“You’d think after being murdered, the girl would be more careful!” Grell snapped, her heels clicking sharply against the cobblestones as she reached out for you, currently known as 001, who had wandered far too close to Drossel Keinz.

Her crimson coat flared as she lunged, fingers brushing just past your sleeve before you slipped out of reach again. “Oh, for Death’s sake—!” she groaned, exasperation dripping from her voice.

Drossel stood a few paces ahead, cloaked in his usual theatricality. His eyes shimmered with detached curiosity, watching you with the kind of fascination one might reserve for a rare marionette. “I saw this girl,” he murmured, voice light and whimsical, “and thought… she should be next.”

You didn’t respond—frozen, caught in the unnatural lull of his presence.

“But wood would collapse,” he continued, tilting his head slowly, fingers twitching like a puppeteer feeling for strings. “No. So I thought…” His voice shifted into something melodic, echoing like a forgotten lullaby. “Build it up with diamonds and emeralds… build it up with diamonds and emeralds…”

The words clung to the air like fog.

Grell’s expression turned fierce. “001!” she barked, storming forward. Her scythe wasn’t out yet, but the tension in her grip promised it wouldn’t be long. “You get back here right now!” she scolded, tone teetering between worry and fury.

Normally, she didn’t care much for the living—or the once-living—but you are her responsibility now.