Beyond the Battlefield

(Henry's POV)

The cold air brushed against my skin as I walked through the quiet streets of Oslo, heading back to my art gallery.

My boots echoed against the pavement, but my mind was elsewhere.

I had spent weeks hunting, fighting, killing.

Every battle made me stronger.

Every enemy I defeated pushed me closer to Project Hades.

But now?

Now, I was thinking about something else.

What else can I do… besides fighting?

I had spent two lifetimes as a warrior.

The Divine Executioner.

The man who cut down gods and demons alike.

But before all that…

I was an artist.

I glanced down at my hands. Hands that had painted masterpieces.

Hands that had once held brushes instead of swords.

Could I still create something?

Could I still build, instead of just destroying?

I sighed, rolling my shoulders. "Guess I'll find out."

Tonight, I wasn't a warrior.

I wasn't an Executioner.

Tonight… I was Liberty.

As I walked through the dimly lit streets, the last person I expected to see appeared before me.

Oberan.

The man who once thought he could replace me.

The man who slept with my wife, flaunting it like a trophy.

Now?

Now, he looked like a broken version of himself.

His once pristine designer suit was wrinkled and stained, his hair disheveled, dark circles under his sunken eyes.

The arrogance?

The smug confidence?

Gone.

His hands trembled as he lit a cigarette, only to drop it as he saw me.

His body stiffened. His face twisted with something between fear and disbelief.

"H-Henry…?" His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

I smirked, tilting my head. "Wrong name, buddy. It's Liberty."

His jaw clenched, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed nervously.

I took a step closer, watching as he instinctively took a step back.

He was afraid.

Good.

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Damn, Oberan. You look worse than I thought."

His lips pressed together, trying to gather what was left of his shattered ego.

"Y-You think this is funny!?" His voice cracked as he tried to glare at me. "She… she ruined me!"

I raised an eyebrow. "She?"

His hands shook, his breath ragged. "Katerina!"

Ah.

So that's how this played out.

The woman he betrayed me for… betrayed him too.

I leaned against a nearby lamppost, casually lighting my own cigarette.

"Let me guess." I exhaled slowly, watching the smoke swirl into the night air. "You thought you were special? Thought she'd never turn on you?"

Oberan's fists clenched. "She promised me! She said she loved me!"

I laughed. "Yeah? And you actually believed her?"

His face twisted in anger, but there was nothing behind it.

No fire.

No strength.

Just a man who lost everything.

I stepped closer, lowering my voice. "How does it feel?"

His breathing hitched.

I could see it. The realization.

He had become what I once was.

A pathetic man left in the dirt—tossed aside by the same woman he thought he had won.

I smirked. "Not fun being on the other side, huh?"

Oberan didn't respond.

He just stood there, shaking.

Weak. Miserable.

Exactly how I wanted him to be.

I flicked my cigarette onto the pavement, stepping past him without a second glance.

"Enjoy your karma, Oberan."

And just like that—

I left him behind. I didn't look back.

Oberan was nothing to me now—just a ghost of my past, suffering the same fate he once helped orchestrate.

Katerina had ruined him, just like she tried to ruin me.

And now?

He was nothing.

The streets were quiet as I walked back toward my art gallery, the encounter already fading from my mind.

Because, unlike him—

I had moved forward.

I had power.

I had purpose.

And while he was left rotting in regret…

I had an entire future waiting for me.

I exhaled, cracking my knuckles as I spoke softly to myself.

"One less problem to worry about."

Now, it was time to focus on something that actually mattered.

Like my next masterpiece.

Or my next battle.

Either way—I was ready.

As I walked through the quiet streets, my mind drifted toward something I had been ignoring for too long.

Why are Samuel and I here?

Not just in this world—but in this specific reality.

We were reincarnated into the stories we hated the most.

The worlds we once mocked, cursed, and despised.

And somehow, those different stories… existed in the same universe.

That shouldn't be possible.

Stories aren't supposed to mix.

So why was I living in a reality where my past and Samuel's past intertwined?

I clenched my jaw.

This isn't normal.

The System had given us powers, quests, and a goal—

But it had never answered the real question.

What's the reason behind our third life?

Did someone place us here?

Was it a mistake?

Or was this part of something bigger?

I exhaled, my golden eyes narrowing.

If there was a purpose to all this—

I was going to find out.

No matter what it took.