Fate/Eva Frankenstein

"The most desperate decisions are made in silence, far from the eyes of those we try most to protect."

— Author Unknown

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Chapter 14: What She Saw

"Another Perspective on the Past"

Frankenstein Manor, Switzerland - 1831

Pov. Emma.

The mansion door closed behind us with a soft creak, dragging the cool village air with it.

Night had fallen completely, and only the faint moonlight filtering through the large windows illuminated the empty hallways.

We walked in silence down the main corridor, Eva's footsteps barely audible on the marble.

Her eyes were still slightly bright, and it took a glance to tell she was still thinking about the small locket she'd chosen.

She held it firmly between her fingers, as if it were a treasure.

I couldn't help but smile, a tenderness that flowed effortlessly.

"Did you like it that much?" I asked gently.

Eva turned her head slightly toward me, still staring at the locket.

"It's... pretty," she murmured, then gave me a quick glance, barely a flicker. Her cheeks were flushed.

I let out a small laugh at her shyness.

"You don't need to hide it, you know," I said in a more playful tone. "It was a good choice. It suits you."

She looked down, embarrassed. But she didn't let go of the locket.

When we reached her room, she stopped.

I turned to say goodnight, but I saw that she stood still, uncertain.

She took a step toward me... and then stopped, her lips parted.

Her arms rose slightly, as if she were thinking of embracing me.

But something stopped her.

She lowered her hands slowly, and instead murmured,

"Rest easy... Emma."

"You too, Eva," I replied gently, not showing the pang of sadness that came with seeing her hold back.

I watched her enter her room and close the door.

I stood there for a few seconds, alone, listening to the silence of the house.

Then I thought of Lea.

I felt a strange discomfort in my chest.

We'd left early, and she'd been doing research in the workshop all day.

Maybe... too much time alone.

So I walked toward the basement.

The night sky filtered through the high windows, casting long shadows across the stone walls. The mansion was silent, as the grave.

But as I approached the workshop, I heard it.

Crash!

Something like glass.

Thud!

A loud crash against the floor.

Splash!

The unmistakable sound of something splitting, splintering, breaking.

My heart raced.

"Lea...?" I whispered, but didn't wait for a reply.

I quickened my pace, carelessly went down the stairs, and swung open the workshop door.

The words caught in my throat.

The place... was in ruins.

Jars and broken books littered the floor.

Toppled shelves. Cracks in the walls. A shattered lamp in a corner.

And at the center of all that chaos... Lea.

She was panting heavily, her hair disheveled, her eyes blazing with rage or tears.

I hesitated.

I didn't know if I should speak. If I should approach her. If it was better to give her space or hug her right then and there.

But I knew one thing for sure: this wasn't the Lea who always kept her cool.

And that... scared me.

Lea was cursing softly, but with a rage that made every word tremble.

"Damn the Frankensteins," she snarled. "Damn this workshop, this empty, cold prison... damn Victor Frankenstein!!! DAMN THE TIME WE HAVE LEFT!!!"

I felt the air thicken, as if each word uttered in fury filled the space and weighed more than before.

I couldn't let that rage consume my sister.

With all my might, I shouted:

"Lea!"

My voice echoed in the workshop, breaking the silence and seeming to envelop us both.

I saw her stop dead in her tracks, slowly, as if the world had frozen for a moment.

When she turned her head to look at me, her red, swollen, and tired eyes met mine.

A thick silence fell between us, heavy, uncomfortable.

I wanted to get closer, to show her I was there, that she wasn't alone.

I placed my hands gently on her shoulders, delicately, as if I could hold her without breaking her.

I wanted to give her some calm in the midst of such a storm.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I shouldn't have let you see me like that... that reaction was inappropriate."

I shook my head, trying to let her know that it didn't matter, that she could show herself as she was.

"It's okay," I assured him, "but... I imagine..."

"I found nothing new," she cut me off, and I felt as if the air had grown colder. "Just more of the same: our time is running out."

I watched her walk over to an overturned table and roughly upright it.

She picked up the scattered papers on the floor, her hands shaking, and she gritted her teeth.

