Fate/Eva Frankenstein

"The girl disappeared without a scream. But I...I will make the world hear mine."

--Anonymous statement. Origin: Chamorix, Switzerland.

__________________________________________

Chapter 2: Resonances.

Year ??? - Place ???

Pov. Third person.

"This is strange..."

Darkness.

Only the sound of her footsteps echoing on damp earth.

Cold. Unreal.

Eva moved forward, enveloped in a thick fog that coiled around her body like steam snakes.

Ahead, the cabin.

The one where the final encounter took place.

Old. Silent. Waiting for her.

She quickened her pace. She knew she had to go in. That she had to find him. She had to finish him off.

But just as she reached out to touch the doorknob...

...the cabin vanished.

It didn't explode. That didn't run away.

She simply slid backward, as if pushed by an invisible wind, away.

She raised an eyebrow and looked at the surreal scene in front of her.

What...?

Eva ran after her.

Every time she thought she'd reached it, the world changed. The cabin grew farther away, zigzagging between nonexistent trees, misshapen hills, starless skies.

"The situation was starting to tire her. To frustrate her. To enrage her."

"Why can't I catch her?!" she screamed.

And just then, something invisible hit her in the face.

Her words were cut short when she felt a dull blow to her face.

She fell backward, her face aching.

She looked up and saw.

The cabin...stubbornness...

...She stopped.

The door was in front of her. Almost as if tempting her.

One step away.

That was all that was missing.

The silence was absolute. As if the world was holding its breath.

Eva took a deep breath.

She took it, turned the handle, and entered.

Inside... there was no blood. No hatred.

No screams.

Just a bed.

And in it, Victor.

Lying down. Still. Perfect.

She felt a smile form on her lips.

She drew her mace from behind her back. She readied herself.

Victor...

Victor!

VICTOR!!

Finally!

You're within my reach!

Right where...

...I wanted you?

For an instant, the bubbling emotion in her chest—the fury, the adrenaline, the anticipation—froze.

Something wasn't right.

Too perfect.

Too...clean.

The cabin was empty. The walls had no texture. There were no windows—though she clearly remembered seeing them from outside. There was no furniture, no shelves, no trace of the fire or the cold.

Just her.

And him.

And a silence that didn't seem natural, but imposed.

Eva frowned. She tightened her grip on the mace. A cold sweat trickled down her back.

"Victor..." she whispered uncertainly, taking a step. "Victor?"

He didn't move.

He didn't blink.

He didn't breathe.

He was asleep.

Peaceful. Calm. Vulnerable.

Eva reached out. She hesitated.

"Are you…?"

But she couldn't finish the sentence.

Because just then, she saw her own hand.

And it was covered in blood.

Fresh blood. Dark. Dripping.

Her heart raced, her chest tightened.

"What…?"

She looked back at Victor.

His body had changed too.

He was now open across the chest, with an exposed cavity, red and wet, where his heart should have been.

And it was still beating.

Bare. Vulnerable. Throbbing.

"NO!" she screamed, backing away, her eyes wide.

Then it happened.

Victor's body began to disintegrate.

But not like a corpse.

Like mud.

Black, glistening mud. His face melted into abstract lines. His arms, his ribs, everything dissolved like clay submerged in hot water.

Eva took another step back.

She tried to run.

But it was too late.

Everything was disintegrating.

The floor, the walls, the ceiling, the air itself. They liquefied in darkness, turning into a dense, viscous substance.

And when Eva realized it, she was alone.

Standing in the middle of an ocean of black mud.

She wasn't sinking.

But she couldn't move either.

"W-what is this...?" she gasped, her voice trembling.

Then, something appeared in her hands.

Heavy. Cold. Familiar.

Bridal Chest.

The mace.

And when she raised her head… she was no longer in the cabin.

The change was immediate.

The floor was stone. There were walls.

Lanterns. An alley.

Geneva.

Geneva… again.

Stiff, like a statue, she turned her head.

And she saw him.

The body.

The innocent man.

The one she had killed.

Leaning against the wall, his eyes still half-open, as if he didn't understand why.

His blood still fresh on the floor.

The weapon fell from her hands. Bridal Chest struck the stone hard and rolled a few inches.

