Fear Fate Future

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Warning

The following novel contains material that may be harmful or traumatic to some readers.It contains graphic descriptions of murder, violence, and other unpleasant text.

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* images in "Characters" section are AI Generated Images and serve as inspiration and may not fully represent the author's vision. *

For a better experience, I recommend opening the Characters section so you can visualize the character as accurately as possible. The descriptions here will not be very detailed.

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A 8 Hours Later

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It's slowly getting dark, though in the forest, it hardly matters…

I stand here, half-naked, exposed to this dead place.

Ereboreth's instructions were clear.

"I'll be gone for a while, so in the meantime, you need to learn how to absorb the natural energy from your surroundings into your body."

"Since this will be your primary training ground… in these dead woods. The training will be harder…"

"But more effective…"

"Once you taste your first dose of this energy… imagine storing it within yourself… where your core emotion burns. Your hatred. That hatred will reshape this energy into its own form."

I've been sitting here for about three hours.

Rot is everywhere, almost as if it's creeping closer to swallow me whole.

But there is one bright side…

It's quiet.

Pure, uninterrupted silence.

No one bothers me.

No one judges me.

Absorbing natural energy, huh?

Hmm…

Nothing. I open my eyes and think.

Trying to grasp something so elusive, something that doesn't announce its presence… It's like searching for a needle in a haystack.

That doesn't make sense.

There has to be more to it…

When we talk about natural energy, we're talking about the foundation of everything.

About what was created by God himself.

The ground beneath our feet, the air we breathe…

I'll try.

I press my hand against the earth and focus.

Faint vibrations from deep below begin to reach me.

Weak—but they're there.

Next element? Air.

Trees, grass—all of it forms its foundation.

Even the softest breeze originates from nature, so I focus on it.

Even here, in this dead forest, something remains.

Something lives.

Otherwise, I would have been dead long ago.

A deep breath.

My body relaxes.

Like I'm merging with the environment.

Like I'm becoming a part of it.

I smell the forest. The rot.

It's a twisted, deformed version of what once existed here…

But it's still nature.

Because nature isn't just lush greenery, fragrant meadows, and birdsong.

It has its dark side, too.

Rot, decay, death.

Disaster doesn't destroy nature's energy—it only reshapes it.

A deep breath.

The stench burns my nostrils, but I ignore it.

It's part of the process.

I dig my fingers deeper into the earth.

I have to understand it.

And above all… perception.

In civilization, we overlook nature.

We're consumed by useless distractions.

Worries, fears, anxieties.

But here?

Silence. Stillness. Nothingness.

Finally, I see.

This energy is everywhere.

Static, dead, dormant… except for the energy that surrounds me.

Like I am a void, pulling it in.

I press my fingers deeper.

Another breath.

And suddenly…

I feel it.

It's here.

But how do I know it's mine?

…

Maybe I do.

It's all about perception.

I already see it.

So what if I could feel it?

A smirk forms on my lips.

I'll try something.

I think of Tira.

(Tremble.)

The ground beneath my hands trembles.

The wind around me suddenly bursts in all directions.

The stench of rot vanishes for a split second.

Hmmm…

So that's how it works?

Just the thought of her, and my hatred instantly reacts with the surroundings…

And the energy pulls away from me.

But this still isn't my own power.

It's just manipulating what's already here.

That's fine.

This is just the beginning.

Ereboreth said I should imagine storing the energy within me.

My sanctuary.

My reservoir.

I think of the black marks.

They must have a purpose.

Ereboreth never explained why…

Because I was supposed to find out for myself.

Alright.

I imagine the energy flowing into the marks.

Disappearing into the void.

An endless emptiness where it waits, ready at my command.

I feel… nothing.

Maybe that's the point.

Maybe I'm supposed to feel complete emptiness.

Now, the final step.

Transformation.

I imagine the energy clashing with my core emotion.

Hatred.

It's consumed by a black, flammable liquid.

It reshapes it.

Absorbs it.

Destroys it.

This technique works.

I should aim for Ethyrion.

If I have one shot stored, I need to decide how to use it.

Ethyrion can be anything.

Fire.

Water.

Wind.

Blood.

…

Alright.

I imagine the energy flowing into my left hand.

