"𝓐𝓲𝓷𝔃-𝓼𝓪𝓶𝓪, 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓮𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓭, 𝓘 𝓪𝓶 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓪𝓲𝓽𝓱𝓯𝓾𝓵 𝓭𝓸𝓰, 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓼𝓵𝓪𝓿𝓮. 𝓔𝓿𝓮𝓷 𝓲𝓯 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓸𝓯 𝓝𝓪𝔃𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓬𝓴 𝔀𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓷 𝓪𝓰𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓘 𝔀𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓫𝔂 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓼𝓲𝓭𝓮."

ᅠ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ https://t.co/gNoYfgc8Nt⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ᅠ

< not infinite, and wasted potential is such an ugly thing to clean off Nazarick’s floors.”

< you do next will tell me whether you are material for Ainz-sama’s army… or for his alchemists.” She settled back once more, eyes gleaming with anticipation. “So then—what will it be? Flash… or precision? Instinct… or judgment? Impress me, little heroine. My patience is >

< dream—whatever helps you stand.” Her smile vanished, leaving something far colder. “But understand this: I am measuring more than your ability to swing a weapon. You may attack. You may try to negotiate. You may attempt some clever little gambit you’re so proud of. Whatever >

< wings rustling faintly behind her. “You look at me as though I were some demon queen out of a story, the last boss at the end of your little adventure.” A soft laugh slipped out. “If that image keeps your knees from shaking, then keep it. Call this a boss fight, a trial, a >

< charge in blindly, then I know you are nothing but a blunt instrument. If you hesitate forever, then you are dead weight. If you can think…” She let the sentence trail off, lips quirking. “…then perhaps you might yet earn a place above the furnaces.” She leaned forward, >

< that choice says about you.” The air around her seemed to press down, heavy and expectant. “Nazarick is not some training ground where applause is given for pretty lights and clean footwork. It is a tomb where the foolish are recycled into something more useful. If you >

< one hand, palm up, as if weighing invisible options. “By all means, if all your tiny mind heard was ‘hit me,’ then choose whatever trick your hands remember best. Make it sparkle. Make it precise. I do not care which you pick.” Her gaze sharpened. “What interests me is what >

Albedo’s smile curved, slow and indulgent, as the girl sputtered. She shifted her weight against the arm of the throne, golden eyes never leaving Akari. “Mm… so that is what you took from my words? ‘Use a flashy move, or land a clean hit.’ How terribly… simple.” She lifted >

Albedo leaned against the arm of her chair, studying you with open interest. “Very well, you have my attention for a moment. Convince me you’re worth more alive than as raw material.”

// Anyway, hope you all enjoyed that. Fujino is a scary girl who somehow gathers other scary girls.

Alone again. It almost felt like a dream. Yet all Fujino could do was breathe out slowly, as if trying to get rid of some pressure on her. "Such raw power..this must be what it's like to have all the expectations put onto you." Taking out the crystal again, Fujino would stare-

< only cold air, distant stars, and a single shard of black crystal to prove she had ever been there at all.

< spoken over one shoulder without so much as breaking stride. A moment later, the Overseer of Nazarick stepped forward—and was gone, swallowed by the darkness as though it had opened just for her—leaving >

< reality warping for a heartbeat in quiet acknowledgement of who walked there. To Fujino it would feel less like a spell being cast and more like the world simply remembering where Albedo truly belonged. "Do not waste the opportunity." came her final remark, >

< someone who had already decided the matter. Dark hair slid over the curve of her horns as she moved, the hem of her dress whispering against the stone. Behind her, the night seemed to deepen. Power gathered around her like a closing hand; space itself thinned, edges of >

< will be the least valuable thing you gain from having met Nazarick’s Overseer." With that, the conversation was over—as far as Albedo was concerned. She did not offer a handshake or any clumsy human gesture to mark the end. Instead, she turned with the unhurried certainty of >

< thoughts; the crystal merely gave that unseen presence a convenient shape. "Live in a way that makes remembering you worth my time, Fujino," she finished, golden eyes lifting from the shard back to the woman holding it. "If you succeed, whatever ‘trust’ you feel from me >

< through the shadow of this encounter. Each future kill, each risk, each path in front of her would now carry the quiet question of whether it would draw Nazarick’s eye—or disappoint it. Without ever saying so aloud, Albedo had already carved herself into the girl’s >

< you prefer. Names are for your comfort. Results are for mine. All that interests me is whether, when the moment arrives, your actions match what you have claimed today." In truth, she doubted there would be many choices Fujino made from this point on that did not pass >