"No..." she whispered. "This..."

I...

HONEY!

The scream sounded like thunder.

It rumbled inside her skull. Inside her soul.

And everything went dark again.

__________________________________________

She woke up gasping, her eyes wide open, as if she'd just escaped a fire that didn't exist.

The ceiling above her was high.

And familiar. So familiar.

The smell of the place... damp wood, controlled decay, old books.

Her heartbeat was slow to slow down.

Her hands were trembling.

She brought one to her face, awkwardly touching her cheek, as if to check that she was still there.

She was.

But everything was... strange.

She was covered by a thick blanket. Lying on a soft mattress.

Had she... stopped walking?

When?

Where...?

She slowly turned her head.

She recognized the high window, the shelf with empty bottles, the oil lamp, the marks on the walls.

She blinked as she realized the impossible.

It was her room.

The room that had once been hers.

But did that mean... she was...?

"...

... Or was it a dream? Had she collapsed on the way there and now... she was still dreaming?"

Her body felt heavy, as if gravity had doubled. She tried to sit up, but it hurt to breathe.

Soft footsteps sounded from the hallway. The door opened quietly.

"Ah..."

It was Emma. Really her.

The cook was carrying a damp cloth in a basin. She entered carefully, her expression tense, but when she saw her awake, she stopped dead in her tracks.

"You're awake..." she murmured. Her eyes widened. "You're awake! What a relief!"

Eva just stared at her, blinking. She couldn't speak yet.

Emma placed the basin on the table and, without hesitation, sat down carefully on the edge of the bed.

"I was so scared when Lea found you in front of the entrance..." she began, her voice low. "You weren't responding, your feet were bleeding, and your..."

She paused. Her lips trembled slightly, as if she was still struggling to process it.

The smell of earth, dry wounds, bruises on multiple parts of her body, extreme exhaustion.

What happened to you when you left the mansion? she wondered in her worried mind, as she quickly—unspoken—recounted the condition of the little girl in front of her.

"...you were unconscious for a week."

Eva looked down. She didn't know what to say.

Her brain was slow to process the situation.

A week? So long...

But then...

Her eyes narrowed, confused.

"In front of the entrance..."

"Lea found me..."

"I'm in my room..."

Her fingers, still somewhat numb, tightly gripped a section of her arm. The result was a small surge of pain that surged from there.

In dreams, there was no pain. At least not real pain.

Ah.

So... this isn't a dream.

I really did return to the mansion.

Certainty fell upon her like a stone into a still lake, breaking the surface of her thoughts.

At that moment, Eva noticed something.

Or rather... the absence of someone.

"Lea...?"

Emma looked at her with slight confusion, but quickly understood.

"Oh, she's still finishing her cleaning duties. Although she'll probably be back in a few minutes. Don't worry."

She was silent for a moment, as if hesitant to continue.

"She was the most worried of the two of us, you know."

Emma was still surprised to remember Lea's excited expression that day, running in with Eva in her arms.

She had never seen her like that before.

"...I see."

That was her only response.

An awkward silence fell between them.

Emma looked at her with some hesitation, as if waiting for an answer that never came.

However, Eva showed no signs of saying anything else. She simply stood there, staring into space.

Lost in thought.

In the silence that followed, the homunculus broke the stillness.

"So... you did it?" she asked in a low, almost fearful voice. "Did you murder... Master Victor? Is that why you came back?"

That caused a reaction.

Eva looked at her, her eyes filled with a mixture of anger, sadness, and helplessness.

"No," she replied sharply. "I couldn't."

She clenched her fists to the point of making them bleed.

"That bastard... cheated."

Emma shuddered, surprised by the bluntness of the answer.

"Cheating...?" That word caused confusion in the servant's mind. She didn't quite understand why the word was used in this context.

"What do you mean?"

Eva fell silent again, gathering her thoughts. Preparing a good response.

It would serve as a way to vent. Truly, now that she stopped pacing... she realized how much she wanted someone to listen to her.

"I... I was supposed to do it," Eva whispered, clenching a handful of the quilt so tightly her knuckles turned white. "Kill him. Make him suffer. Make him pay for what he did to me."

