In the Dreamscape, the doors to the Opera House fly open as Niko Segawa makes her entrance, decked out in full regalia and beaming with confidence.

Niko: Listen up, old fart! I’ve had it up to here with—Wait… (she looks around, looking for the Maestro in his usual spot, but not finding any sign of life) … Hello? Hello—? Earth to Maestro?

Shinju: (Shinju, too, is dressed in her Puella outfit. The red koi designs on its black surface catch the light as she enters the opera house close behind Niko) Let’s take a look around. I’m sure we’ll find him. 

Niko: Ugh! Bet he’s skulking around again. I’m not saving his ass when the other guy shows up… (she raises her voice) Hello? Bonjourno?

A blue mist congeals into a plume of smoke near the stage. The figure is too blurry to see at first, but it turns to face the pair, almost as if in a panic, as if it were not expecting visitors. But before too much time can pass to mark the phenomenon, the form of Maestro Velare Ambrosi emerges, his arms outstretched in his usual, smug demeanor.

Velare: Good morning, Diva. …Diva’s other half. I was not expecting you so soon, nor was I expecting an audience. Ah, but having double the turnout I normally have is nothing to lament. Far from it! Indeed, more to witness this spectacle! …The spectacle, Diva, being this aura of confidence you are exuding. Have you, then, learned what you need to defeat our foe?

Niko: Like hell I have! But I have learned something far more important… (she flicks her wrists, causing the opera’s spotlights to turn away from the stage, and instead focus on her) I didn’t become warden of this place to have some smug dipstick walking around like he owns the place. (she moves her hands as if slamming them down onto a table, which causes the royal red upholstering of the opera’s seats to be replaced with a flashier pink — soon after, the entire opera house transforms from an opulent, baroque monument of upper-class excess into a slick, modern concert venue bathed in neon lights) I own this place. And as the only person standing between you and eternal oblivion, I will get what I need from you to save my domain. No more vague hints. No more riddles. No more wild goose chases. No more taking charge behind my back, Maestro. (she walks up to him, and, as silken ribbons emerge from the floor beneath him and wrap themselves around the Maestro’s body, pulling him down on his knees, crosses her arms) Now… out with it, bitch.

For a brief moment as the scene— as the Maestro’s domain— shifts into Niko’s personal aesthetic, a brief flash of genuine panic shines through pale blue eyes. They land on Niko, then Shinju, then Niko again before the gaze calms. As the Maestro’s form is bound and brought to kneel, his eyes close, and a resigned smile crosses his lips.

Maestro: …Well played, Diva. But I will need a stage, even if it is not my own. And my ability to tell a story. If you please, at least.

Niko: … (after a second of consideration, she scoffs) Hmph. Suit yourself. (as the ribbons release the maestro from his humiliation, Niko twirls into the nearest seat and excitedly taps the seat next to her from Shinju — when Shinju takes place next to her, she whispers, giddy like a child) … S-So, how cool was I…?

Shinju: Uh, p-pretty cool. I thought you were a different person for a second… 

Niko: (she giggles) I wanted to step on him for a second there… b-but then I realized I’m wearing a skirt, so… D-Don’t worry, I won’t act that way towards you, of course! … U-Unless— (she clears her throat as the Maestro indicates his performance is about to start)

Velare: Thank you, Diva. …Truly.

With a smug, yet simple smile, though a bit removed from his usual know-it-all attitude, the Maestro pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and stepped cautiously up upon the new stage the Diva had set for him. Making sure his position on this new stage was accurate, Velare gazed out at the duo that comprised his audience as if the “theater” was at max capacity, and spoke with the expertise of an aged orator, narrating what soon became an elaborate, yet crude stage play.

Maestro: …Picture it. Naples, Italy. Sometime or another in the mid 1980s. A beautiful young woman; an orphan with her gambling-addled older brother, wanders a market while her brother is hopefully going to come home with a figurative— and in today’s case, literal— loaf of bread for the day.

The scene behind him on stage shifts, showing a crude, cardboard-puppet-like figure in a long, blue dress, with equally long, black hair. She is wandering by several equally crude, cardboard market stalls, each seemingly colored in crayon. As she does, she passes by a taller young man with short, messy brown hair.

Maestro: She comes across a familiar sight, a friend of her brother’s. This man wanders the gambling halls, trolling around in her brother’s shadow, and hoping some of his luck will rub off by proxy. …Massimo’s a nice enough fellow, if not a bit too lost in the bottle, more often than not. 

The puppets walk side-by-side, the market background shifting with an obvious paper seam into a park by a river. 

Maestro: …Cecilia often denied ever dating Massimo, though I held no objections. Perhaps she didn’t know that I held no objections? But the two spent a few months together, seeing one another virtually every day. One day, however, for reasons she never explained, the girl stopped seeing this young man entirely. …She never told me why, and I would struggle to learn of it later, even using her power. Before either of you inevitably ask.

