I turned to Kyoi lying on the ground. He was still breathing—barely—but unconscious. Panic stabbed through me. Then I faced Devian, the knife gleaming in his hand. My eyes widened.
"Kill him, kill him, kill him!!"
He stepped toward me. Before he could strike, I grabbed his wrist—tight—forcing the blade to his own chest. What the hell was he planning? His gaze flickered with something unhinged. I stopped resisting.
"Tell me!" I shouted.
He only laughed. His fist cracked against my face, and before I could recover, he slammed a chair into me. Pain exploded, sharp and electric. I hit the floor, groaning.
"The student from RU, Hanna Cruz, represents nemesis—"Another blow."The death of one of the twins represents the two sides inside you—sides that cannot coexist. One must die… or become one."
He yanked me up by my collar and hurled me across the room.
"Mina Wang represents the truth untold. Bravery turned to fear."
He stalked toward me.
"And Kyoi Vergel," he said with a cruel smile, "represents friendship and bond. And it won't last. Nothing does."
He slapped me hard, then raised his hand again.
"And your mother—and your birth—represent the love and tranquility of your childhood."
Before he could strike, I snapped. I slammed my fist into his face, staggering him. I pushed myself to my feet and spat blood onto the floor.
"You deserve to die!"
I punched him again, this time breaking his nose. Blood streamed down his face. He grunted, but I didn't stop. I kept hitting him—again, again—while tears rolled down my cheeks. Rage burned, but something else trembled beneath it. Something I didn't understand.
I couldn't read him. My own eyes glowed red—just likes his.
"End him!" the voice snarled inside me.
I'm trying!
But then—mother's humming drifted through the air. Everything slowed. Even time knelt in silence. Dust floated gently through the moonlight, drifting across Devian's bleeding face like soft, pale feathers.
"…there may be a dichotomy between you and the enemies you make, but know that they are only humans, we all breathe the same air… we act according to the beat of our desires…"
My mother's voice. Her storybook. The lullaby of peace she once read to me.
The world doesn't revolve around us. It does not have to end in the trenches where pain and suffering drown without the chance of acceptance or lesson. Suffering can feel like a battlefield, but it isn't the only place the story can end. Darkness can hold what we bury, but it doesn't swallow everything unless we let it.
I looked into Devian's eyes—my eyes in his. My reflection drowned in them. His gaze was hellfire, but the flames danced gracefully, like he found calmness and peace only through chaos.