"From the beginning, our limit was nine years," she murmured. "From day one, Master Victor already knew it, expected it."

I couldn't help but frown, frustration and resentment boiling inside me.

It was just the kind of calculated cruelty I expected from Victor Frankenstein.

"Yes," I said coldly, "sounds exactly like something he would do."

I felt a lump in my throat, helplessness burning in my chest.

For those unfamiliar with a homunculus, suffice it to say that it's an existence created through alchemy, a method that seeks to produce functional life from sperm and other elements, without the need for a womb.

A perfect homunculus would be an artificial extension of nature itself, capable of living indefinitely as long as the planet retains its vitality and mana.

But neither I nor Lea fell into that category.

We were two survivors of an experiment that produced a batch of ten homunculi; the others, worthless, were sacrificed as soon as their uselessness was confirmed.

They, however, displayed unusual traits that increased their value:

Emma, a high-quality magic circuit, even for a homunculus.

Lea, a body suitable for first-class combat. Circuits? Normal.

So, they were relegated to a humble fate, servants in the Frankenstein mansion, aware that the life they had artificially received came at a cruel price: an inherent defect and a sentence to a limited nine-year existence.

Although at first it didn't matter.

They were content with their role, with no mixed feelings about the inevitable fate that awaited them.

They followed orders and had no desire to regret their eventual fate.

In a way, they didn't need to think; simply acting as they were supposed to was enough.

Just obey; that way, life was easier.

Yes, that's how it used to be...

But now, little Eva was here.

She had already suffered too much at the hands of Master Victor, and both Lea and she had pledged to care for her with all their hearts, to help her heal.

And it was working, she was getting better, but...

The end is approaching. For both of them.

At this rate, if they did nothing, they would end up with a worse wound than the last.

A heavy silence fell between them.

Neither spoke.

"...Did you really not find anything?" Emma asked, breaking the stillness, her tone mingling hope and frustration.

Lea looked at her, not reproaching the question, but with an annoyed and listless expression, as if complaining about having to answer something so obvious.

"The workshop is empty," she said, her voice raspy, "with no resources or anything.

The mystical codes... none of them will fix our situation."

No, actually, there's no solution to this problem.

Her eyes were fixed on the ground, and the suppressed rage shone just beneath the surface.

"We're defective products," she continued. "Like Eva and I, doomed to die when our time runs out."

Lea looked up, and for a moment the hardness broke in a heavy sigh.

"Master Victor always knew our limit... from the beginning."

Emma remained silent for a few seconds, letting Lea's words hit the air between them.

Finally, a subtle change appeared in her expression.

"Did Eva have fun?" she asked, searching for a light among so much shadow.

Lea looked at her, and surprise flashed across her face.

"Yes, she enjoyed the outing... although there were some problems," Emma replied, flashing a wistful smile. "But she laughs. And that, at least, we haven't lost."

Lea sighed, slumping her shoulders, as if the anger had finally drained.

She sank into one of the few untouched chairs in the workshop, her gaze fixed on some invisible point.

"Tell me everything," she said then, in a low voice. "From the time you left until you returned. Everything."

I looked at her, somewhat surprised.

"Now?"

She nodded.

"Now. I'm... tired of thinking about things I can't change. Let me hear something that actually makes sense for once."

She didn't ask me as an order. It was a gentle plea, a way to seek refuge in something other than guilt and helplessness.

So I walked over and sat across from her, among the wreckage of a world falling apart.

And I began to tell her.

I told her about how Eva had avoided touching anyone in the village, but how she observed everything with her eyes wide open, as if the world were a new book she was daring to flip through for the first time.

About how she hesitated before choosing the locket, and how her eyes lit up when she held it in her hands.

Lea didn't interrupt me much, but when she did, it was with that tone that was so characteristic of hers.

"Remind me to visit that village later," she said at one point, her gaze narrowing. "Those villagers deserve a couple of debilitating curses for comparing Master Victor to Eve."

I swallowed, a drop of sweat running down my temple.

"I-it wasn't that bad... just a couple of gossipy old women..."