Her lips trembled. She lowered her head.

"...but he didn't scream. He didn't run away. He didn't curse me. He just... closed his eyes and said what I hated to hear the most."

She gritted her teeth until they ground together.

"The bastard... he dared to apologize."

A heavy silence.

And then, it erupted.

"He was supposed to beg! Beg! Cry! Look at me with the same expression I had the day he left me!"

Her voice broke with every word. Every scream felt like an open wound.

"He would feel the pain I feel! But... But...!" She swallowed with suppressed rage. "He dared to die before I could kill him."

Eva's face twisted in fury and frustration.

"I had him there," she growled, her voice low and shaky. "Right in front of me. Just a few feet away. I just had to get close... swing my mace..."

She raised a trembling hand, as if she were still holding it.

"And that was it. I would have achieved the satisfaction I so desired. Finally..."

Silence.

"But..." her voice broke, "with those words... that look... that face... that apology..."

With a bang, she slammed her arm against the wall beside the bed with a sharp, harsh thud. Emma shuddered, frightened.

"How can I kill you when you do that, you cheater...?" she murmured, no longer screaming.

Her fury faded as quickly as it had come. It dissipated like fog.

Her arm fell, heavy and limp, back onto the bed.

"...and then he did it. He closed his eyes. And he died. Before I could..."

Emma said nothing. She just reached over and, with trembling but steady hands, gently took one of his.

Eva looked at her.

And then she sighed, deeply.

"...I'm tired," she whispered, her voice raspy, cracking. Her face looked exhausted, aged inside, as if she'd carried decades in the last few days. "And disappointed... nothing went the way I wanted..."

"HONEY!"

The word echoed in her mind, a cursed echo that broke her soul.

"II..." she stammered. "I was wrong... I-I did something unforgivable..."

Her tears began to fall, one after another, silent, burning.

She covered her face with her free hand, as if she wanted to break her thoughts.

"...and now... sniff... I don't know what to do..."

Emma didn't let go of her hand.

She said nothing.

She just held it until Eva's trembling calmed.

"Could you stay here?"

A soft voice rose from the doorway, breaking the silence. Eva and Emma looked up.

It was Lea.

She had finished her chores and was now approaching with calm but firm steps.

"I'm glad to see you awake." Her face abandoned its typical inexpressiveness and she allowed herself a look of clear relief. A moment later, it returned to normal. "Back to my question... do you want to...?"

"Stay...?" Eva repeated weakly, as if the very idea were foreign to her. The tears were no longer falling, but her eyes were still moist.

Lea nodded and stopped in front of her.

"Since you and Master Victor left... this mansion has felt quite empty," she said softly, lowering her gaze for a moment. "And we both," she added, glancing briefly at Emma before returning to Eva, "would like you to be with us again."

Eva lowered her gaze. Her fingers tightened on the bedspread.

"But... Victor is gone. His orders... no longer have to..."

"Little one."

Emma interrupted her gently and leaned closer, wrapping her in a warm hug, soft as an old blanket that still retained the scent of home.

"We don't want to be with you because of orders," she said firmly. "We want to be with you... because we love you."

"Nothing more. No secret orders. No surveillance. No ulterior motives. Simply..."

She tightened her grip on her embrace, pulling her closer to her chest.

"...we'd like to spend the rest of our days with you."

Eva didn't know how to respond.

She just stood still, saying nothing, as Emma held her gently.

And little by little... she let herself go.

How warm, she thought, slowly closing her eyes. A faint, shaky exhalation escaped her lips. Her shoulders eased their tension, her body lost its rigidity.

For the first time in days, months... maybe years, she wished this feeling would last.

Seriously... can I have this?

After everything she'd done...

After what had happened...

Was she really allowed to receive something like this?

She didn't know.

Probably no one could give her that answer.

But for a while...

Staying here... I guess it wouldn't be so bad after all.

Lea, who had watched silently from the doorway, allowed herself a tiny smile.

She moved forward slowly, noiselessly, and when she reached them... she opened her arms.

And joined the hug.

Eva felt it immediately. The warmth grew deeper. More real.

A dull sun rekindled inside her chest.

