Third Implantation (25)

Erna's form stilled, her fingers brushing against the edge of the bed as if grasping for some semblance of balance. Her crimson-irised gaze locked onto Vastarael, though the flicker of surprise in her black sclera betrayed her composed demeanor.

For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the faint rustles of the bed.

"You are... perceptive. Far more than I anticipated."

Vastarael didn't budge, his sly smile fading into a neutral expression, his golden eyes fixed on her as if to dissect her next words.

"You didn't answer the question, Erna. Why fake your death?"

Her gaze softened for a fraction of a second before her regal mask returned.

"You are correct, Vastarael. A Phantasm does not die as mortals or immortals understand death. Our forms may perish, but the essence of our existence remains intact, immutable and eternal. Much like the Nexuses of your world, our essence is bound to the fabric of creation itself. We transcend death, in its trivial mortal sense."

Vastarael tilted his head slightly, his arms still crossed. "Go on."

Her fingers tightened against the silk sheets of the bed, her posture regal even as she sat.

"When I fell at the hands of my husband, my world believed that Erna, the Phantasm Rank Krepsuna, had perished. My body became the Isles that now bear my name, a land forged of my shattered essence and the grief of my demise. But as you have so keenly deduced, my soul was never destroyed. Such an act is beyond even the strongest of Nexuses, let alone Krepsuna."

"Immortality," Vastarael said, his tone laced with understanding. "Not just in body but in soul. So you chose to let the world think you were dead. Why?"

"Because immortality is both a gift and a curse," she said, her crimson irises shimmering faintly. "The body may reform, the soul may endure, but we are creatures bound by purpose. Without purpose, immortality becomes... a torment."

"And yet, you had purpose. You had your children. You had power. Why throw it all away?"

A faint, sardonic smile curved her lips.

"You speak as though immortality has made me infallible. My children..."

Her voice faltered briefly, a crack in her otherwise flawless tone.

"My children were the greatest part of my existence. And it is because of them that I had to sever myself from the world. My presence drew dangers that even I could not always counter. Enemies who would stop at nothing to see me undone, and through me, my kin."

"So back in Dimensium, your children were being hunted down, even by your own husband."

"Yes. And so, I chose exile. I wove the lie of my death, left my children with the strength to forge their own paths and anchored myself to the Obsidian Crimson Spire. Here, I have remained, guarding secrets that could unravel the very nature of our existence."

Vastarael's golden eyes narrowed, his mind dissecting her words.

"And the trials you gave me?"

Erna's expression softened, though her tone remained as ancient and dignified as ever.

"The trials were not meant to test your strength, Vastarael. They were meant to reveal your nature. To see if you were worthy of the truths I hold and capable of bearing the weight of them without losing yourself. You were drawn here not as a mere challenger but as a successor, one who could stand where even gods have faltered."

"..."

"My husband injured me back in Dimensium and I died on Spheraphase after I found a Passageway to here. And then, my children came to look for me, only to find my dead body becoming a group of islands. Then my husband came to see if I was dead and captured my children."

"And you couldn't help them because you had Shimmer. Or rather, she was too young and accompanied you to Spheraphase. Your soul stayed with her."

"Yes. But then... he found me. He thought he killed me but he didn't. My children saved Shimmer from his father and I... I used my remaining Divine Energy to build this spire on one of my body parts."

"And the children you left behind? Shimmer remembers you dying. She remembers her father killing you. And yet, you've done nothing to reunite with her or your other eight children. Your husband captured them and imprisoned them in an abyss connected to this spire. You let them believe the lie, let them grow without you, all with the desire for revenge for their father for killing you. Why?"

"To preserve their future. My presence would have stifled their growth. They would have clung to me, sought my protection, and remained bound to my shadow. I loved them enough to let them go, to allow them the freedom to rise as their own beings."

Vastarael exhaled slowly, rubbing his temples.

"So, let me get this straight. You abandoned your children to protect them, faked your death to avoid bringing danger to them, and created this Spire to wait for someone who could... what? Replace you?"

"To understand me," Erna corrected. "To understand the purpose of what we are and the roles we play in the grand tapestry of existence. You, Vastarael, have proven yourself capable of that understanding. Whether you realize it or not, you are more than the sum of your title and essence."