Into a single finger.

Into my index finger.

The energy surrounds it. Waiting.

And then, I imagine it turning into blood.

I swipe my finger from left to right.

(Whoosh!)

A blood blade shoots out at incredible speed.

Slices through a tree like a hot knife through butter.

Holy shit!

The tree starts falling… straight at me!

A quick dodge to the side—

(BOOM!)

Shit… that was close.

(BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!)

More trees come crashing down.

I stare. My first spell just sliced through three more trees.

I stand there, mouth open. Completely in shock.

This…

This is the power of Ethyrion?

I immediately get up and rush to the first felled tree.

My eyes drop to the split trunk. A clean, precise cut. Left behind bloody traces… naturally.

I kneel down and reach out. My fingertips touch the liquid.

Slick.

I expected warmth, but no—it's cold. Cold as a deep wellspring.

My senses lightly connect to the blood.

I can still feel the energy inside.

It didn't dissipate completely.

Maybe… it could be reused?

I press my palm close to it.

Not touching—just hovering above.

Testing.

If my black marks can move freely across my body…

Could I command them?

Redirect the energy back into myself?

Without any effort, one of the marks begins to shift.

From my shoulder, it slithers down my arm to my palm.

Like it felt my question.

Or maybe… it sensed my desire to reclaim the energy.

The mark covers my entire palm.

The black, abyssal color starts to pulse.

The blood on the ground shivers.

Drop by drop, it begins to absorb into the mark.

A few moments later—

Nothing remains.

I raise my hand and stare at the mark.

One thought enters my mind—

A needle.

And in that instant, a tiny droplet of liquid blood emerges from the mark.

It hovers in the air…

And then instantly solidifies into a thin needle.

But… it's still liquid.

I reach out to grab it between my fingers—

And the blood immediately melts back into the abyss.

Not like this.

A solid form?

Or maybe just hardening the surface would be enough?

Alright. I'll try again.

The needle reforms.

This time, I visualize its surface slowly hardening.

And…

It works.

I reach out with my other hand and grasp the needle between my fingers.

It's solid.

Just as I intended.

I test it. Lightly bend it between my thumb and forefinger.

A little flexible—but it holds its shape.

The tip? Razor sharp.

I press it against my finger.

(SHNK.)

It pierces through flesh like nothing.

No resistance.

No pain.

Interesting.

I place the needle back onto the mark on my palm.

It immediately absorbs into it.

Hmm…

This is almost too easy.

The hardest part was just understanding the concept.

And even that felt… natural.

Is this my hidden genius?

Or… is it this power?

The marks aren't just a storage unit.

They're a tool.

And I am their mind.

Whatever I imagine…

The mark makes it real.

But there's still one thing I don't know.

How much can they store?

If they're connected to the void…

Is that void infinite?

Or can it be lost? Corrupted? Turned into something worse?

This power definitely has a downside.

If it's made from the very soul of my master…

Then on my body rests the purest essence of evil.

And pure evil… doesn't think before it acts.

So if I had to guess…

If pure natural energy, absorbed by pure evil, were to spiral out of control…

This power would consume me.

It would control me.

It would do whatever it wanted.

Everything must have balance.

But if I don't act recklessly…

I can tilt it in my favor.

I still have a lot of tests to run.

I want to know everything these marks can do.

But should I even be testing this?

At least two more experiments need to be done.

First test—interaction with the physical world.

I think about shifting the marks onto my knuckles.

(SWOOSH.)

They move instantly.

Without hesitation, they coat my fingers, the backs of my hands, and my knuckles.

Good.

I step up to a tree.

I stare at it for a moment. Thinking.

Will this have a different effect?

There's no better way to find out than just trying it.

(PUNCH.)

My fist strikes the bark. The tree shudders.

No pain. The mark absorbed it.

The force is greater… but not by much.

But… I just discovered something interesting.

A smirk tugs at my lips.

If I shift more marks onto my elbow, shoulder, and chest…

I create anchor points.

And if I use the right technique…

(PUNCH!!)

(CRACK!!!)

The tree instantly uproots.

The ground trembles.

The wind explodes in all directions.

This power…

Is monstrous.

So many possibilities.