Without realizing it, tears ran down her cheeks again.

But this time... they weren't from pain.

Not from frustration.

Not from anger.

It was something more.

Something much more... precious.

The emptiness in her chest... was suddenly gone.

__________________________________________

Five years later.

Chamorix, Switzerland - Winter 1836.

Pov. Eva.

"...I don't know how it happened, I only took my eyes off her for a little over a minute." Mrs. Meyer's voice trembled slightly, as if she couldn't accept what she was telling her.

Eva didn't answer. She remained standing in front of her, motionless as a statue, the news reaching her like a knife between her ribs. Cold. Silent. Precise.

"And the neighbors... didn't they see anything?"

The lady shook her head.

"I had asked my neighbor Amelie to look at her for a second... but she said my daughter vanished. One moment she was there, the next she wasn't." Celina Meyer was already on the verge of becoming a tearful mess.

Eva was on the verge of causing a premeditated purge.

"I don't understand," one of the customers, Mr. Leclere, who was present, expressed confusion. "I don't want to doubt Madame Amelie's judgment, but really..."

"Yes, she said my little girl disappeared in an instant." The lady frowned, trying to remember. "No one really came near, and the street was empty. Only Anna was there. She said it was as if..."

"As if someone had quietly and completely taken her away," Eva interrupted, emotionless, expressionless.

Mrs. Meyer opened her eyes, surprised by the statement. She nodded slowly.

All the other customers were also surprised. It was the first time they'd seen Blanche use that tone of voice and that expression... so empty, so hollow.

Was this really the same person who had served them a few moments ago?

Eva took off her apron. Folded it carefully. Left it on the counter.

"I'm going out for a while," she said. Her tone brooked no questions. "The store is closed for the day. If you've already paid, go away. If not... too. It's on the house."

"Blanche...? Are you okay?"

"No."

And without another word, she turned and headed upstairs.

__________________________________________

Wasting no time, he approached her bed and pushed her over and out of the way.

Under her bed was a small wooden case.

Eva looked at it for a moment without moving a muscle. Before finally exhaling and making a decision.

Without hesitation, she opened it and with one hand pulled out its contents.

She felt it instantly.

The cold touch of the Bridal Chest.

Her weapon.

Her inheritance.

Her true self.

She felt it too, sparking as if welcoming it.

"I'm not Blanche anymore."

Her eyes opened, with a different gleam. With steely resolve.

"I'm Eva."

She had already lost so much in this life. She wasn't willing to lose more.

Nor allow that little girl to suffer any dire fate. This time... the monster would hunt... and save.

And this time... someone will pay.

Someone...was going to suffer.

With her gun in hand, she went back down the stairs.

The customers had heeded her words and left.

Including Mrs. Meyer.

Eva tightened her grip. She would find her—she thought—that was a promise.

The front doorbell rang, metallic and alone, behind her.

The snow continued to fall outside, but Eva didn't feel it. Not the cold. Not the wind. Not the stares.

Only one word hammered in her mind, over and over again.

"Anna."

She walked quickly.

Then faster.

Until she started to run.

__________________________________________

The walk to the house was quick. Eva didn't look at anyone, didn't respond to greetings. Her steps were short and quick, like hammer blows on freshly fallen snow.

When she arrived, she knocked on the door without hesitation.

A few seconds later, the latch turned.

"Yes...?" The door opened slowly, revealing an elderly woman wrapped in a gray woolen dressing gown. Her eyes widened in recognition. "Oh... Blanche? What a surprise, dear."

Eva forced a small smile.

"Hello, Madame Amelie. Excuse me for stopping by unannounced... would you have a moment? I'd like to ask you a few questions."

"Oh? Sure, sure. Come in, dear... I was just going to make some tea."

She stepped aside to let her in, but then stopped dead in her tracks, frowning slightly.

"...uh. What's that?"

Eva blinked. Confused, she lowered her gaze.

And then she noticed it.

She was still holding Bridal Chest in her hand.

Her expression didn't change. But inside, she cursed himself.

Really? You couldn't even hide it?

"Um..." she coughed softly, feigning casualness. "Nothing important. Just an... accessory?"

