Talia turned her head, squinting up at the silhouette behind her. A faint frown tugged at her mouth. When May's eyes met hers, Talia flinched as if struck.
She forced a smile back toward Chrono. "Do you know her, Zeph?"
Chrono looked at Talia, then at May. His face tightened—wide eyes, body trembling ever so slightly—though he fought to keep it subtle.
How did she find us?
No… that's the wrong question. The real question is why I didn't see her after homeroom.
It's a big school, sure, but I pass most of my classmates at least once a day. I even share classes with some. The odds say I should've seen her. So why…
Why didn't I see her?
Why is she here?
What does she want?
"Earth to Zeph!" Talia's voice snapped him back; she poked his cheek with the straw.
Chrono flinched and held a hand up to block it. "Cut it out. I zoned out, that's all."
"If you say so~."
Talia put the straw back in her drink and took a sip. "So—are you going to answer my question?"
There was a beat before Chrono forced the words out. "Yeah… I do. And she's… a truly terrible person." His voice lacked conviction, as if he had to pry the sentence from himself.
May's maniacal laugh cut through the silence. "Ohhhh~ I love that look on your face, Zephhhh! It suits you."
Talia slapped May's hand off her shoulder and pushed to her feet, facing her with sudden steel. Hands on her hips, she said, voice hardening, "I don't know who you are or what history you have with Zeph, but you can't just interrupt our conversation because you feel like it."
"Oh really now? I believe my actions are justified." May said, almost sweetly.
Talia blinked. "Justified?"
May's smile widened, arrogantly open. "It so happens that recently, Zeph did something to me so unforgivable I simply can't shrug it off."
"And you think that gives you the right to interrupt our conversation?"
May spread her arms in theatrical triumph. "Indeeeed! If you knew what he did to me, you'd agree!"
"I'm not interested in what he did to you, and it's none of my business."
May shrugged as if disappointed for them both. "Awww, that's a shame. I'd really love to drag Zeph's name through the dirt, but oh well."
Talia's expression grew sterner. "I think you should leave. Right now you're just a barrier to our conversation."
May scoffed. "Leave? Ha. Did you not hear me? My actions are justified. It's my right to inconvenience Zeph as much as I want. After all, I'm returning the favor."
Talia clenched her fists, meeting May's gaze with cold fire. "Favor? What favor? From what I hear, you're a hypocrite. You use his actions to justify yours. You call it justice, but you're just repeating his offense. You wear victimhood like armor and throw stones. You give me no reason to sympathize. You're not better—you're worse. You're a hypocrite who uses other people's sins to make yourself look clean."
May's smile thinned until it was gone; her eyes simmered with controlled rage. "Stop pretending you know me."
"Huh?"
"Who said I was playing victim? Who told you I called this justice?" May stepped forward. "I care zero for your opinion. My goal is to make his life a living hell. I don't care what you think. I will make it happen. So shut up—you don't know anything."
"You truly are… a terrible person," Talia said bluntly.
May's hand snatched Talia by the collar. "Me? Terrible? Do you know what he did to me? Look what he turned me into!"
Chrono slammed his fist on the table. "That's enough. You're creating a scene."
May clicked her tongue and released Talia. "Weeelll, look who finally spoke up."
"Leave Talia out of this. She didn't do anything," Chrono said, rising from his chair.
May laughed and shook her head. "Leave her out? She's your companion, right? Anyone associated with you is an enemy."
"What exactly do you want? What do you hope to achieve?" Chrono asked, stepping closer, voice steady.
"I wanted to send a message," May replied, lips curling. "A message to you."
"And I believe you already did."
May's smirk widened. "Indeed. How perceptive of you, Zeph. You spared me the talking."
"You're playing a risky game here, May."
"Risky game?"
"Doing this means you're directly interfering with its plans."
May shrugged. "It gave me free will. So I'm free to screw you over. Hell, I've said I'm helping its plans."
Chrono placed a hand lightly on Talia's shoulder. "Very well. I accept your challenge, May."
Her smirk split wider. "How bold. Do you truly think you can defeat me?"
Chrono's face went hard. "Yes. Before this challenge ends, I will get rid of you."