So many fucking doors just opened for me.

Anyone else with this power…

Could storm into Ekpesu right now and wreak havoc.

And they'd succeed.

But they'd act recklessly.

This power isn't about mindless destruction.

It's about strategy.

Control.

Decision-making.

If I strengthened my physical body…

How powerful could I become?

I don't know.

But I have time to find out.

Training won't just focus on Ethyrion.

I need to strengthen my body.

And more importantly…

My knowledge.

Ereboreth will help with that.

Because the greatest power lies in understanding.

I'm starting to think differently.

I am no longer bound by fear.

By the urge to survive.

By meaningless distractions.

Now, I see clearly.

My goal is self-perfection.

Second test—sensory perception.

I think about shifting a mark over one of my eyes.

(SWOOSH.)

The closest mark moves from my chest, slithers up my neck, and settles into my left eye.

I close my right eye.

And…

WHAT THE…

FUCK IS THIS?!

The world plunges into darkness.

But not normal darkness.

I see only gray outlines of the forest.

The objects are blurry… but…

There are shadows.

Dozens… hundreds of shadows.

Crouched behind the trees.

Watching me.

Red eyes.

Their gaze is undeniable.

I stare back.

For most people, this would be terrifying.

For me…

It's fascinating.

Ghosts? Beings? Something else?

Do they matter to me?

Can I use them?

It's too early to tell.

This mark didn't enhance my sight.

It opened a new world to me.

A world that normal people can't see.

One of the figures moves.

A small figure.

Red eyes.

It walks directly toward me.

I watch it.

I am not careless.

I don't know what it can do.

It stops.

It keeps its distance.

But I see its mouth twitching.

Like it's speaking.

But I hear nothing.

The reason is clear.

The mark only covers my vision.

I see it… but my other senses remain in the real world.

So if I…

Shift a smaller part of the mark to my ears…

Yes…

"Who (who) are you? (are you?)"

I can hear him now.

(LAUGH) (SCREAM) (ROAR)

A child's voice?

A child?

I hear dozens of other whispers.

They come from all directions.

(LAUGH) (SCREAM) (ROAR)

Screams… crying…

To communicate with them…

I have to transfer my voice into their world as well.

Another part of the mark shifts onto my mouth.

(SWOOSH.)

"I am… Ashen."

I answer the shadow. The child standing before me.

The shadow stares at me for a moment.

The atmosphere is dark.

Not dangerous.

Then it steps closer.

"Ashen? (Ashen?)"

Each word echoes into the surroundings.

"A sad name… (A sad name.)"

I smirk.

"It's meant to be sad… But it's my name. The name I chose."

"Really? (Really?)"

"I am Idris! (I am Idris!)"

A lost soul.

"What is your purpose? What are you doing here? (What is your purpose? What are you doing here?)"

"Curiosity… and understanding. Will you help me?"

The shadow steps closer.

It reaches out—touches me.

"You have an entirely different body! (You have an entirely different body!)"

"You're from the living world?! (You're from the living world?!)"

I nod.

The shadow laughs.

But something about it is… wrong.

Something sinister.

Then it turns serious.

"You shouldn't be here, sir… He will be angry… (You shouldn't be here, sir… He will be angry…)"

I freeze.

A confused expression.

"Who… will be angry? God?"

I smirk.

The shadow's eyes widen.

Fear.

Then… it runs.

I understand.

I turn—

And there.

A massive black figure.

Shrouded in a violet cloak.

Holding a scythe.

Two monstrous, glowing violet eyes stare from its shadowed form.

"A HUMAN… LIVING… BEING?! (A HUMAN… LIVING… BEING?!)"

Its voice is dark. Repulsive.

"IN MY… REALM?!"

The shadows immediately scatter.

I look at it.

I don't feel fear.

I feel respect.

Power.

If this is the world of lost souls…

Then the being before me must be…

Death itself.

"Hmm…"

"Death?"

It tilts its head.

It watches me, confused.

"I KNOW… YOU!"

"YOU ARE… TIM… OTHEE…"

"RED… SON!!"

Its roar shakes the entire forest.

Even my body, in the living world, feels weak.

I shake my head.

"Wrong."

"Death should know… that Timothee Redson is dead."

