Re:zero to Echidna

The sky was a lie.

Subaru knew this. The cerulean expanse stretched endlessly above, unblemished by clouds, the sun a perfect golden coin that never burned too bright. It was a painting. A diorama. A stage set for the Witch of Greed to play her favorite role: the doting lover, the patient teacher, the *liar*.

Her fingers carded through his hair as he leaned down, head resting against thighs. If he focused, he could almost pretend the rhythm beneath his ear was bloodflow. But Echidna had no heart. Only hunger.

"Comfortable?" she murmured, adjusting the black lace parasol above them. Its shadow draped over Subaru's face like a veil, cool and constant. Below, the grass of her simulated garden never bent, never wilted. Even the breeze smelled of nothing.

"It's suffocating," he said flatly.

She laughed—a sound like teacups clinking. "Liar. You've never felt more at peace."

He couldn't argue. The sanctuary of her realm was a velvet coffin, yes, but after centuries of screaming, even a coffin felt like respite. Outside, the loops continued. Emilia died. The world froze. Reinhard arrived too late. Again. Again. Again. Here, there was only Echidna's fingers in his hair, her voice in his ear, and the terrible, beautiful truth: *she remembered every version of him.*

"Why this?" he asked, gesturing to the parasol, the fake sun. "You hate theatrics."

"Do I?" She tilted his chin up, her eyes black pools that swallowed the light. "Or do I simply know what you need? A boy who's lived in shadows craves a gentle lie. Sunshine without burn. Love without… complications."

Subaru's throat tightened. *Love*. The word was a barbed hook in his chest. He'd carved it into trees for Emilia. Whispered it into Rem's ear as she caved his ribs in. Now, it rotted between him and a creature who couldn't spell the word without footnotes.

"You don't love me," he said.

"No," she agreed easily. "But I *want* you. Isn't that sweeter? Love is transactional. Sacrificial. Wanting is pure. Eternal." Her thumb brushed his lower lip. "You want me too. Even now, as you seethe with guilt for abandoning that half-elf."

He flinched. Emilia's face flickered in his mind—pale, bleeding, *betrayed*. He'd watched her die a hundred times, but this… this was different. He'd *chosen* it. Traded her life for this counterfeit tranquility.

"She'll reset," he muttered. "She always does."

"Ah, but *you* won't." Echidna's smile sharpened. "Not unless you wish it. You could stay here, darling. Let the loops spin without you. Let them all die in ignorance. Would it be so wrong?"

Subaru closed his eyes. The parasol's shadow clung to him, a second skin. He thought of Rem's flail crushing his windpipe, her voice trembling with misplaced righteousness: *"You reek of sin!"* He thought of Puck's howl as the world iced over. Of Reinhard's sword, forever too late.

Here, there was no scent of the Witch. No one to hate him.

No one *real*.

"What happens to me," he whispered, "if I stay?"

Echidna's hands stilled. For the first time, her voice lost its playful lilt. "You become mine. Truly mine. The door closes. The loops end. And we… *persist*."

*Persist*. Not live. Not thrive. Rot together in this gorgeous limbo, two ghosts haunting each other. Subaru turned his face into her neck. She smelled of ink and ashes.

"Will you get bored of me?"

"Never."

"Liar."

She gripped his hair, yanking his head back until their eyes met. Her gaze was a void, but in its depths, he saw it—the flicker of obsession, raw and ravenous. "You forget, Subaru. I am *Greed*. I do not bore. I *consume*. And you…" Her lips grazed his ear. "You are a feast that never ends."

The parasol above them trembled. Subaru realized the garden was fading at the edges, the sky darkening to a bruise-purple. Echidna's illusion fraying, just for a moment, to reveal the skeletal tea room beneath—bone-white chairs, grimoires stacked like corpses, and the ever-present chalice of memories she sipped from like wine.

This was her truth. Their truth. A mausoleum of stolen moments.

"Stay," she breathed.

And he did.

***

When the loops called—a tug in his gut, the scent of apples—Subaru clenched his fists and let Echidna's hands cover them. "Shhh," she soothed, as the world outside screamed. Emilia died. The ice came. Somewhere, Rem swung her flail at an empty spot where he should've been.

"They'll keep dying," he said dully.

"Yes."

"Forever?"

"Unless you let them go."

He stared at the static sun. The parasol's ribs cast spider-leg shadows over his face. Echidna hummed a lullaby he didn't recognize, her voice the only anchor in the silence.

Anchors drown you, he thought.

But he was so tired of swimming.