The scene shifts, and the female puppet bounds away from the young man. His paper expression flips, showing one much more sad, if not cartoonishly so.

Maestro: Massimo returns to his holes, drinking with what meager earnings he can get from the tables, and ignoring the debts accrued in his losses. Eventually, the girl stopped appearing entirely… and after some time, her brother also vanished. The young man was well and truly lost. Whether or not he was dating Cecilia, it cannot be denied that he felt a deep love for her. …In our absence, he befriended an associate of mine… and his newlywed bride, and her sister.

The background scrolls once more, this time with three new puppets entering the scene. A short man with light hair, a woman with white hair, and another, taller woman with light brown hair converge in front of this play’s “protagonist”

Maestro: My friend filled the void that Cecilia and I left behind with these associates. My right hand, Nebbia Piccolo, his new wife Melania, and her sister Katherine. Astute as you may or may not be, you might see where this is going, but please, indulge me further. Ahem… Well, both Nebbia and Massimo tried to trace my whereabouts, as it turns out, yet with scant success. By then, Cecilia had made her wish, perished, shattered… And I had long since left to wander the world, seeing it for both of us, yet blind to the consequences of my hasty retreat away from my home.

The background shifts once more, to a small apartment. Nebbia and Melania’s puppets are side by side, as are Massimo and Katherine’s.

Maestro: Massimo was a kind and simple man, but he had his ambitions, as we all did back then. All of us street rats dreamed of the skyline from a penthouse, after all. Massimo was no different. Perhaps it was his machinations that put the events into motion, or perhaps it was just an echo chamber of desire to escape their situation. 

Once more, the background scrolled. A tinier, more run down apartment, this time with a crib in the center of the room.

Maestro: And unfortunately, Massimo was never one to change his ways. A good man and a good partner, yes, but his first love was always the bottle, and the gambling halls his second. A difficult decision Katherine would have to make, as she broke the news to her sister, brother-in-law, and the man who was now to be a father. Melania offered her sister to help raise her baby in her stead. She had already made her wish, and could not conceive a child of her own, yet she always wanted one with Nebbia. But fate had other plans in mind.

The background scrolls through several scenes in sequence. Nebbia reading a letter, with the other three puppets crowded around him. Nebbia and Melania at an airport, bound for Japan. Massimo and Katherine in their tiny apartment, with Katherine leaving. A baby’s cry could be heard as a small house comes into view, then its interior. The baby is left with an older couple before a tearful Katherine leaves. Katherine reuniting with Melania and Nebbia in Japan. Then, Massimo Giordano, alone in his decaying apartment, a bottle in hand until finally, he stops moving. Finally, the older couple at his grave, holding a small baby boy in their arms, with familiar, brown hair on his tiny head.

Velare: …Luca Giordano was born to my old gambler friend Massimo Giordano and Katherine Agnes Esposito in Naples, Italy. Katherine initially wanted to give the baby she could not afford to her sister, who could not have a child of her own. But Nebbia followed me to Mitakihara, to fulfill my work as a Conductor. Massimo could not afford to follow him, so riddled with debt as he was. I’m not sure if I would have brought him into the Conductors, before you ask, but if I had, I suppose I would have given him the title of “Imposter”. Katherine flew to her sister’s side, but she did not want to bring her baby with her into an active warzone. At the same time, she could not trust her baby’s father with him, either. She left baby Luca with Massimo’s parents, and Massimo soon drank himself to death. As for how Luca came to believe that his father was Nebbia, well, you have the Incubators to thank for that. You see, the creature is far more cunning and ruthless when recruiting for its Balancers. Luca’s grandparents were not entirely unkind to him, but a strict Catholic upbringing for an ambitious young man was always going to leave him more bitter than most youth in the same circumstances. He lamented his childhood, even to the point of embracing the obvious lie that Kyubey fed to him, simply to avenge his circumstances. And now, that lie has become the truth, immutable and unmoveable, and central to his entire existence. That, Diva, is the weapon you need in order to break the Imposter, once and for all. Remind him that his life itself is a lie, and that his veins run with the blood of every street rat that dreams of the horizon from impossible heights.

Niko: … H-huh? So he’s just some guy? Then where did he get the fake mask?

Velare: That, Diva, is not something I can tell you. (Velare very quickly rephrases after clearing his throat) …Because I do not know. I can only speculate from down here. But Worldeater is merely a part of a larger whole, yes? There are other Balancers, each with unique powers of their own.

