Executor can sense her approaching. A similar, painful frequency that he allows to clash with his. So similar to the one that's deafeningly silent now.

Perhaps...he allows it to resonate more painfully than usual. All while he watches the mirror in front of him. Two figures are reflected in it. One like him, another like Arturia...they seem to be working on a musical score together.

Robin approaches behind him. She asks where Sunday is. His shoulders tense, his wings going eerily still. He knew he'd have to face this eventually. He knew....but she's not in the will. So he...made it a lower priority.

But he doesn't run now. In fact, he just looks even more haggard, his shoulders bowing slightly with an incredible weight. He watches the mirror a bit longer.

Then she asks again. His head turns to her, his posture straightening. He doesn't quite meet her eyes.

This used to be easier, when he didn't...feel. When he wasn't personally involved. He's too close to this.

But Sunday entrusted his will to him. Told him to protect the others. His last wish.

"I found him, Signora," he rasps, the words heavy. "I did not find him in time, however."

It's now he turns to her, to properly relay this. "Signora Robin. I regret to inform you that your brother, Sunday, is now dead."