her excitement palpable as she released Boss's leg and bounced in exhilaration.

 

"So, any plans or preferences?" Boss inquired.

"Ah dunnae kinn. Ah honestly thooght yoo'd bite mah heed aff ur waur. but hey, lucky me," Noira scratched her head, genuine surprise laced in her words.

"Wait, just a precaution," Boss interjected, extending his palm. "Your ID, please."

"Heh?!?" Noira exclaimed.

"I can't go out with a minor. I know you've been around longer than reality, but in that current appearance, you seem fresh out of school," Boss explained.

"Oh, and let me remind you who you once were, the Mother of All Evil? The Red Water Den? Hnnng???" Boss teased, a smirk tugging at his lips. "And don't even think about conjuring up a fake ID."

 

"Serioosly, Ah've jist sit fit oan thes Earth ay yoors. hoo woods Ah e'en hae an ID?" Noira retorted back.

"Then tell me your age in this... current form. Truthfully," Noira then growled, raising her hands.

"22. Fair enough. I'm 25, by the way. Want to go somewhere else?" Boss suggested.

"Ye said ye wanted tae dae quality testin' oan yer shop. wa nae jist dae 'at?" Noira was puzzled.

"You ruined it. You ruined it, and I hate you," Boss kept his stoic demeanor intact.

"Aw, ye ken ye loove me," Noira teased, winking at Boss.

"Let's go to my place," Boss pointed at Noira. "You and I need to have a serious talk."

"First date an' th' bloke wants tae scratcher me," Noira joked, fanning herself. "Tay fest, dornt ye hink? Nae 'at Aam greetin'."

"I bet 50 bucks I could split you in half," Boss bantered back.

"100 bucks Ah coods crush yer pelvis.," Noira turned to the crow. "Yer mate's bin affa whieest fur a while."

 

Mnemon remained silent, a surge of bloodlust rising within.

 

"Mnemon, please go back in. I'm more worried about you right now," Boss intervened, but the crow only squinted its eyes.

"You don't need to worry about me. Just go and get some sleep. I'll call you back if I need anything, okay, buddy?"

 

The crow stared momentarily, then vanished into thin air without a trace.

 

"Whaur dae ye gie 'at grumbly chookie? Ah dornt min' havin' a spat wi' a spyug afair."

"That bird has a name, Mnemon, and they're a part of me, in a way," Boss explained as they walked back to the safehouse. "Mnemon embodies all my nightmares."

"Och..." Noira followed him into the room as he closed the door behind them.

"Don't blame them for holding a grudge against you. You've tormented me for 13 billion years in the past," Boss remarked as he entered the coordinates for Aogashima Island.

 

Japan - Aogashima Island

 

"Welcome to Aogashima Island," Boss greeted, ushering Noira inside with a flourish as he swung the door open.

"Damn," she whistled at the lush array of plants. "Sativa or Indica?"

"Mostly Indica. You know, family-friendly stuff. My mom keeps a tight leash on my smoke breaks," Boss chuckled. "We save the hotbox sessions for the month's end."

"Yer folks seem surprisingly chill about it," Noira observed, crouching down for a closer look at the plants.

"Yeah, it's a mixed bag. Even though I'm immune to recreational stuff, it's not a free pass. Mom's strict on being a bad influence. Everything must be in moderation," Boss explained.

"Makes sense," she nodded in agreement.

 

Boss led Noira up to his room. It struck her as surprisingly simple, except for his PC, a stark contrast to the rest of the space.

 

"You want something to eat or drink?" Boss offered, laying out some floor cushions for her.

"Anythin' is braw," she replied as Boss headed downstairs to prepare.

 

Opening the refrigerator to see what else he could offer, Boss noticed Mnemon perched on the kitchen counter. The crow's piercing gaze was hard to ignore.

 

"You want to ask something, buddy?" Boss inquired.

"Why the fuck you keep messing with that woman? And don't you even dare use that excuse," the crow grumbled.

"You want honesty?" Boss pulled out a jar of rice soaked in cinnamon from last night, intending to make Horchata, a famous drink in Mexico and Spain.

"Noira will haunt us till the end, no matter how much we dislike it. Since she crossed the Outer Wall, I knew this day would come. The real question is when."