May erupted into laughter, a sound that edged into madness. "Brilliant! Magnificent! Superb, Zeph Chrono! You triggered it—you triggered it!"
"Huh… triggered what?"
May's laughter snapped shut. Her voice dropped like ice. "Veritas Law."
The same gray fog that had swallowed the library seeped into the café, curling between tables. Background chatter thinned as people blurred and faded until only the three of them remained.
From the fog a shadow detached itself — a figure with a bow. It pulled an arrow from nowhere, nocking and drawing. As it released, shimmering chains coalesced around May's right leg and Chrono's left.
Talia stared, eyes wide with fear and confusion. "What the hell…"
"May! What is this? Did you bait me into this?"
May swept a palm in a placating motion. "Easy with the accusations."
"Quit messing with me."
"Fine. I'll explain—since it affects us both. Just this once." May cleared her throat. "You triggered Veritas Law. 'A vow made is a vow kept.' It triggers when: the person making the vow— you —the person the vow is directed to— me—and a witness—Talia— are all present. If those conditions are met, Veritas Law activates."
"So you're saying my line—'Before this challenge ends, I will get rid of you'—with Talia present, triggered Veritas Law?" Chrono asked, incredulous.
"Yeeep," she drawled.
"What qualifies as a vow?" he pressed.
May shrugged. "A declaration. A promise that must be kept."
"And if it isn't kept?"
She smiled with relish. "Figure it out, Zeph. You're a smart guy."
This isn't good at all.
Unlike the Nocturne Law, this one can be triggered without your consent, or rather, it's harder to control when it triggers.
If a simple declaration counts as a vow, then basically anything you say can be counted as a vow if two other people are present.
As long as that declaration is directed towards someone else and other person is there as a witness, Veritas Law will trigger.
"A vow made is a vow kept."
That means that any vow made must be fulfilled.
If I joked around and said that I'm going to take over the world then I'd have to take over the world, else that vow wont be kept.
That means I HAVE to get rid of her before this challenge ends or I'll face unknown consequences.
I'm going to assume those consequences is death…
Damn it… I keep digging myself into a bigger hole.
Ever since this challenge started I've been making it difficult for myself.
First, I gave May the book, she died and that triggered some sort of personality change which led to this happening.
There's a set of laws that govern the challenge. I'm unaware of them. That makes everything super difficult now.
If I don't know what triggers what law, so I have to be extremely cautious about every move I make.
And even that doesn't guarantee safety.
Suddenly the shadow figure drew another arrow and loosed it through Chrono's chest. The shaft didn't pierce flesh— it didn't physically wound him—yet the act carried weight, an accusation that vibrated through the fog.
"You carry the burden," the figure intoned, its voice ringing and reverberating through the endless gray.
Chrono's eyes widened; his mouth dropped open. "It's sentient."
May shrugged, amusement flickering across her face. "Even I was surprised the first time I heard it speak. It's a shocker, isn't it?"
"How do you know so much?"
May looked around with a careless, theatrical sweep before planting a finger at her chest. "Who? Me?"
Chrono exhaled in frustration. "Who else?" His eyes narrowed; his voice grew more demanding. "You know about the shadow soldiers and their rules. That's not knowledge you get outta nowhere."
May set a hand on her hip and tilted her head, as if the weight of his accusation were a physical thing pressing against her. "What—you think I talk just because I can?"
"What are you getting at?" Chrono pressed.
May sighed, sounding mildly exasperated. "What did I just say about Veritas?"
Chrono repeated, almost reflexively, the line she'd said earlier. "Even I was surprised when I first heard it speak. It's a shocker, isn't it?"
"And what does that tell you, Zeph?"
"That you've met them face to face."
"Something like that, yeah." May clapped once, delighted. "So—does that answer your question?"
"Yeah. It does."
May's smile spread, mockingly congratulatory. "Brilliant, Zeph Chrono!" She clapped again—light, theatrical—then leaned in with sharp interest. "Now tell me: what do you think Veritas meant when it said you 'carry the burden'? What does that arrow symbolize?"
"Why are you asking me these things?" Chrono snapped, suspicious.
