Serian sat by the fire alone, away from his squad.
The charm that little girl gave him hung from his neck, its twin wings now glowing faintly under moonlight.
> "Why can't I throw this away…?"
He clenched it in his fist—and that's when he heard it.
A whisper.
"Do you remember the first death?"
His eyes widened. No one else reacted. The wind didn't blow.
But the voice returned.
"You died in a storm of betrayal."
"Not once. But twice."
---
Dreams of a Stranger's Past
That night, Serian dreamed.
But it wasn't his dream.
He saw a boy standing before two thrones—one of gold, one of black stone.
He walked toward both… and was torn in two.
The gold became him.
The black became her.
And the boy?
> The boy was forgotten.
Serian woke up sweating.
But the name echoed in his head:
"The Original Soul."
---
The Hero Shakes
He tried to brush it off.
But as the squad prepared to head deeper toward Malveth's citadel, Serian found himself faltering.
> "I'm not whole," he muttered.
One of the scouts gave him a strange look.
"You say something, Captain?"
Serian forced a smile.
"No. Let's move."
But inside, he was unraveling.
He wasn't just fighting an enemy anymore.
He was fighting himself.
---
The One Behind the Curtain
Far away, the real MC smiled in the shadows.
> "You feel it now, don't you?"
"You were never a hero."
"You were never a savior."
> "You were just a fragment of me."
And soon, Serian would have to choose:
Fight the Demon Lord.
Or kneel to her.
Or discover the truth…
and defy them both.
---