Capella was the most disgusting and disturbing Sin Archbishop yet.
Yup.
No contest.
The moment she slithered into the room—because walking was too normal—Subaru knew she had officially found the worst of the worst.
Capella was… wrong.
It wasn't just her appearance—it was the way she moved, the way her voice slid out of her mouth, the way her flesh shifted like it didn't belong to her.
Her current form? A curvy, overly exaggerated woman in a deep crimson dress, pale skin smooth, lips painted blood red. She looked like someone had tried to sculpt the perfect seductress but made her too artificial, too uncanny—as if the human body itself was nothing more than an accessory to her.
Subaru already hated her.
"Ooohhh, isn't this delightful~?" Capella purred, her voice dripping with something slimy. "To think I'd get to see our most beloved with my very own eyes~! Ahh, but isn't this body boring? Maybe something cuter, hmm?"
And then—oh god.
Her face changed.
Shifted.
Morphed like melted wax, twisting and reforming into a child's face in seconds.
Subaru barely held back a gag.
"Ohh, but that's no fun either, is it?" Capella giggled in a high-pitched, nightmare-inducing voice. Her body warped again, swelling, stretching into something inhuman, her limbs elongating, her mouth splitting into an unnatural grin filled with rows of jagged teeth.
Subaru had to physically stop herself from stepping back.
She forced her face into a cold, unreadable mask, even as her entire soul was screaming.
"Enough," she said smoothly, her voice betraying nothing.
Capella snapped back into her original form—if you could even call it that—tilting her head like an animal studying prey.
"Oooohhh~! Such authority! Such dominance!" she mocked, a sharp grin splitting her face. "What an honor to be commanded by our most beloved! Ahhh, but you know, you know~!" She twirled, arms swaying unnaturally, her form twitching as if she was barely holding herself together.
"Flesh is so boring," she sighed dramatically. "Bodies are so fragile, so worthless! To be bound by such meaningless limitations—hahahaha, how disgusting!"
She turned toward Subaru, eyes gleaming with something sick.
"Would you like me to make you a new one?"
Subaru clenched her jaw.
She hated this woman.
Yup.
Ē~Ē
Dinner with the Sin Archbishops was a nightmare.
Subaru sat at the long, extravagant dining table, posture perfectly poised, expression unreadable, maintaining the exact level of ominous detachment expected of the Witch of Envy. The grand hall was dimly lit, the chandelier above casting flickering shadows across the cultists standing by the walls, waiting, watching, revering.
Across from her, Gluttony ate like their name suggested.
The twin boys devoured everything in front of them, stuffing handfuls of food into their mouths without a care for utensils, for dignity, for anything. They chewed, swallowed, tore through meat, licked their fingers clean, reached for more, and repeated. Their eyes glowed with that inhuman, insatiable hunger, their sharp teeth flashing with every bite.
Food vanished at an alarming rate, entire platters of roasted meat, bread, fruits—gone in minutes. A servant placed a new dish in front of them, and before their hands could even touch it, Subaru saw their mouths already opening.
She swallowed down revulsion. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
Regulus, on the other hand, took one look at his plate and promptly threw it away.
The dish shattered against the floor, the contents splattering against the stone tiles. Cultists flinched but said nothing, servants scrambled to clean up the mess, and Regulus merely sighed, crossing his arms as if deeply offended.
"Is this really the best we can do?" he complained, shaking his head. "Pathetic. Just pathetic. The audacity to serve me—the embodiment of Greed—such insulting mediocrity."
Subaru fought the urge to roll her eyes.
Capella, meanwhile, was completely ignoring her food in favor of teasing Sirius.
She leaned in close, her unnervingly sharp grin widening as she toyed with a lock of the other woman's wild, tangled hair. "Ooohhh, come on, come on~! Don't be shy~! I saw how you looked at him!"
Sirius twitched, the chains wrapped around her arms rattling as she scowled. "Hah?! What nonsense are you spewing this time?!"
Capella's body shifted, her features momentarily morphing into Betelgeuse's face before twisting back to her own. "Hehehehe~! Love~! Devotion~! Aghhh, how it aches, how it burns~!"
Sirius twitched harder.
Betelgeuse, sitting quietly at the far end of the table, simply ate his food.
Strangely enough, he was the most normal one here. He wasn't stuffing his face like Gluttony, he wasn't whining like Regulus, he wasn't tormenting people like Capella. He ate calmly, properly, like a person who actually understood how dinner worked.
Subaru might've been impressed if she wasn't too busy being fucking miserable.
Because, of course, she couldn't eat.
She tried.
She tried.
She had lifted a fork, she had reached for food, but the second her fingers came near—rot.
The bread blackened. The meat shriveled. The fruits collapsed into moldy, grey pulp.
The servants had quickly replaced the plates, thinking something was wrong with the food, but it was the same. Everything she touched decayed.
She sat there, hands motionless, stomach twisting in hunger, watching as everyone else ate.
She wanted to scream.
She wanted to flip the table, grab someone, shake them, demand to know what the fuck was wrong with her, demand to know why she had to be this way, demand to know what kind of monster she had been before she ended up here.
But she couldn't.
She had to keep the facade.
She had to sit there, completely calm, completely detached, completely above it all.
Because if she let herself break—if she let them even glimpse the fact that she wasn't really Satella—
She would die.
So instead, she picked up her glass of untouched wine, slowly swirled it in her hand, and listened as Pandora finally spoke.
"Now, then," she said smoothly, setting down her own cup, "let's discuss the matter at hand."
All attention turned toward her.
Pandora's golden curls gleamed under the candlelight, her expression calm, poised, her lips curled in that pleasant, polite, unreadable smile.
Her eyes flickered toward Subaru. "Reinhard van Astrea, for example."
The air tensed.
Even Regulus frowned slightly at the name.
"A problem," he admitted. "The Sword Saint is always a problem."
Sirius snorted. "Hah! A problem?! Just kill him!"
Pandora simply smiled. "If it were that easy, someone would have done it by now."
Regulus huffed. "Tch. That man is annoying."
"More than annoying," Pandora corrected gently. "A direct obstacle. One we must either eliminate or circumvent."
Subaru said nothing.
Because she didn't know who the fuck Reinhard was, and she was not about to ask.
She just swirled her wine, nodding slightly, letting the conversation move without giving anything away.
"But he's not the only concern," Pandora continued. "The Royal Selection is in motion, and the Half-Elf will become an issue sooner or later."
The Half-Elf.
There it was again.
Subaru had no idea why these people were so obsessed with one specific person, but the way Pandora spoke, the way the Sin Archbishops reacted—this wasn't just some random target. This was important.
Regulus leaned back in his chair. "So, what? You want us to bring her here?"
"If possible."
"And if not?"
Pandora's smile didn't change. "Then we remove her from the game entirely."
Sirius grinned. Capella giggled.
Gluttony licked their teeth.
Subaru stayed perfectly still.
She couldn't react. She couldn't stop this conversation. She couldn't even show hesitation.
Because if she did—if she even so much as questioned it—
They would notice.
They would start to doubt.
And she could not afford that.
So she did the only thing she could do.
She raised her glass to her lips, pretending to drink, and nodded like a villain watching their grand scheme fall into place.
TBC
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