"Hmmm?"
"Wouldn't it be better if I stayed ignorant? You'd have an easier job if I didn't know any of this."
May scoffed and shook her head. "I can assure you, anything I tell you won't help you beat me. The damage is done. Where's the harm in telling your opponent something after they're already affected?"
A bead of sweat rolled down Chrono's temple. He said nothing — he couldn't easily refute that logic.
"Now then," May taunted, tapping her temple with two fingers, "can you answer, Zeph? Or are you too stuuuupid to figure it out?"
Chrono's jaw tightened. He shook his head. "No. If I'm honest, the answer's obvious — it actually hurts how obvious it is."
"Then what are you waiting for?"
He lifted two fingers. "The presence of the arrow answers both your questions. What does Veritas mean when it says you 'carry the burden'? And what does the arrow symbolize?"
He lowered one finger and spoke carefully. "The arrow marks the Veritas Law's clause: 'a vow kept.' It's a sigil that reminds you of the choice you made — the vow you're bound to uphold. Being struck in the chest? That's symbolic: I'm on borrowed time. Fail to keep the vow and it's death. That's what the arrow means."
Chrono lifted his second finger. "Why do I carry the burden? Because I made the vow. I spoke the promise aloud. That's why I'm the one pierced by the mark — only I will suffer the consequences if it isn't fulfilled. Only I carry the weight. Only I will… die, if I fail."
May's applause rang out through the fog, bright and mocking. "Brilliant interpretation, Zeph Chrono. I was beginning to wonder if you'd gone a little slow upstairs."
"You know, I disagree with you," Chrono muttered.
May cocked an eyebrow. "Huh?"
"You said anything you told me wouldn't help me. I think you're wrong."
"Oh?"
"I have no choice but to get rid of you," he said simply. "That knowledge—that I must remove this obstacle—that is more than enough to push me forward."
May scoffed dismissively. "You really think this setback benefits you? How delusional."
"If that's your interpretation, I won't change your mind."
As if on cue, the fog thinned. The café and its people slowly snapped back into focus; the world resumed around them. Eyes from the room had drifted to their corner — curious, alarmed — and the sudden intensity of attention made Chrono's skin prickle. A cold sweat trickled down his cheek.
It doesn't look like time passed for the people in the cafe..
"Annnd that's that. My job here is done." May stretched her arms lazily toward the ceiling, exhaling with exaggerated satisfaction, as if mocking the tension she had just caused.
Chrono raised a brow. "You're… leaving?"
She tilted her head and gave him a sly grin. "What? You enjoy my company or something? Gross." May squeezed her nose dramatically and fanned her hand, pretending to waft away an unpleasant smell. "Anyway, I came here to deliver a message, not to hang around and make your day worse."
Chrono's eyes narrowed, his lips curving into a faint smirk. "It's funny you say that."
May's smirk deepened. "I'm not sure what you mean by that."
"You don't have to." His tone dropped lower—cool, but charged.
May turned her back on him, her expression unreadable. "Well," she said lightly, "I'll take my leave then."
But as she reached the door, Chrono's voice cut through the café, quiet but piercing. "Do you really have free will?"
The words hung in the air.
May froze. For a long moment, she didn't breathe, didn't move. Then, ever so slightly, she turned her head to the side—not enough to meet his gaze, but enough that he could see her lips tighten. No answer came. She faced forward again, pushed open the door, and walked out into the fog without a word.
The café fell utterly silent. Every pair of eyes locked on Chrono and Talia. The stillness cracked with murmurs—hushed speculation that crawled through the air like static.
Even a worm could figure out what they were whispering about.
It's strange, though…
Does May even exist?
She's supposedly related to the owner, but not one person here recognized her.
If we made that much of a scene with a relative of the owner, there should've been some kind of reaction—some attempt to stop us.
Maybe it's policy. Or maybe…
He clenched his jaw.
Maybe I'm overthinking it.
But…
Who the hell is May Jackson, really?
Chrono turned to his side—Talia was trembling, wide-eyed, her breathing ragged. He immediately stepped in front of her, voice full of concern. "Hey, are you alright!?"