"YOU ESCAPED MY… GRASP! YOU ARE NOT—"

"He is dead."

I cut it off.

"The one who was born from his corpse… is Ashen Abel."

I step forward.

Death watches me.

It doesn't retreat.

It only waits.

"Tell me… did you lurk in Redson's shadows often?"

I stop just inches away.

(SWOOSH!)

The scythe cuts through the air.

It slams into the ground right next to me.

"YOU ARE NOT… WORTHY… TO ASK!"

"YOU HAVE… NO PLACE… HERE!"

I stare at it.

Then…

A smirk forms on my lips.

And I laugh.

Uncontrollable laughter.

My voice echoes through the entire forest.

The shadows emerge.

They wait.

Death stares at me.

Confused.

Maybe it thinks I've lost my mind.

"WHAT… ARE YOU… LAUGHING AT?!"

The laughter fades.

Something else takes its place.

A serious. Deadly expression.

"Do you know who my master is?"

Death says nothing.

"My master… is none other than… Diabolus."

I say it calmly.

Death freezes immediately.

Hah…

I FEEL IT.

I feel the fear wrapping around it.

My master… MY MASTER IS SO TERRIFYING THAT EVEN DEATH FEARS HIM!

"DIA… BOLUS?"

Death's voice sounds confused. And respectful.

"YOUR… MASTER… PROMISED ME… THIS REALM!"

"HE PROMISED… HE WOULD NOT… INTERFERE… IN MY AFFAIRS!"

I nod.

"Yes. And I have no intention of interfering either."

"My presence in your realm is justified only by my curiosity."

"I seek knowledge… I want to know everything I need to know…"

I look at it.

"Honestly… I didn't plan on speaking with you."

"My old self feared you greatly. Avoided you from the beginning."

"He was scared. Terrified. So much so that fear blinded him."

"And in the end, he paid the price. But he was lucky. He was reborn into the form he should have been all along."

"And when I met you, even though I never expected to…"

"Fear was replaced by curiosity."

I take a step forward.

"And that's why I want to make a deal with you."

Death freezes.

"A DEAL?! WHAT… DEAL?!"

I smile.

"A simple deal. Your realm will remain untouchable. Unstained by outside influence."

"Truthfully… in the near future, you will have plenty of work."

"Your existence is fueled by the souls that enter your realm… If I am not mistaken?"

Silence.

Death does not speak.

But I know I'm right.

"I will bring you as many souls as you desire."

"But in return, I want information. Information from a soul. A specific soul."

Death flinches.

"WHICH… SOUL?"

"That's not important. Yet."

"Your influence suffers under the Heavens, which protect certain individuals."

"Because of their importance."

"And the only way to reverse their fate… is murder."

I lean in closer.

"That, I can guarantee."

"You give me names… and for every name, I get the information I desire."

"I will kill them for you… and you will give me what I want. Deal?"

I extend my hand.

Death hesitates.

"BUT… I MAY NOT… HAVE… THE INFORMATION… YOU NEED."

"IF YOU ASK… ABOUT SOMETHING… I DO NOT KNOW… YOU WILL BE… OUT OF LUCK."

"NOT EVERY SOUL… PASSES THROUGH… MY HANDS."

"Really?"

(SILENCE.)

"Don't forget—"

(FOOTSTEPS.)

(A voice comes from the left.)

"Don't forget, Ashen… that your presence here is too hasty."

Ereboreth.

Hmmm…

So he can reach this place too.

I look at him.

"I was quite surprised that you figured out so quickly… that your power… the Black Book… has this purpose as well."

Ereboreth steps between me and Death.

"You're acting recklessly."

I lower my gaze.

Ereboreth turns to Death.

"Mortem…"

So Death has a name?

"IS IT… TRUE… THAT DIABOLUS… HAS RETURNED?"

Silence.

Then Ereboreth answers.

"There is still time for that, Mortem."

"You don't need to worry."

"Even though he still holds a grudge against you…"

"For not coming to his aid back then."

Mortem freezes.

He stares at Ereboreth with deep respect.

(Silence.)

"But enough about the past. There's no time for that."

"This one here… Ashen is my first disciple."

"I must apologize for his intrusion into your realm."

