Earth...

While all of this happened in Teutonia and Jobbernowl… Time had passed by on Earth ever since Randall's untimely death.

To be a tad precise, three months, two weeks, four days and a few hours.

… The world didn't really have a big reaction.

But some people did.

Seventh day of June, three days after Randall's death.

Approximately forty people gathered in a rather well-maintained graveyard, while six men wearing dark cloaks carried an empty coffin.

Four particular humans sat on the very first row.

The closest one to the burial site was a crying man. His disheveled, brown hair spoke volumes of his condition, alongside the clearly visible dark bags hanging on his eyes.

By his side, sat a fair woman, looking even worse than him. Even as she held his hand, her own body couldn't help but quiver.

"Why… W-why did they take him away from us this early?"

"Th-th, they will pay… They will!"

The man yelled out, while the woman and the two other humans tried to comfort him. To no avail.

"Whoever did this to my son shall pay! Heed my words, world!"

While he suffered, the burial took place. In a far distance, cameras waited for people to emerge from that place. Some snagged a few pictures from the event, focusing on the two main "protagonists" of the moment.

Edward Lancaster, one of the public's most popular candidates for the upcoming elections.

The woman by his side, Josephine Lancaster, used to be an American actress. However, she left that life a long time ago in exchange for the role of an adviser. 

"Normally, we'd have requested Mister or Miss Lancaster to speak, but… Given their condition, I think we can all agree that it would be better if Mister Arkwright took the lead," voiced a man, wearing a dark attire. Fitting for a funeral.

One of the men sitting in the front row stepped up, and walked to the front.

"I wish we didn't have to be here. But unfortunately as it was, we are."

His gray hair, which usually fluttered with the passing of the wind, remained abnormally still. 

He faced the guests, with nothing but his sorrow.

"Randall Lancaster… A young, kind man. With his mastery over the sword and the pen, he had a bright future ahead of him. Especially with Edward's guidance… He could have been brilliant."

The lament of the public accompanied his words. Along with the sobs coming from Randall's progenitors.

"This is, without a doubt, a tragedy. However, I believe we can learn from this, and prevent other youngsters from suffering such a horrible fate."

The distant cameras captured every moment of his speech. Along with the overall sadness of the environment.

"Whenever he is, I'm sure that if he were to see us now… He would smile. And hope that, in spite of his passing, we can live a fulfilling life. The life that fate stole from him at such a tender age."

With his final words delivered, the guests were allowed to walk up to the coffin. Many left flowers, and warm words of departure.

… Exactly at 6:34, the wooden box was lowered to the ground, and buried in dirt.

The event continued for a few hours. A few paparazzis managed to sneak in, and interrogated Edward.

"How will this affect your future plans, Mr. Lancaster?"

"I… I can't reply now, sorry."

"Please, Mister! An answer!"

Once spotted, the intruders were kicked out of the area… After they managed to take between five and twenty pictures of the entire thing, that is.

… Eventually, everything died down. And the important people left.

Edward and Josephine were the last to leave, in the same blue sedan they came in.

It took them an hour, but the Lancasters had finally arrived at their residence.

And their demeanors took on a 180° turn.

"That was tiring."

"I know, darling. But this will help us to reach our end goal~" 

Edward sighed, and took off the tie from his shirt. "Right, right… Either way, this is probably the last time we'll have to spend a dime on that ungrateful bastard."

…

A few months after his passing, a weak girl still lay on a white bed, wearing only a blue hospital gown.

Throughout the last five years, no one saw her move even a single finger. But that changed.

Her eyes opened, weakly… And witnessed the room around her. The overbearing white, and the lack of even a single speck of dust.

She attempted to move, but failed miserably.

"... Uh? Doctor, call the Arkwright Family! The Young Miss seems to have finally regained consciousness!"

"Understood, Director."

She fell asleep again.

… By the time she rose from her slumber, seven people stood in the room.

"S-Sophia, you're… I'm glad you-"

"Where…"

Everyone looked at her, attentively.

"... Is he?"

Most of the present people showed a minimal reaction. Some sighed, while others let out an annoyed sigh.

"He's-"

"Randall is waiting for you. He said he'll only let you see him once you recover," declared Arkwright, coldly.

Her face almost burned with determination. She even tried to get off the bed, but the doctor and a nurse stopped her. "Wait! You've just woken up, you can't just get up and walk."

She attempted to resist, but the doctors restrained her while the nurse injected something in her arm.

"Y-you… ah.."

Sophia collapsed on the bed, again.

"She really fought back, huh…" muttered the doctor.

"Yeah. How stubborn."

The director approached the four clients. "My apologies, but we'll need you four to leave."

"Understood. By the way, we should have a drink one of these days," replied Will Arkwright.

"..... Yes." The director's voice sounded distant, yet focused on its goal.

They left Sophia and the medical staff alone, yet, not even that allowed Edward to keep a notoriously annoyed sigh to himself. "She spent years stuck in a comma, and the first thing she does is ask about that dishonorable rascal."

"Not surprising. You know how much she cared about him, and vice versa. A look at Randall's last few years should be telling enough…"

"Tch, don't remind me of that failure. The only purpose he ever served was acting as a bridge for our alliance."

Will partially kept his silence, but deep inside agreed with him. All he had to do was recall the day he ran away from home.

While he was used to seeing Edward stressed, he couldn't say the same thing about Josephine… As far as his memory goes, that period of time took the crown for being her most stressful era.

"Edward, do you remember the rat pest I told you about?"

Randall's father nodded. "Yes. You described them as 'resilient, unyielding bastards.' What about them?"

"I'm starting to think it might be a good time to call a clean-up crew."