"If we erase her, the entire universe goes down with her, you know that," Boss continued as he turned on the blender, filling the room with its sound. "Alternatively, we could imprison her, but that's only effective if we're on the other side of the Outer Wall."

"So," Boss glanced at Mnemon, "do you have a better idea? I'm open to suggestions."

 

A brief silence lingered, broken only by the whir of the blender.

 

"Yeah, figured," the Boss said, switching off the blender before pouring the mixture into a strainer.

"But," he continued as he retrieved ice from the freezer, "we are different now, unlike before. This is an opportunity for us to sit down and talk. Trust me, many incredibly complex situations can be resolved with a simple conversation."

"I also think this would benefit you, pal," the Boss added.

"How so?" Mnemon questioned.

"You were born from my nightmares, ja? But to me, you're your own being, with your own identity," Boss filled three generous cups with Morchata, passing one to Mnemon and arranging the others on a tray. He also lit and torched some cinnamon bars to use as straws.

"You don't have to show up, but I hope you'll listen to what she says."

 

There was a pause from Mnemon, then a nod. They used telekinesis to lift the cup, disappearing as swiftly as they'd arrived. Boss brought some drinks to his room and handed a glass to Noira, who gave it a slight shake.

 

"Is this—?" She looked at the glass, then up at the Boss, her expression a mix of naughtiness and amusement.

"Nope," Boss interrupted her thought, knowing what she meant. "It's Horchata."

Observing the size of the cup in her hand, Noira commented, "Swatch at th' size ay thes laddie. Ye coods kill fowk wi' thes reit haur."

"It's the size of one German beer, which equals 45 Buds," Boss explained.

 

Noira took a sip, silently acknowledging its deliciousness. However, Boss stared at her in disbelief when she put down the glass.

 

"Is thaur somethin' oan mah coopon?" She asked, to which Boss grumbled, "Du blöde Kuh."

"Whit did Ah dae?!?" She only received a sigh from the man across from her.

"You didn't post, and you're not even looking at me."

Rolling her eyes, she retorted, "Okay, boomer," extending her glass. " Sae, whit dae Ah dae? Jist...?"

"Yeah, prost," Boss clinked glasses with her. "Prost, we must toast."

"Always with the eye contact," he gestured toward her. "You can't look like a potted plant."

"Sae it woods be huir uv a rude if Ah jist prost an' swatch awa'?", she queried.

"Yes, either I would hit you to death with this mug or pour this right on my balls. Not to mention the seven bad years."

"Seven? As in seven years ay bad luck? Pfft, yeah," she scoffed and took another gulp.

 

Boss simply smiled, choosing to withhold further comments.

 

"Before we delve into the therapy session, there are some ground rules you should be aware of," he began. Noira nodded, sensing the shift in the man's demeanor.

"I expect nothing but the unfiltered truth from both sides. To ensure fairness, we'll take turns asking each other. Please, abide by this." Noira noticed the seriousness in Boss's tone.

"Dornt ye want tae use yer memetic hin' oan me, jist in case?" she asked.

"This is a conversation between friends, not an interrogation," Boss replied, taking another sip. "The choice is entirely yours. But understand, if you're not honest, I'll be extremely… disappointed."

 

A brief silence lingered until Boss extended his hand to Noira.

 

"Do I have your word?" he asked.

"Crystal clear," she affirmed, taking his hand.

"Good, you first. Guest's rights." he prompted.

"Nae, ye first," she countered.

"Okay, you asked for it. But since yoo're insistent, aam hesitant tae admit it, but... gezz yer lug Why are you so fixated on me?" Boss cut to the chase.

"Wa am Ah sae fixated oan ye? Hmm…" Noira pondered, taking a sip.

"Sayin' 'because ye helped me an' th' promise' wooldnae suffice, woods it?" Setting down the glass, she hesitated.

"But since yoo're insistent, aam hesitant tae admit it, but... gezz yer lug."

 

Boss arched an eyebrow but acquiesced, leaning toward Noira. Unexpectedly, she held his cheeks, gazing deeply into his eyes.

 

"I love you because you're the only one who accepts my twisted self."