"It doesn't matter. Small curses, but lasting ones." Her eyes shone with a hint of cold pleasure. "Maybe some warts that mimic stitch marks on her face."

I preferred to keep counting before she started reciting spells.

At least I didn't tell her it started because of me, otherwise I'd have to sleep with one eye open for days.

I told her about Eva's small smile while she sipped hot chocolate, how she blushed when she received a compliment from a little girl in the square, and how she didn't know what to do when a dog approached her wagging its tail.

Lea didn't say anything, but I knew she was listening.

I saw how, little by little, her posture relaxed. How the invisible weight on her shoulders didn't disappear, but became a little more bearable.

And for a few minutes, the workshop left in ruins no longer mattered.

Time didn't stop either.

It was just us, sharing a small joy.

And that, I thought, was enough for now.

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The minutes flew by.

Lea smiled faintly. A small, but genuine, warm smile, so rare to see that for a moment it made me forget everything else.

"I would have liked to go," she said, stretching out in her chair. Her body creaked with a dry, but satisfying sound. "Instead of wasting time in this damn workshop..."

I looked at her with a lopsided smile.

"Then next time you'll join us. Eva will be very happy if you come with us."

Lea remained silent. She only murmured, almost voiceless:

"...I see."

She looked away.

She said nothing more.

But I saw the slight blush on her cheeks.

And I understood everything.

Lea wasn't made for sentimental things.

Anyone who said otherwise... either didn't know her, or was lying.

I couldn't help but laugh softly. A short, amused chuckle.

But it was cut short when a harsh cough shook my chest.

I covered my lips with my hand, stifling the sob as best I could.

When I lowered my hand, I stared at my fingers. Luckily, there was no blood.

Still, I felt Lea's gaze boring into me.

I didn't say anything. Neither did she.

The conversation ended there, no words needed.

"Does Eva suspect something?" Lea asked quietly.

"Probably so," I replied, lowering my gaze. "She's always been very perceptive."

"Of course." Lea frowned and squeezed her eyes shut, pressing one hand to her nose."What's missing, besides the time limit, now we have to pretend."

I looked at my fellow homunculus sadly and felt a deep weight build inside me.

Guilt.

I felt that no matter what happens, Eva would be hurt.

Then Lea sighed heavily and clapped her hands softly.

"Keeping this up won't do us any good."

"Let's relax with the pillow and continue tomorrow," she said decisively, crossing her arms.

I smiled slightly. Classic Lea: one bad moment and she comes back proud the next.

That was what most differentiated them.

"...By the way..." I murmured after a few seconds of silence.

"Hmm?" Lea looked at me with mild curiosity.

"About my suggestion yesterday..."

"No."

The word cut through the air like a knife.

Her expression changed immediately, turning hard, cold.

"You said to insist if it was an option," I tried to argue. "And I think it is."

"I don't care if it is," she said tersely. "I said I'd only consider it if there was absolutely nothing else left. So... forget it."

"But at least one of us could..."

"I said no means no!"

Her voice resonated loudly, and I closed my mouth with an involuntary click. It hurt more than I expected.

"...You really don't know how to read the room," she whispered with a mixture of anger and disappointment. She didn't say it loudly, but I heard it.

"Lea..."

"I'm not changing my mind. This conversation won't happen again. Okay?"

She stood up abruptly, without looking at me.

She stood up abruptly, without looking at me.

"I'm sleepy. I'm going to bed."

And without further hesitation, she left the workshop. The door closed behind her with a sharp slam.

I sat there. Silent.

"...Sometimes I'm a fool," I muttered to myself, hugging my own knees.

Later, when I went up to the room Lea and I shared, I found the door locked from the inside.

The message was clear.

We wouldn't sleep together that night.

So I looked for an empty room somewhere in the mansion... and spent the night alone.

But I didn't regret my words.

It would be worth it... if only Eva could keep one of us.

End of Chapter 14

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Short chapter, I know. I'm sorry for the delay in updates. I'm in the middle of final exams at the University and I'm almost out of time. I hope you like it. Bye bye.