Madame Amelie looked at her with some hesitation. Her eyes traveled from Eva's face to the imposing weapon... and then back again.

For a second, she seemed about to say something else.

But finally, she smiled, a little nervously.

"Ah, classic of you, Blanche. Always with such... extravagant tastes."

"Heh... I suppose so," Eva murmured, crossing the threshold without looking back.

The air in the house was warm, thick with herbal tea and old wood. But inside, Eva felt only a cold focus.

Anna was out there.

And she wasn't leaving without at least a clue.

Or at least... confirmation.

The door closed behind her.

Eva entered unhurriedly, her steps soft but firm on the wooden floor.

The interior was modest, as she remembered: antique furniture, a woven rug, a couple of family portraits on the walls.

Madame Amelie walked ahead, heading for the open kitchen where she was boiling water in a kettle.

Eva, on the other hand, stopped.

She turned slowly around. Her eyes scanned every corner, every shadow. The air was warm, but something pressed against the back of her neck.

Without taking her eyes off her, she casually slipped Bridal Chest through her fingers. Just a slight sway, as if its weight could tell her something.

But nothing.

No reaction.

The mace didn't tremble, didn't flash. Not a spark. Just cold metal.

Eva narrowed her eyes slightly.

Not here.

"Oh, tea's almost ready..." Madame Amelie said from the kitchen, not noticing anything amiss.

Eva refocused her attention.

"I heard what happened with Anna," she said gently. She wasn't acting. She couldn't. Her voice wasn't Blanche's anymore. It was... her own. "I wanted to know if you could tell me what happened. Any detail. No matter how small."

The woman seemed to freeze for a second. Then her expression faded.

The woman seemed to freeze for a second. Then her expression softened.

"Yes... yes, of course. It was a tragedy. I still don't understand. I feel..." she lowered her tone as she poured the tea, "I feel a little responsible, to be honest."

Eva sat down without inviting herself.

Her expression was calm.

Too calm.

"I'm looking for clues."

"Clues? For the guards?" the woman asked as she placed a cup in front of her.

Eva nodded with a perfunctory smile.

"Yes. For the guards."

The woman sighed and sat down opposite.

"It was all very quick. Her mother asked me to watch her for a minute while she spoke to the butcher. I was sitting right there, by the window." She nodded at a chair near the window. "Anna was on the sidewalk, playing with a rag doll."

Eva didn't respond. I just watched her, attentive.

"I didn't see anyone approaching. No one called her. No one ran." Amelie closed her eyes for a moment, as if reviewing. "One second she was there… and the next she was gone."

Eva nodded slowly, still looking at her. Her expression was serene, but inside, her mind was working like clockwork.

She studied her gestures.

Her pauses.

Her tics.

She had seen her many times before. At the bakery. In the square. At the markets.

Always kind, always attentive.

And now?

The same.

Too much the same.

There were no false nerves. No forced tension. No evasions. No contradictions.

Nothing.

Eva took the cup with one hand. She didn't drink. Her fingers closed on the hot ceramic.

It's not her either.

"…Blanche?" the lady's voice broke her concentration. "Are you all right?"

Eva looked up. She smiled faintly.

"Yes. Thank you for the tea. May I see the exact spot where you last saw her?"

The woman nodded immediately.

"Of course. Right in front of the window."

They both stood up.

Eva didn't show it, but inside something was twitching.

Everything was too clean.

And that only meant it was about to get really dirty.

Eva walked out of the house with a firm step. The cold air hit her face, but she didn't feel it.

She stopped on the sidewalk and looked around.

Everything seemed... ordinary.

Too ordinary.

"Was there really no one else on the street at that moment?" she asked aloud, without turning around.

It took Mrs. Amelie a second to answer.

"No... the street was completely empty..." There was a pause, almost imperceptible. "Now that I think about it... that was weird. Really weird. Normally there's always someone crossing, a vendor, a child, a dog... but at that moment... nothing."

Eva listened and put it away.

She took a few steps until she stood right in the middle of the street.

She looked one way. Then the other.

People passed in the distance. Some recognized her and waved.

She waved back.

Out of politeness.

Zzzzt.

Her expression hardened. She lowered her gaze.

Bridal Chest sparked.

