The only sound was the carriage wheels carving through the desolate land in the dead of night. Four hours had passed since they left London. Outside the window, the hills of Surrey stretched hazily under the moonlight. The soot-free country air was cold, and the scent of grass drifted into the carriage. Ciel Phantomhive leaned back deeply into his seat, eyes closed. On his lap lay the map he had seized from the abandoned warehouse hours earlier. Coordinates marked with a red circle — the ruins of the old Phantomhive manor. A place he had not set foot in for three years. (*The remnants are there.*) Greta's words still echoed in his head. *"That child was crying. But he was laughing, too. He was angry. Properly angry."* Something trembled faintly deep in his chest. Not fear. Something else — a sensation he could not put into words. "[gentle]Young master, we will be arriving shortly." The perfect butler's voice came from the seat opposite him. His jet-black hair was without a single strand out of place, his crimson eyes gleaming faintly in the darkness. The demon wore a faint smile, as if he saw through everything. "[cold]I know." Ciel answered without opening his eyes. (*I don't need you to tell me.*) The carriage slowed. The coachman seemed to be reining in the horses. "[gentle]We shall proceed on foot from here. It would spoil the mood if the sound of the carriage alerted the enemy." "[cold]Do as you like." The two of them stepped down from the carriage. The night wind was cold. Desolate land stretched as far as the eye could see. Where beautiful gardens had once spread, weeds now grew thick, and the charred remains of trees jutted upward. Beyond them lay the ruins of the old manor. Crumbled stone walls. Only the chimney, blackened with soot, stretched strangely toward the sky. Three years since the fire — the rubble was buried in grass, like a colossal gravestone. Ciel's feet stopped for just a moment. (*Here, Papa and Mama were—*) His throat tightened sharply. "[gentle]Young master." Sebastian's voice pulled him back to reality. "[cold]...Let's go." Ciel straightened his back and walked toward the ruins. --- The hidden staircase to the basement lay beneath the collapsed floorboards. Sebastian effortlessly cleared away the rubble, revealing the stone steps. Damp air crept up from below. It smelled of mold and something charred. Step by step, they descended. The lantern light illuminated ancient Latin inscriptions carved into the walls. The words they had found that time, carved in later — *"When the sacrifice desires it, the door shall open."* And then, the center of the basement. The hexagram burned into the floor was there. The same ominous shape as three years ago. Someone had placed fresh candles at its center. Proof that the remnants had been trying to resume the ritual. —At that moment. "[shouting]Don't move!!" Two men leaped out from behind a pillar. Knives in hand, their eyes gleaming with a strange light. Remnants of the Cerberus Circle. "[shouting]Hand over the sacrifice! With this, the ritual will be complete!" Ciel did not so much as flinch. "[cold]Sebastian." A short command. "[gentle]Yes, my lord." The next instant. Sebastian's form vanished. —*Shunk.* The first man's wrist bent in an impossible direction. The knife clattered to the floor. Before he could even scream, Sebastian's hand seized the man by the chest and slammed him against the wall. *Thud.* The second man attacked from behind. But Sebastian turned and wrenched his arm into a reverse joint-lock. *Crack* — the sound of bone shattering. "[screaming]GYAAAAAAHH!!" The man's body was hurled toward the ceiling. He slammed into a beam with a *boom* and crumpled to the floor. It had not even taken ten seconds. Sebastian elegantly adjusted his white gloves and bowed toward Ciel. "[gentle]Young master, if you please." His voice was as calm as if he were ushering him to a dinner table. Ciel glanced at the two unconscious men. "[cold]Hand the rest over to Randolph. Contact Scotland Yard later." "[gentle]Yes, my lord." Ciel walked alone toward the center of the hexagram. Watching his retreating figure, Sebastian leaned his back against a pillar near the entrance. He said nothing, simply gazing with those crimson eyes. --- Ciel sat down in the very center of the hexagram. The cold stone floor. It had been the same coldness three years ago. The feel of chains on his wrists. The smell of smoke. The color of the flames. (*I remember—*) He closed his eyes. Greta's voice came back to him. *"That child was crying. But he was laughing, too. He was angry. Properly angry."* (*Was I... angry?*) For three years, he had believed he was nothing but a coward who just wanted to run away. That revenge was an afterthought, an excuse — that in truth, he had simply been afraid, wanted to be saved, and clung to a demon. That was what he had believed. But. *"You were properly angry, little one."