"After all…"

"He has spent his entire life behind the wall."

"Completely cut off from the rest of the world."

"He does not yet understand that the power he wields… can be dangerous to him."

"But since he is still alive…"

Ereboreth smirks.

"I believe he has intrigued you, has he not?"

"I heard something about a deal… May I hear the details?"

Ereboreth turns to me.

I meet his gaze.

"I can send Mortem the souls he craves into his realm. In exchange, I want information."

I see his interest spark.

Ereboreth smirks, as if he already knows the answer.

"Information? Could it be… the Eon of Damnation?"

He says it knowingly.

"Is the past still devouring you?"

He smiles. He knows something that I don't yet.

As if he already understands why I want this.

"Not so much."

I answer unpredictably.

Both—Mortem and Ereboreth—pause.

"Although… maybe a little. But that's not the real reason."

I look at them.

"No one so insane would play with human lives so recklessly as Cedric Ulbridge did."

"It's obvious that the idea of the Ghetto wasn't his. It was the idea of the Patron of the Continent… Jeremiah."

Ereboreth says nothing.

He waits.

"I can only speculate about the reason… but one theory does come to mind."

I take a deep breath.

"The Ghetto was meant to be a feast for Diabolus, in case he returned."

I see it on their faces.

Surprise.

Ereboreth didn't expect me to figure it out.

But knowing that a tomb of pure evil exists in the Forgotten Forest…

What other reason would make sense?

"But if he had returned, he would not have been at full power."

"At first, the Ghetto was filled with people… maybe innocent, maybe guilty."

"But their souls weren't yet corrupted enough by evil as they are today."

"If they had been targeted by Diabolus now… he would have gained only a fraction of his power. It would have been too little. He would still be vulnerable."

"Destroying ordinary souls of ordinary people in the city… would have made him far stronger."

I look at Ereboreth.

"Evil gains its power primarily from destroying… good."

Ereboreth nods.

"Do you think that's the only reason?"

I think for a moment.

"No."

"What still bothers me… is why Diabolus was buried specifically in the Forgotten Forest."

"Why wasn't his tomb properly guarded? Why wasn't every possible threat of his awakening prevented?"

"Don't tell me the Heavens were so naive as to think he would never wake again."

Every word I speak is deliberate.

Ereboreth and Mortem exchange glances.

Then they turn back to me.

"Do you really want to know another reason?"

"Just think, Ashen…"

"Is this topic more important to you than what you truly want?"

Ereboreth's tone changes.

I sense his intention.

"The reason you survived, the reason you crossed to our side… was because you wanted to finally break free from the grasp of the Heavens."

"To act entirely on your own."

"You have succeeded."

"Lord Diabolus wants you to—"

"To start my own game and dismantle the system."

I cut him off.

"I understand."

"Everyone who played with me…"

"Now it's my turn to play with them."

"Starting with the city…"

"The continent…"

"The continents…"

"Until only the Heavens remain."

But…

"You must admit…"

"That no power I gain, no matter how perfect or dangerous, guarantees my victory."

"But knowledge does."

"Wisdom."

"The past."

I lift my gaze.

"If I want to destroy the future, I must know the past."

"That is the fundamental rule."

"If I want to strike weak points… I must know them."

"I can't act based on improvisation."

Ereboreth nods.

"You're right."

"And I had already planned to tell you all of this."

"But the main priority is that you must be physically prepared."

"The deal between you and Mortem?"

"Sure. Why not."

"But such agreements must be carefully considered."

"You just said acting on improvisation is a mistake."

"And yet, that's exactly what you're doing now."

"You're improvising."

I frown.

"Mortem could have easily killed you. And you didn't even realize it."

I think for a moment.

Maybe…

Maybe that weak idiot is still speaking through me.

"So now, you will return."

"You will focus on your main priority."

"That is Ethyrion."

"And if you want to learn about the past… I have no problem with that either."

"Then, you may return as you wish."

"For now, you should be grateful that I intervened."

"Because the deal you were about to make… would have been pointless."

"Now that you already know the answers."

Silence.

I admit it.

It was reckless.

I take a deep breath.

"True."

I withdraw the marks from my face.

The surroundings fade away.

I return to the living world.