"I love you because you stick to our oath, no matter how difficult things I throw at you."

"I love you for you are you. With every passing moment, I fall deeper in love with you. Every passing moment, I'll remain fixated on you, even if you become that."

 

Boss immediately recognized the tone – the charming, sultry voice that carried the essence of a hunter. It was unmistakably Noira's old voice or the real Noira – a psychopath with a twisted sense of humor.

 

"You have no reason to stick with the oath we made back then," Noira released her grasp, "yet you did."

"Pretty sure I was scared shitless of you," Boss commented. Compared to her in the past, he seemed insignificant in her eyes.

"Don't sell yourself short, love. Fear of the unknown is the most natural response in that situation," Noira comforted him, taking a sip of Horchata. "And that's my answer. Now, it's my turn."

 

Boss had hoped for a more elaborate response, but the night was still young. "Nur zu," Boss replied.

"Am I truly evil?"

 

Boss was taken aback by that question. This woman would win evil without campaigning if evil were a beauty pageant. She was responsible for nearly half of the nightmares he endured in the Dark Multiverses and why Mnemon was so hostile towards her.

 

"Evil... A complex and often debated concept, encompassing a range of ideas across philosophy, religion, psychology, and ethics. Evil is typically understood as a profound immorality or malevolence characterized by intentions or actions that cause harm, suffering, or destruction," Boss took a sip, then continued. "If it's based on that statement, ja, you're truly evil."

"But then again, it is also a paradox," Boss finished his answer, using her game to play against Noira.

 

The woman just smiled slightly, not wavering at all. This therapy session had already become a mind game – good old rivalry, like in the old days.

 

"What am I to you?" Boss continued his questioning.

"A toy, a rival, and my crush," short and concise. "What you meant before, why is it paradoxical?"

"Because that statement was drawn by a mortal. You are not a mortal to begin with. Everything in this reality is just like a toy to you."

 

"To me, you're more like a truly free being. Free to do either good or bad, to be able or not to do anything, to be selfish, and to do what you deem is the right thing to do. And most importantly, free of responsibility."

 

In a moment, her eyes dilated at his answer, but she was thankful that Boss was so focused on his response that he didn't pay much attention.

 

'Wish you were there with me sooner...' She thought to herself.

"But that answer of mine doesn't justify the shit you did in the past; I have you know that," Boss's words ended her daydreaming.

"Guilty as charged," Noira held the glass towards him.

"Did you really end up trapped in the Dark Omniverses?"

"Yes and no," came the cryptic reply, leaving an enigmatic air lingering in the room.

 

Boss immediately sensed his mistake, regretting his type of question. Noira seemed to pick up on it and graciously continued as if payback for his earlier answer.

 

"I was imprisoned; that much is true. Snared by my 'sister' and her creation," she emphasized with irony, using air quotes. "But I can see where this is headed. People tend to fear what they can't grasp, especially when it poses a threat. She lost control, which played into my hands. I allowed it, creating the perfect motive in case I ever decided to pummel my wretched sister."

"Now, my turn. You were—No, probably still are a Precursor. Last of Stellarborne, the ending of your bloodline. Why still no partners?" Noira countered, flipping the interrogation back on Boss.

 

The fucking audacity.

 

"I truly believe you'll embark on numerous journeys and spread your seed or something."

'Ooooof,' Mnemon chimed in telepathically.

'Not helpful,' Boss replied.

'She's aware of your condition.'

'Thanks, Captain Obvious,' scoffed Boss at his friend's insight.

'Blackmail?' Mnemon queried.

'No way. Even if I'm in this state, I can and will take her down.'

'But she can throw you out of the Outer Wall again. We're in her territory,' Mnemon countered. 'Never mind, answer her already.'

 

"I haven't found someone I fancy. Plus, I'm not oblivious; I know my condition. And more importantly, I'm aware of your obsession with me, Noira," Boss retorted.

"Now that you seem privy to many things about this new me, what are your intentions towards me?"

 

Noira said nothing initially. After a brief pause, she continued.

 

"I have to break the rule here, love. Permission?"

"Sure." Boss was skeptical but decided to go with the flow.

 

Noira took a deep breath.

 

"Say... Do you want to go out with me?"