* Deep, deep in his chest, something cracked. The seal on the memories he had kept a lid on for three years — slowly, bit by bit, was being pried open. The color of the flames. The smell of smoke. The cold stone floor. The pain of the chains binding his wrists. The fragments began to arrange themselves in order for the first time. He had screamed his parents' names. Cried until his tears ran dry, until his throat was raw. A month of captivity — nights spent trembling alone in a dark cage. And then, the night of the ritual. The flames of the hexagram blazed up, and a black shadow emerged. A tear slipped from Ciel's eye. The next moment — the memories connected completely. --- It was fire. Robed men surrounded him. The sound of chanting. At the center of the hexagram, ten-year-old Ciel was bound in chains. He was crying. But his tears were already nearly spent. That was when — the darkness took shape. A jet-black shadow formed a human figure and opened crimson eyes. Sebastian. The demon approached the boy in the cage directly. The ritualists stood frozen at the impossible sight. The demon asked in a quiet voice: *"Do I have your permission to kill everyone here?"* Ten-year-old Ciel — trembling though he was — raised his head. His eyes were swollen from crying, his lips were cut, and his body was covered in bruises. But those eyes alone — burned with hatred. He was afraid. Terrified beyond measure. But more than that, he hated them. The ones who killed his parents. The ones who put him in a cage and laughed. The ones who called him a sacrifice and thought nothing of human life — all of them, every single one, he could not forgive. Ten-year-old Ciel clenched his teeth and screamed. "[crying]Kill them...!!" His voice echoed through the hexagram chamber. "[angry]KILL THEM ALL!!!!" Tears, screams, hatred — everything came together and was hurled at the demon. That was my answer. I wasn't just afraid. I didn't just want to run away. I wanted revenge— That night, without a doubt, I hated them. --- Ciel slowly opened his eyes. His cheeks were wet. Tears were overflowing, unstoppable. But. The corners of his mouth were smiling. "[laughing]...Haha." A small, but unmistakable laugh escaped him. "[laughing]Hahaha... I see..." His voice grew louder. Tears streaming down his face, Ciel laughed. Laughing so naturally it was almost absurd. (*My desire for revenge was real.*) The guilt that had tormented him for three years. The belief that he was a coward who ran away. All of it — wrong. That night, the ten-year-old me — was properly angry. Properly hated them. Properly wished for revenge. "[laughing]So... that's how it was..." Ciel stood up. His knees would not stop trembling. The tears would not stop either. But he stood firmly on those legs, turned around — and looked Sebastian straight in the eye. "[serious]The contract continues, Sebastian." His voice did not waver. "[serious]Until my revenge is complete, you are my butler. This is the answer of my soul." Sebastian gazed at Ciel with his crimson eyes. The usual elegant smile vanished from his face. The boredom of millennia — in that pitch-black darkness, something began to quietly burn in those eyes. *This soul is, after all, something special.* That color of certainty dwelled deep within the crimson. Sebastian knelt deeply. "[gentle]Yes, my lord." An elegant bow. And then, immediately after rising smoothly to his feet— "[gentle]Incidentally, young master." Sebastian added casually. "[gentle]Your face is in a dreadful state." "[angry]Shut up!" He snapped back reflexively — but his voice was faintly, just barely, soft. (*This bastard...*) It was infuriating. But somehow, he didn't dislike it. --- When they exited the basement ruins, the eastern sky was beginning to pale. Dawn. The two boarded the carriage and set off on the road back to London. While checking the knots on the ropes binding the remnants to hand over to Randolph, Ciel pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket. The list of Cerberus Circle remnants that Lau had secretly pressed upon him the day before. Three names and their locations were written on it. Ciel unfolded it. His gaze fell upon the name at the top. There was no hesitation in his eyes. The eyes that had been wet with tears back then were now quietly — but unmistakably — burning. "[gentle]Where to next?" Amid the swaying of the carriage, Sebastian asked. Ciel, leaving the list unfolded on his lap, looked out the window at the dawn and answered. "[cold]That's obvious." The morning sun was beginning to dye the mist gold. "[serious]We hunt down the rest. Every last one." The carriage raced onward into the light of dawn. Arc 2 — the true revenge arc against the remnants — now begins.