Niko: (she groans) … I think I’m just gonna stick with wiping that smug grin off his face once he finds out I know the truth than trying to solve that one…

Shinju: Um… come to think of it, didn’t they also come up with a fake baton to attack the gym with? I think Kiwako and them said so. What the heck, is there a Discount Fake Conductor Artifact Warehouse in town? 

Niko: Are they, like, copying things?

Velare: It is entirely possible, and at this exact second in time, the most logical conclusion to draw. One of their number must have the ability to make a replica of our Artifacts, complete with perfect function. …That would explain how Worldeater was able to take so much of this realm from you, as well as pull others in so easily, without your knowledge or consent.

Niko: (she sighs) … So my mask really was the genuine article all along… Why didn’t you tell me any of this earlier, you… butt!

???: Because the wily son of a bitch was a bit preoccupied with something else down here. (From behind the curtains on stage, a slim, pale woman with long black hair emerges, clutching the side of her head. Her eyes are unfocused, dull brown orbs scanning the room until they land on Niko) …That ‘something’ being me, I guess.

Niko: … Wait, were you two having sex in here?

Yuma: (A beer bottle materializes in Yuma’s left hand, which swiftly flies towards Niko’s ribs) Oh you can go fuck right off, asshole.

Shinju: (She jumps up and snatches the beer bottle out of the air before it reaches its target) Who’s this, now!?

Niko: H-Hey! I wasn’t trying to pick a fight!

Velare: (The Maestro clears his throat before Yuma can throw anything else towards the girls) …This is Yuma Amaya. Yuma, these two are associates of Yui’s. The girl in the mask goes by the callsign of ‘Diva’— not by choice, but by convenience— and is the primary reason our rescue mission went as well as it did.

Yuma: Tch… fat good that did me. Once I shake off this concussion or whatever, all bets are off again, Conductor. Just my luck that the disaster lesbian is my only saving grace down here… (Yuma sits down on the edge of the stage, closing her eyes as she holds her head’s left temple) …Can a ghost even get a concussion?

Niko: You can if I want you to!

Yuma: …How exactly does a smug bitch like you know my daughter, again? Don’t tell me she lost a fight to you or something… 

Niko: H-Hey, it’s because of me that you’re even still around—(she groans) Ugh, never mind…

Yuma: I can’t really deny that one. As much as it burns me to my fucking core, I can’t change the fact that I owe my life to my enemy. Even if you’re a newbie, you still look like a Conductor in that god damned mask, and I know who it belonged to. Man, if I could go back and not fight on top of a fucking train… Kaito and Pops were right in the end. Never go Hollywood. (she hops off the stage, slowly approaching Niko while ignoring a defensive Shinju, her eyes shining with rare recognition) …Listen. I’m dead weight in this fight. But go kick his ass extra hard for me, okay? For me, for my daughter, for the smug prick behind me, for my killer, and for all the people who they couldn’t get out, and for everyone you lost because of him. Can you do that, kid? Can you fuck up one failed theater kid for this old, dusty bitch?

Niko: I, uh… (she looks the imposing approaching woman up and down) … I think so? Ma’am? I’ll… do my best!

Yuma: Just ‘Yuma’ is fine. I take to ‘ma’am’ about as well as you take to Diva, am I right?

Niko: I guess I did end up living up to that name after all… (she turns to Shinju) Now we’re taking the fight to him, right?

Yuma walks out of the new auditorium without another word, occasionally still clutching her head. Velare watches her leave before turning back to the duo, his eyes flashing with a look never seen before within them.

Velare: The time is upon us. All of us. As Yuma said, all that remains is to defeat him here, and destroy his mask. Then, Diva, this realm is yours, and yours alone. Only the Angels would have a shred of hope of carving out even an inch of space for themselves. …I’m not being poetic, by the way. Puellae Malefica can still maintain a domain of their own in this place, even with your total control. In case you wondered why Yui still had her gym all this time.

Niko: (she puts her hands on her hips) So what, are you a Puella Whatchamacallit too? You haven’t told me why you were able to redecorate this place!

Velare: Please, Diva, allow an eccentric old man one last mystery, would you? All will be revealed once Worldeater is no more. Let that be your incentive, if not the myriad other reasons.

Niko: Ugh, whatever! Let’s bounce, Shinju…

Shinju: Right. Let’s grab everyone and then teach this kid a lesson. 

Velare watches the two leave, and after a few minutes, the Maestro sighs. The stage— and only the stage— begins to slowly bleed back into its usual shape of the Opera House’s.

Maestro: …The time is indeed upon us. More than anything, my own time is upon me. But if this is what Yui has envisioned… what choice have I other than to see it off, and bow out of the stage? Hmhm… (Standing up and climbing onto the stage, the Maestro’s body becomes once more enveloped in the fog surrounding him when Niko first arrived) …Strange, however, that I did not see this coming.