"Gee, thanks," he said dryly. "So now what? You hand me the secrets of the Spire and vanish again? Or is this the part where you reveal some grand destiny?"

"No. Have you noticed something? Use your Soul Vision."

His brow furrowed at her cryptic words, but he shrugged off the unease and closed his eyes momentarily. A faint azure glow emanated from his irises as they reopened, and the room seemed to shift in his perception.

His gaze landed on Erna and his breath hitched.

His heart was inside her.

Suspended within her form, pulsing faintly with life, was his heart. Not metaphorically or symbolically, but the very heart that had been stolen from him during the ordeal with Permafrost's Grasp. Its radiant signature was unmistakable, carrying the unique essence of an Aeterium, now beating steadily within her.

And his eyes.

He blinked in disbelief, his gaze flicking to her own, where a faint trace of his essence lingered.

Her crimson irises bore the unmistakable signature of his eyes, the same ones he'd lost when his mother, in her ruthless desire to prepare him for survival, had slashed his eyes. Those very eyes had regrown in him, permanently activating his Mystic Sight, but his original eyes were residing in Erna.

"Well that's... interesting."

"I see you've realized it now. The heart and the eyes... they are yours, Vastarael. Or rather, they were. I... took them."

He let out a small huff of disbelief, running a hand through his hair.

"Yeah, I figured that much. Care to explain why you decided to rob me of my organs and use them?"

Her fingers lightly brushed against her chest, just over where his heart resided within her.

"I did not take them out of malice, Vastarael. I took them to live."

His eyebrows shot up but he said nothing, letting her continue.

"Your heart, Vastarael, has allowed me to anchor my soul to this form, to continue existing in defiance of the limitations placed upon me. With my power and your Aeterium heart, I managed to recreate a physical form, the one you're looking at."

Vastarael stared at her for a long moment. Then, to her utter astonishment, he shrugged.

"You can keep them."

Erna froze, her formal composure faltering for the first time as her eyes widened slightly.

"...What?"

"You heard me," he said nonchalantly, pushing off the wall and standing straight. "Keep them. If I took my heart back now, which I cannot, I'd lose the pseudo-core it left behind and that thing's been pretty handy for me. Honestly, I've been doing fine without it, so why bother? Also, I have Mystic Eyes that are permanently activated so... I'm not surprised. Just... creeped out."

"You..." Her voice trailed off, her gaze narrowing in disbelief. "You would so casually dismiss something so precious? Something that I... that I stole from you?"

Vastarael tilted his head, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

"Erna, I'm not exactly a normal person, if you haven't noticed. An Aeterium's heart and eyes might be precious to someone like you, but to me, it's just an organ. I can regrow my parts. I could not do so for my heart because your kids gave me a pseudo core to compensate for it. Besides..."

He stepped closer, his eyes locking onto hers with a piercing intensity that made her breath hitch.

"If my heart's the reason you now have a physical body, then I don't see a problem. Honestly, it suits you better than it did me. And those eyes? They make you look... unforgettable."

Erna gasped, her usually steady composure unraveling under the weight of his words. A faint blush dusted her cheeks.

"Vastarael, you..."

"What? Flustered, Erna? You weren't expecting me to be so... generous?"

Her hands clenched faintly at her sides, though her crimson eyes betrayed the turmoil brewing within.

"You are... insane."

"And you're beautiful," he replied effortlessly. "Especially when you're blushing like that. I can see why your husband couldn't resist you... though he clearly didn't know how to appreciate you."

Her composure shattered entirely, a faint stammer escaping her lips as she took an involuntary step back.

"You—!"

"What? I'm just being honest. It's not every day you meet someone as stunning as you, Erna. Powerful, timeless, and with a flair for the dramatic. Honestly, I'm impressed. A Phantasm like you needs to enjoy life."

Her blush deepened and for a moment, she was utterly silent, staring at him as if trying to determine whether he was mocking her or genuinely this... disarming.

"You are unlike anyone I have ever encountered. And it is... infuriating."

"Good," he said with a wink. "Keeps things interesting."

She turned sharply away, her face flushed as she muttered something under her breath, her formal tone slipping entirely for the first time. Vastarael chuckled softly, leaning back against the wall once more, utterly unfazed.

'I think I already found someone.'