Just a little, as if she were licking something in the air.

"Bingo..." she murmured.

Then, to be sure, she closed her eyes.

With both hands, she raised the mace above her head.

"Bridal Chest. Pick up."

The weapon opened with a soft click, splitting into segments that rotated in sync. Like a mechanical heart beating.

Then it happened.

Dozens of tiny blue points of light began to glow in the air, barely perceptible, floating like dust caught in a ray of sunlight.

And all of them were absorbed by the mace, which consumed them with a faint electric hum.

Residue.

Magical energy.

Eva's expression became tense.

"It really is what I feared..." she whispered.

Chock.

The mace closed with a final, dry sound.

The show was over.

Everyone on the street, including those who had stopped to watch, fell silent.

Including Madame Amelie, who had stepped out onto her doorstep.

Eva looked at them.

And, as if she were a performer who had just concluded her act, she bowed elegantly.

"I hope you enjoyed the show."

An awkward silence followed her joke.

A man dared to clap, once, nervously.

Everyone looked at him strangely.

He stopped.

"Blanche! That was..." Amelie tried to say, still holding the cup of tea.

"Thank you for your time. See you later!" Eva exclaimed, turning on her heel.

And she started running, without looking back.

Reckless, she thought. I'd attracted too much attention!

"But the tea...!"

"Later!" she shouted from a distance, as her silhouette disappeared into the snowy streets.

__________________________________________

Eva ran.

She ran until the streets no longer seemed familiar, until the noise of the town was left behind, replaced by the wind and the snow crunching beneath her feet.

Finally, she stopped.

Alone, in a forgotten corner between trees and fences, panting.

Her chest rose and fell, not from exhaustion… but from suppressed tension.

From rage, fear, and understanding mingled like poison in her blood.

"This… this is complicated…" she murmured.

She lowered her gaze.

The wind stirred her cloak as her hand gripped the handle of the Bridal Chest tightly.

The truth was clear.

The signs, clear.

There were traces of magical energy.

Subtle. Ancient.

Carefully concealed.

But they were there.

Someone with knowledge had been present. Not only that.

Had acted.

Eva swallowed.

"One of them..."

The word formed in her mind like a condemnation.

"Magus..."

She spat it out like poison. As if the mere mention of him would foul her tongue.

Just like Victor.

Just like those Lea and Emma had once described to her. Proud. Cold. Wickedly brilliant.

This changed everything.

It wasn't just a disappearance anymore.

It was a hunt.

And Anna... was the prey.

A shiver ran down her spine.

"This has become a race against time..." she whispered. Her voice sounded bitter, grave. "The longer it takes..."

She gritted her teeth.

"The more uncertain their fate will be."

But still…

"I won't stop…"

Zzzzzt.

A spark escaped from her weapon.

The mace segments split slightly, and small blue particles began to float again. Fewer than before… but enough to mark something.

A course.

Eva took a deep breath. Her legs tensed. Electricity coursed through her body like a silent lightning bolt.

"...until she found it."

BOOM.

With a dull burst of magical energy, her body shot forward, following the trail. The snow rose behind her like a frozen wave.

But she wasn't alone.

On a high branch, an owl was watching her.

Its eyes were an unnatural blue. Bright. Steady.

And it didn't lose sight of her for a second.

Eva never noticed.

But she...

Was being watched.

__________________________________________

Elsewhere.

"Troublesome..."

The voice floated through the darkness, calm as a poisonous breeze.

A figure sat in a velvet armchair, a glass of red wine in its hand. The light filtering through the curtains barely outlined its silhouette.

Its eyes followed Eva's movements.

Through the owl. Its familiar.

"Very troublesome..." it repeated, with a raised eyebrow.

It stood gracefully, brushing the invisible dust off its suit.

The sound of chains echoed in the background.

Grunts. Deformed laughter. Twisted silhouettes trapped behind bars, with eyes that glowed like coals.

And the figure advanced toward them with a slow but steady gait.

"But..."

A smile spread across its face.

A twisted smile.

Cruel.

"Very easy to solve."

End of Chapter 2

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Hello. I hope you enjoyed the episode. Reviews and comments are always welcome. See you next time.