Talia looked up at him. The trembling eased slightly, her face softening. "I… I don't know…"
"Well, do you want to go somewhere less… uneasy?"
She nodded weakly. Slowly, her shaking stopped, replaced by a faint, grateful smile.
---
Outside the convenience store, Talia exhaled deeply, finishing the last of her bottled water before tossing it into the nearby trash bin. The tension seemed to melt from her shoulders.
"Thanks a lot for that, Zeph," she said with a small smile, resting a hand over her chest. "I needed that."
Chrono shrugged, a modest smile on his lips. "Yeah, no problem."
"My heart…"
Chrono tilted his head. "Your heart?"
Talia nodded. "It was beating so fast during all that. I thought I was gonna pass out."
"Oh…" Chrono's expression turned somber. "I'm really sorry, Talia. I dragged you into this. It's clearly more than you should have to handle."
Talia poked his cheek with a light laugh. "No, that's not true. I agreed to help you, remember?"
"That doesn't change the fact that you're a target now," Chrono replied quietly. "May's dangerous. If I knew it would come to this, I never would've asked. I don't want to endanger others for my own sake."
Talia suddenly pinched his cheeks, stretching them with a mischievous grin. "Calm down, silly~ We're in this together, aren't we? We're partners."
"In this together, huh…"
There was a brief pause. Talia's expression softened as she let go of him. Chrono studied her for a moment before speaking. "Say… Talia. Why did you agree to this? I still can't wrap my head around it."
She placed a finger on her lip and looked up thoughtfully. "It sounded fun. What? Can't a girl have fun~?"
"That can't be it."
"Huh? What do you mean, Zeph?"
"I mean…" he sighed, "how are you so quick to accept the supernatural?"
Talia went silent. Her gaze drifted to the ground, a faint melancholy shadowing her eyes.
"Someone tells you they're looping the same day," Chrono continued. "Sure, I told you things only you'd know — but even that could be luck or coincidence. Most people wouldn't believe me. So why did you?" His voice wavered slightly, a mix of confusion and something more vulnerable.
Talia's lips parted, then she smiled — softly, almost wistfully. "I've always believed in the supernatural," she said. "I've always wanted to. I wanted fiction to be real."
She began to walk in slow circles around him, her steps light, almost like a skip, her tone turning nostalgic. "It's childish, I know. Wanting to believe in magic, in powers, in worlds beyond ours. But when I was little, that dream was the only thing that kept me going. The idea that maybe — just maybe — I could shoot lasers from my eyes or wave my hand and make things better… it was silly. But it gave me something to look forward to."
Chrono frowned softly. "Kept you going?"
She nodded, eyes distant now, her voice trembling faintly with emotion. "I… didn't have the best childhood. There were a lot of nights I wished I could just disappear. But when I imagined the impossible — when I imagined something greater out there — it gave me hope. Hope that maybe life wasn't just this endless struggle. Hope that maybe one day, I'd wake up and things would be… better."
Chrono folded his arms, his tone gentle. "So… supernatural things helped you through it. That's why you're so quick to believe."
"Yeah," Talia said quietly. "That's one way to put it." She looked up at the sky, a faint breeze catching her hair. "And now that I know the supernatural exists… it's like a spark lit inside me again. Like that little girl who used to dream — she's awake again."
She turned toward him, her expression warm and sincere, and took his hand in both of hers. "Zeph, I don't want you to regret asking for my help. Because I mean it — I appreciate it."
Chrono blinked, caught off guard by the honesty in her voice. Then a small, genuine smile formed on his lips. "I feel like… I understand you a lot more now."
Talia stepped back, still smiling, and extended her arm dramatically toward him. "That's good to know! From this point on, Zeph, we're partners. No regrets, no saying sorry. We're in this together."
A gust of wind swept past, brushing her hair aside.
Chrono hesitated for only a moment before taking her hand. "Alright. No regrets," he said, his tone calm but resolute. "It's a pleasure to be working with you, partner."
I'm going to clear this challenge.
I'm going to defeat May.
And I'm going to protect Talia.
No matter what… I will achieve all these goals.
Even if I lose myself doing it.