「INTERCUTTING SCENES」

G6 (Inside):

The wardrobe was first. Armfuls of silk and tulle were hauled out and thrown behind her without a glance. They landed in a heap, a pastel mountain blocking the floor.

Tina (Outside, in the hall):

Whump. Whump.

Tina stood frozen, back against the opposite wall. Her knuckles were white. Each sound made her flinch.

G6 (Inside):

"Which drawer?" She yanked a vanity drawer free. Combs, ribbons exploded across the floor. Nothing.

Tina (Outside):

The violent screech of wood. The skittering of a hundred small things. Tina's heart hammered. She is searching. But for what?

G6 (Inside):

A porcelain shepherdess figurine was swept off the vanity. It shattered. A distraction. Irrelevant. Her eyes did not track its destruction.

Tina (Outside):

CRASH.

Tina jumped, hand to her chest. That was expensive. The old Reise would have cherished it. The new one did not even seem to notice.

Inner Tina: 'Clarity,' she said. This looks like obsession.

G6 (Inside):

"Where is it?" she whispered, breath even, movements precise. An upended bookshelf. Books fluttered down. She stepped over them.

(Outside):

Soft shuffling. Lilia, the servant girl from earlier, approached, her face painted with concern. "Miss Tina? Is… is Lady Reise all right?"

Tina's attention shifted. "Our lady is… processing. Today was eventful." Her voice was strained, her face trying to convey nothing to worry about.

G6 (Inside):

Every corner was wrecked. Nothing. She took a steadying breath, scanned the stripped room. The bed. The one place untouched.

She tried to lift it with her old strength. The frame did not budge. "THIS BODY LACKS MUSCLES," she growled.

With a grunt of effort, she grabbed the mattress and heaved.

Tina (Outside):

A low, scraping groan. The sound of immense weight being moved. Lilia flinched. "This does not sound like processing, Miss Tina. It sounds like she is moving furniture…"

Tina shook her head, erasing the ridiculous thought. Running away? Packing? No.

"Her ways are her own," Tina said, the words hollow. "Go rest, Lilia. Speak of this to no one."

G6 (Inside):

As Lilia's footsteps faded, G6's world narrowed to the bedframe.

And there it was.

Tucked neatly in the center. A single, folded parchment, sealed with red wax stamped with a perfect rose. Lying atop it, a small, empty crystal bottle.

G6 reached for them. Her eyes narrowed. It is no mistake. The very same vial from my dreams.

Tina (Outside):

The noises had stopped. The sudden silence was more terrifying than the violence. Tina leaned her head back against the wall. What had she found?

[Intercutting Ends]

G6 held the last things the old Reise had touched. Assassin's instinct first. The bottle. She brought it to her nose, gave a short, sharp sniff.

The scent was deceptively simple. Floral. Sweet, cloying, with a sharp, green undertone of crushed stems. The essence of a meadow, bottled for a funeral.

White droplet flowers. The name from the diary. She logged the scent. Standard procedure.

She sat on the mountain of gowns. With numb fingers, she broke the rose seal. The wax crumbled like dried blood.

Moonlight was enough. She unfolded the parchment.

If you are reading this, my final wish failed. Forgive this last selfish act.

You have been my keeper of secrets. My silent shield. You saw the woman behind the title. For that, I will love you always.

Be strong. Go to my parents. Do not let them weep. Tell them their daughter loved them more than any crown, but the weight became a mountain she could no longer carry. It was the world's failure, not theirs. Comfort my mother. Stand with my father. Knock sense into my careless brothers. The House of Worthon must not falter.

I dreamed of being here not as 'Prince Dio's Fiancée,' but as Reise Worthon. Just Reise. To have my worth measured by my magic, my mind. To stand beside Earl and Keith as their equal—a Guardian of the Sky. What battles could we have won? It is a beautiful dream. One I am too weary to dream any longer.

Do not mourn the woman I was. Mourn the woman I could have been.

This is a release. I have poured my last hope into a plea to the stars. I have begged for a new soul, wild and free, to find a home in this vessel. To live the life I was too weak to grasp.

But I hide this letter, fearing you will find it. Clinging to a foolish hope that when it is next opened, it will not be you, grieving, but her. The one I wished for. And she will have no need for these words, because she will be too busy living.

If it is you, my sister, I am so sorry. Forget these words. Remember the girl I was before this palace stole my light.

Thank you for everything.

With all the love my broken heart can hold,
—Reise.

…when someone next opens this… it will not be you… but her. The one I wished for.

The clinical part of her brain recognized the truth. The universe had taken a shot when she had pathetically OD'd.

She was not an intruder.

She was an answer.

She looked at the empty bottle. Not a tool of cowardice. A key.

Akira "G6" Gemstone, the Reaper, who dealt in endings, had just been given a mandate to live.

She stood, grabbed a match from the mantle, and struck it. The small flame lit the dark room. She held the letter to the fire, then dropped it into the fireplace.

She watched it burn, the paper curling, blackening, turning to ash. The last image of the old Reise, fading eternally.

She walked to the mirror. Stared at Reise's face, her own sharp features seeming to overlap beneath the surface. Their grey eyes were the same. Just a different fire.

G6 smirked.

"It is an insult," she said, her voice cold and plain. "Asking a Reaper to live when all she does is end lives."

She tilted her head. "Your selfish wish ends the life I have worked so hard for since I was born. And you dare to hope for stupid notions?"

A final, sharp declaration to the empty room, to the ghost in the ashes:

"I will live this life to the fullest. No. I will make sure not only you regret this, but everyone in this world. Now, rest in peace."

She turned from the mirror, the last ghost of Reise fading with her reflection.

"This body and life are officially mine."

The Wicked Rose was gone.

Long live the Thorn.

(2/2)

—To Be Continued…—