The Preperation 5

The golden-haired figure stood before Leonardo, his expression unreadable, his golden eyes gleaming like the sun above them. Leonardo clenched his fists, an uneasy feeling crawling up his spine as the weight of the being's presence pressed upon him.

"You keep staring," the figure said, tilting his head slightly. "You've already figured it out, haven't you?"

Leonardo didn't respond. He didn't have to. The answer was already there, gnawing at the edges of his mind like a whisper he wanted to ignore.

"You're me," Leonardo finally said, forcing the words out.

The figure's lips curled into a smirk. "Ah, there it is. Took you long enough."

"That doesn't make sense," Leonardo muttered, shaking his head. "If you're me, then—"

"Then why do I exist separately from you?" the figure interrupted, finishing his sentence for him. "Simple. I've always been here, waiting. Watching. Don't tell me you never noticed?"

Leonardo felt his teeth grind together. "I don't need another me. I already have enough to deal with."

The golden-haired figure laughed, the sound ringing through the towering white and gold city. "Oh, but that's where you're wrong. You don't have enough of yourself. That's why I'm here."

Leonardo tensed, feeling the weight of his own hesitation pressing down on him. Before he could speak again, a familiar voice cut through the conversation.

"He's not wrong," Virtue said, materializing beside Leonardo, his towering form bathed in a soft glow. His gaze, deep and knowing, settled on both of them. "He is you. But so am I. We always have been."

Leonardo's breath hitched. "What…?"

The golden-haired figure turned to Virtue, his smirk fading into something unreadable. "So, you finally decided to show up?"

Virtue's expression remained calm. "I was always here."

The golden-haired figure clicked his tongue. "Tch. Of course you were. Always standing just behind him, always whispering in his ear, always trying to guide him one way." His gaze flicked back to Leonardo. "And yet, you never realized there were more voices inside you, did you?"

Leonardo clenched his jaw. "You two talk like you've been playing some game behind my back."

"It's not a game," Virtue corrected. "It's who you are."

Leonardo felt his fingers twitch. He didn't like this. He didn't like how right they sounded. "So what, you're both just… me?"

"Not just you," the golden-haired figure said, stepping closer. "We're the parts of you that you refuse to acknowledge."

—

Velvet walked through the wreckage of the Lullaby Isles.

Or rather, what remained of them.

Splintered wood jutted out from the ground like broken bones. The ocean, once a serene blanket of song, was a churning abyss of silence. The air was thick, not with music, but with the absence of it—an unbearable void where melody should have been.

Velvet's fingers grazed a shattered railing. Their heart clenched. "This isn't right," they whispered.

A gust of wind howled through the ruins, carrying with it a sound—no, a voice. Velvet turned sharply.

And there, at the edge of the ruined docks, stood a figure.

It was unlike anything they had seen before. Its form was humanoid, yet fluid, like the ebb and flow of the tide. Its 'skin' shimmered with colors that did not belong to this world, shifting between hues of deep ocean blue and the warm glow of twilight. Its 'eyes'—if they could be called that—were swirling pools of color, reflecting Velvet's own face back at them.

Velvet's breath caught in their throat. "…Who are you?"

The figure regarded them, the light in its eyes pulsing like a heartbeat. When it spoke, its voice was layered—like a chorus, like a song half-remembered.

"I am the echo of a song left unfinished."

The words sent a shiver down Velvet's spine. They swallowed. "That doesn't answer my question."

The figure took a step forward, and with it, the air around them vibrated, like the strings of a plucked instrument. "I am the lullaby that was never sung. The melody lost to the storm. I am you, Velvet Isabella."

Velvet stiffened. "What…?"

The figure reached out, fingers grazing the shattered remains of the dock. "You hear it, don't you? The silence where music should be."

Velvet's throat tightened. They did. They always had. The silence had been there since—

Since the Isles fell.

Their fingers curled into a fist. "Are you saying… you're my resonance?"

The figure's colors deepened, a glimmer of something almost like amusement in its gaze. "Does it matter what I am?"

Velvet took a shaky breath. "Then… what do you want from me?"