"Echoes of Pain"

" The world we all live, it's nothing rather than just a beautiful crafted lie of human emotions and expectations.. You know Dear.. What is the most majestic thing exists in this world..? That is the beautiful harmomy of death...!"

A lone figure sat upon a throne of obsidian and silver, bathed in the dim glow of violet lanterns. The scent of aged parchment and wine filled the vast chamber, where towering bookshelves stretched endlessly into the shadows.

Dressed in a white and purple formal coat, he leaned back, fingers tracing the spine of an ancient tome. A violet gemstone glimmered on his left ear piercing, catching the candlelight as he turned a page with deliberate slowness.

Beside him, a half-filled wine glass rested on the table, the dark liquid swirling gently—undisturbed, untouched.

Then—

A ripple in the air.

Space twisted, and from the distortion, a slow, mocking voice echoed through the chamber—

Then—a voice echoed through the chamber, smooth yet laced with amusement.

"Oh, my dear… my dear Majesty… as you said, there were two Primordials."

The silence cracked.

A slow, deliberate chuckle followed—deep, rich, almost musical.

The lone figure sat upon his throne, a relaxed elegance in his posture. His coat, a seamless blend of royal white and deep violet, draped over the armrest like flowing silk. His left ear shimmered, adorned with a single gemstone, catching the dim candlelight.

A wine glass swirled lazily in his hand, the crimson liquid tracing delicate patterns against the glass.

"The beauty of death is majestic, dear… fantastical."

He raised the glass, watching the liquid ripple before letting it touch his lips.

"Harlequin… learn the majestic beauty of words." His golden eyes flickered toward the jester who had just arrived, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

A page turned. The soft rustle of parchment echoed in the vast chamber.

"Don't shout so much."

And with that, he returned to his book, as if the world outside his throne was of little consequence.

A sudden breeze slithered through the chamber.

The book in his hand rustled, its pages shifting as if whispering secrets of forgotten times. A single page, caught in the unseen wind, flipped open, its inked words burning with an ominous glow.

"The Fake God… Azarel."

Silence reigned once more.

Then—a chuckle.

"Tick-tock, dear…"

Harlequin grinned, his fingers twirling through the air as the golden cards circled him like restless phantoms.

"Playtime is over…? Never."

The battlefield lay in eerie silence. The dark clouds that once veiled the sky slowly drifted away, revealing the moon's silver glow once more.

Life is like the sky—limitless. But sometimes, black clouds cover its vastness. And yet, believe me, they too are beautiful. Because when they disappear… the sky shines again, brighter than before.

The two girls lay unconscious, their bodies motionless against the cold ground. Prayas was still unresponsive, his elder brother Aryan sitting beside him, his fists clenched, his heart weighed down by an unbearable grief.

His eyes burned—not just with sorrow, but with despair.

And then, his voice broke the silence.

"Just because of people like you…!"

Aryan screamed, his bloodshot eyes locked onto Vasudev, who stood a few feet away, gripping his sword tightly. The weight of everything that had happened still clung to him.

A single drop of blood trickled down from Aryan's eye.

"They were right…" he whispered, his voice trembling. "This world only belongs to the powerful. But what about us? What about those of us who were born weak?!"

His knuckles turned white as he struck the ground in frustration.

"If only..If only I had more powers...!"

His voice broke. His body trembled. His vision blurred with unshed tears.

"It's all because of you demons ..!" He spat,gripping a tattered diary in his hands .

"Who gave you the right to take everything from us ? Who gave you the right to decide who lives and who dies ?! I curse you ! I curse every last one of you -!"

SMACK!

A sharp sound cut through the night.

Divya stood before him, eyes blazing with fury, her palm still raised from the slap she had just delivered.

"You think you know everything, don't you?" she snapped. "You think you understand demons? Do you even know what we've done to keep you all alive?!"

Her voice cracked with anger, but Aryan's glare only hardened.

"Don't lie to me," he snarled. "I know exactly what kind of monsters you are!"

Vasudev sighed, stepping forward. "That's enough, both of you—"

"No, let him speak," Divya interrupted, her voice trembling with something deeper than anger.

Aryan took a step closer, his breath ragged. "You creatures who don't even understand what love is… who don't even know what family means… how could you possibly understand what it feels like to lose everything?!"

A silence followed.

Divya's lips parted slightly—just enough for Vasudev to see the emotions flickering beneath her usual composed exterior.

Her fists clenched at her sides.

"Love… you say?"

Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Family… you say?"

Her hands trembled. Her shoulders tensed.

Then, without another word—she turned and ran.

Her footsteps barely made a sound, but the air itself felt heavier in her absence.

Vasudev watched her disappear into the night, the soft glow of the moon casting shadows over her fading form.

"You shouldn't have said that."

His voice was calm. Not angry. Not accusing. Just… calm.

But Aryan wasn't having it.

"Of course you would say that !"he snapped

"People like you ,People like her - You'll never understand what it feels like to be truly alone !"

For a moment, Vasudev didn't respond.

Then, slowly—he smiled.

Not a smirk. Not amusement.

Just a quiet, tired smile.

"Loneliness, you say?"

The wind blew gently, carrying away his words into the night.

"Dreams… they shatter into fragments.

Sometimes, they remain nothing more than a fleeting wish, like a daydream fading into reality.

And sometimes… they burn away the darkness, like the first light of the sun.

But think about it—how much must the sun endure, just to shine?"

As the cold breeze whispered through the trees, Vasudev let out a sigh. He tossed his sword aside and sat beneath a tree, resting his back against its rough bark.

"Family ,you say ? "

A chuckle escaped his lips, empty and bitter.

"What a joke,

Whenever I see others, I realize how much it truly means.

And yet, here I am, laughing at something I'll never have.

Living with a lie in my heart, pretending it doesn't matter.

Not just me—everyone lives inside their own dreams.

We all do.

I know…

Every time I try to break free from this dream, it will hurt.

But you know what?

I don't mind the pain.

Because every time this dream shatters,

I will build it again—whether there's anything left… or nothing at all.

If staying in this dream means suffering…

Then I will embrace this pain, with a smile.

"The past is never truly gone… and neither is the pain."