A violet portal opens before me.

Ereboreth steps through.

He immediately heads toward me.

His steps are quick.

His eyes fixed on me.

"What the hell was that?"

A confrontational tone.

I look at him.

"I admit… I should have waited for you."

"But you can't even begin to imagine, Ereboreth… what's going on inside my head."

I set my expression.

One that radiates concern.

I clench my fists.

"Questions are constantly swarming in my mind."

"About every topic, every new thing I see."

"That world?"

"Mortem's realm?"

"Ethyrion, the marks, Diabolus, my power, EVERYTHING!"

I shout.

I tap my finger against my head.

"Thousands of questions are born there, and I simply HAVE to know the answers to everything."

"TO EVERYTHING!"

Ereboreth says nothing.

He watches me.

"Just today alone, I've learned more about how my power works than any fool on this continent ever could…"

I think about my palm.

The mark shifts instantly.

I think again.

A blood blade is born.

As a demonstration, I want to show how quickly I learn.

(SLICE.)

The tree slowly begins to fall.

"Understanding Ethyrion?"

"The only challenge was grasping the energy…"

(BOOM.)

The tree hits the ground.

Ereboreth is surprised.

But he's not shocked.

"You said our lord granted me the power of the Marks… the power of the Black Book."

"And even you were surprised by it."

"Maybe… he gave me this power precisely because of all this."

Every word carries weight.

Ereboreth tries to read me.

But he fails.

"You know, Ashen…"

"I never would have expected that in just four days, you would transform from a frightened little brat… into something so…"

He pauses.

"Dangerous."

He says it calmly. But seriously.

"You are a genius."

"And I do not use those words lightly."

I feel a hint of pride.

I smirk.

"Others take weeks to learn Ethyrion."

"You mastered it in a few hours."

"You've already figured out what your Marks are capable of to some extent."

"You just demonstrated, right before my eyes, how easily you can conjure an Ethyrion spell."

"You chose blood."

"That means you belong to the sub-branch of Sanguithyr."

"A bold choice… but a genius one."

"It allows manipulation of blood."

"But why did you choose blood?"

Ereboreth's gaze is curious.

I think.

But the answer is clear.

"Every living being has blood."

"Humans, animals… maybe even the angels themselves."

"If I had to guess, I could do far greater things with it than with simple fire or water."

Ereboreth raises an eyebrow.

"Exactly…"

"And this is what I'm talking about."

"You suddenly think about everything in ways no one else does."

"This fascinates me."

"If I had asked you the same question yesterday—maybe the day before—you would have given a completely different answer."

"Don't tell me your fear blinded you so much… that it silenced your brilliant mind and reduced you to nothing but a pathetic plaything, struggling to survive."

He studies me.

He examines me.

"That's what puzzles me."

"Were you really that afraid of death?"

I respond immediately.

"I am not afraid of death… You're mistaking me for—"

"And another thing…"

"Your name change."

"Why?"

He cuts me off.

But I already know the answer.

"At first, it was just anger."

"But now that I think about it…"

"It was the right decision. And it had a purpose."

"I won't walk back into the city with the power of Ethyrion and the Black Book, only to introduce myself with my old name…"

"It would raise a lot of questions…"

A lot of questions.

And later… they might even find the answers.

I look at Ereboreth.

"We wouldn't want anyone to find out that our Lord might be trying to return."

I say it without thinking.

Ereboreth freezes.

He steps closer.

He watches me.

Up close.

Why?

Is he searching for the reason behind my genius?

"Hmm…"

"I understand."

"One of your marks is in your brain…"

I freeze.

Shock.

So… I'm not a genius?

Or what does this mean?

"So everything—"

"No…"

"You are a genius."

"But the mark significantly enhances your intelligence."

"It gives you information, knowledge… and most importantly, better reasoning."

"The cause of your pain wasn't the marks on your body…"

"It was the mark on your brain."

Ereboreth watches me.

He waits for me to realize it.

And it… makes sense.

"I see."

"The mark was feeding me information at an overwhelming speed—information my brain initially couldn't process."

"It struggled to accept it."

"It's like… prying open a child's skull."

"Taking its young, undeveloped brain… and replacing it with the brain of a powerful being."

"Even if it were physically possible, the contents of that brain would be lethal to the child."

I say it precisely.

Ereboreth nods.

"But why would it do this? Without any command?"

Ereboreth thinks.

But the answer comes immediately.

"Because you were curious."

"The Black Book felt your overwhelming curiosity."

"And since it must fulfill your desires and commands… it chose to help you."

Ereboreth pauses.

Silence.

"It didn't just decide to give you the information it already knew…"

"It decided to completely rewrite your way of thinking."

"So much so that you would figure out the answers on your own."

I see the surprise on his face.

"That is… fascinating."

Ereboreth says, almost in awe.

Like for a brief moment, he forgot to breathe.

He didn't know this?

"That's why I couldn't enter your mind."

"The mark protects you from outside intruders."

He says it more to himself than to me.

"And you didn't know what the Black Book was capable of?"

I ask calmly.

But I am curious.

Ereboreth smirks.

He looks at me.

"I think you might already know the answer."

"But I'll tell you anyway…"

I stay silent.

I listen.

"The Black Book was created in a fit of rage by our Lord."

"It was meant as a safeguard. To prevent his complete annihilation."

"He wrote the Black Book…"

"And poured a great portion of his power into it."

"In haste."

"Because immediately after writing it, the Archangels bound him in chains."

"And created a crypt for him."

"Since they couldn't destroy the book…"

"Nor manipulate it…"

"They buried it alongside our Lord."

Ereboreth finishes.

But I can sense something is missing.

"And since Lord Diabolus sensed my endless curiosity…"

"He chose to pass the book—and its contents—to me."

"Because a curious mind is far more dangerous than someone who merely follows orders and cares for nothing else."

Ereboreth nods immediately.

"I didn't become omniscient."

"But I became a much better thinker. I understand."

And just like that, another question forms in my mind.

"So this ability to redirect the marks wasn't due to my strong will."

"But because of the mark surrounding my brain."

I close my eyes.

I organize my thoughts.

"That's why I could master this power so quickly."

"And here I was, thinking everything was just too easy."

I smirk at Ereboreth.

Ereboreth looks at me.

"This changes things, Timo—"

He stops himself.

"My apologies… Ashen."

He's still not used to it.

I can see it.

"I had planned for your training to last decades."

Shock.

Decades?

I would have gone insane…

"And now?"

I ask.

I guess maybe two to four years.

"At this rate… maybe two? Three years."

"I'm preparing the ground for you in Ekpesu, just so you know."

Immediately, one word flashes in my mind.

Revolution.

"How is the revolution progressing?"

I ask.

My voice is calm but curious.

Ereboreth smirks.

"So far… in our favor."

"If everything goes as I've planned…"

"You will return to Ekpesu as exactly the person I need you to be."

"So… Alandr, or Gideon?"

Ereboreth winks.

"Wait and see…"

Ah…

This mind. This power.

I feel like laughing.

Dancing.

What does this remind me of?

This sentence…

This feeling of joy…

I felt it when I finally got food.

A rat.

A roasted, disgusting rat!

(LAUGH.)

I laugh.

At first, softly.

Then chaotically.

Freely.

(LAUGH!)

I LAUGH AT IT…

IT'S SO FUNNY!

SO IRONIC.

SO BEAUTIFUL, WHEN I REALIZE…

HOW MUCH JOY CAN BLIND A PERSON!!

(LAUGH!!)

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While Ashen laughs at fate's cruel joke…

Only one being in this world understands the true threat that Ashen has become.

Ereboreth.

He watches Ashen…

Carefully. Almost fearfully.

And in that moment, he realizes one thing.

That he was wrong.

Terribly wrong.

He wanted to keep Timo—Ashen—under his control.

He wanted him to be just a tool.

A plaything.

Someone to toy with.

Someone who obeyed orders.

Who followed his will.

But no.

He did not create a toy.

He created…

A monster.

And maybe…

Maybe he would never be able to control him the way he intended.

And in that moment, Ereboreth had one more crucial question.

Did Diabolus expect this?

Did Diabolus know this?

Did Diabolus… WANT this?

To that question…

He had no answer.

For perhaps the first time in his life…

He found no answer.

To be continued...

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