When the cards made contact, each chosen prisoner froze in place, their eyes unfocused as if falling into a trance.
Then the Wolf ignited.
A violent silver glow erupted from his body.
It was brighter than anyone else's.
For a brief heartbeat, the entire chamber was illuminated.
Bill's eye widened.
He spun his top hat on his finger, bouncing excitedly.
"OHOHOHOHO!"
He clapped gleefully.
"The Hero Hunter does not disappoint!"
The Beast and the Old Man were next.
Their bodies were swallowed in deep ink-black light that seemed to devour the room's brightness like miniature black holes.
Dark and heavy.
Majestic.
Their auras dwarfed the other prisoners, second only to the Wolf's silver brilliance.
Yet two figures remained untouched.
Rein.
Sato.
The white cards hovered inches from their chests.
They did not strike.
They simply… waited.
The way they floated felt different from the other cards.
Not aggressive or predatory.
Gentle.
They trembled softly, radiating a quiet warmth, as if asking permission.
Rein stared at the card before him.
He could feel its intent.
Not words or thoughts.
A question.
Will you carry this burden?
The burden of the hero.
The burden of the strongest.
The burden of isolation.
The air grew still.
Rein reached forward with a self deprecating smile across his face.
"Ive already lived this way for 19 years what's a century more."
His fingers brushed the card.
For a brief moment—
It felt like looking into a mirror.
The card dissolved instantly into pure white light and merged with his body.
Sato stood beside him, unusually quiet.
His usual grin was gone.
For once, he wasn't joking.
The glow of the card reflected in his eyes.
He looked at Rein, now glowing brilliantly, and something flickered across his expression.
Not humor or bravado.
Something else.
Sato exhaled slowly.
"...Well."
He forced a crooked smile.
"YOLO, I guess."
He reached forward and touched the card.
The light swallowed him.
Within seconds every card had vanished.
Bill blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Then his expression twisted into confusion.
"Hold on."
His eye narrowed.
"Why are there two people compatible with a Hero Template?!"
He pointed wildly at them.
"Damn it! The justice system sucks!"
He began pacing through the air.
"There's always an unreliable batch like this!"
He summoned a massive glowing scroll that unfurled dramatically.
"Let's see here…"
His eye darted across the contract text.
"Hero templates must be deployed exclusively to morally aligned candidates, blah blah blah, cosmic arbitration clause, ugh."
Bill groaned.
"Oh GREAT."
"If this violates the contract that annoying woman is going to cut me in half again."
He scratched his head.
"I'll have to balance the hero batch with some villains… fudge the numbers… bend the narrative arc a little…"
Then Sato ignited.
His aura exploded outward in chaotic bursts of light.
It wasn't as pure as the wolf's glow.
But it was powerful.
Wild.
Unstable.
Holy and completely unhinged at the same time.
Bill squinted at him.
Viewing his template.
"…The Kitkat."
Then he scoffed.
"Carried by a single ability."
He waved dismissively.
Then Rein's power erupted.
A blinding white light exploded from his body.
Not fragile or gentle.
It burned far hotter than the core of a star.
Bill froze.
His body twitched violently.
"…No."
"…No no no no—"
His color shifted.
Yellow turned deep crimson.
"DAMN IT!"
His voice thundered through the chamber.
"What are the chances he gets HER counterpart?!"
For a moment Bill looked genuinely furious.
Then he paused.
His eye widened.
"…Wait."
His yellow hue returned.
A slow grin crept across his face.
"Oh."
"Oh this might actually be amazing."
He rubbed his hands together excitedly.
"Even if it's not direct revenge… he should still have that woman's obnoxious personality."
Bill chuckled darkly.
"If I break him…"
"That'll be great stress relief."
He forced himself to calm down.
"Whatever."
He turned toward the Wolf.
"There are still these three."
His eye gleamed with anticipation.
"I'm counting on you."
"Make him suffer."
He leaned closer.
"If not…"
"I might have to intervene."
The chamber began dissolving.
Bodies broke apart into glowing particles.
Bill watched as they disintegrated.
"Well little Stanny lee…"
He smirked.
"I hope you won't copyright me for borrowing one of your infinite universes."
He shrugged.
"A chaos god's gotta live life to the fullest."
Then he whispered an incantation.
".wena evil ew seirofmem wen dna hself wen ot gninnigeb txen eht tub si luos eht ,nruter ew sehs a ot ,nrob era ew sehs a morF."
The light pulsed.
And they vanished.
All twenty-nine death row prisoners.
Erased from that reality.
***
Rein's body, which had previously broken down on a molecular level, was now rebuilding itself. His head reformed first.
He felt it vividly, every vibration as his atoms snapped back into place. The numb emptiness of nonexistence faded, gradually replaced by sensation. His limbs ached with returning strength.
His thoughts were sluggish and heavy. Slowly, he closed his fists.
Leather wrapped snugly around his fingers.
Leather?
Confused, he opened his eyes.
His gaze traced down to his hands.
Thick black gloves.
Blinking slowly, his eyes moved further down. His chest was no longer clad in the orange prison jumpsuit. Instead, a sharp black dress shirt hugged his frame, tucked neatly into white trousers.
His legs trembled as he looked down at polished black shoes with thick white soles.
"What…?"
He couldn't stop staring.
Then a shimmer of light flickered across his chest.
Something was forming.
Growing in real time.
A long white coat wrapped around him, elongating across his frame as if woven from light itself. Perfectly tailored. The front cut away in a dramatic sweep, the cuffs rolled, the collar lined with frills threaded with lilac.
On his left sleeve, a golden engraving began to glow.
Violet light bled into the metal thread, curling and meshing through the gold. A crest slowly formed. Sharp. Angular. Unmistakably draconic, with layered horns and piercing eyes.
The supernatural glow shimmered once more, then vanished, leaving the emblem etched into the fabric.
Something else began forming at his waist, but he had no time to focus on it.
Where was he?
Rein looked around, his breath shallow.
The confusion had only just begun.
He stood in a white void.
Standing on nothing.
Alive within nonexistence.
The moment the thought crossed his mind, something slammed into him.
An overwhelming surge of information exploded inside his skull like a bomb.
Pain erupted behind his eyes as memories that were not his flooded his mind.
Names.
Faces.
Emotions.
Laughter.
Grief.
Everything.
He staggered, eyes wide in agony.
His body was resilient, but it was never meant to withstand something like this. It felt like two minds were being forced into a single skull.
Who was he?
Rein.
No—
Reinhard.
Reinhard van Astrea.
The Sword Saint.
The strongest man alive.
A knight of the Royal Guard.
No… that's wrong.
Or is it?
His thoughts clashed violently as if two lives were attempting to exist at once.
Memories stacked over each other like a corrupted program running two scripts simultaneously.
He practiced swordsmanship from the age of five, his father guiding him with a proud smile.
Rein was a diligent student, praised by loving parents and an adorable younger sister.
Rein remembered the day he stood up to protect her.
Reinhard remembered the day he made a wish.
A wish to protect his family.
The world answered.
It granted him the Divine Protection of the Sword Saint, the same blessing once held by his grandmother, Theresia van Astrea.
Reinhard remembered being told she was killed by the White Whale.
Rein remembered being told his grandmother died in a car crash.
Reinhard remembered his grandfather's tears as he blamed him for her death.
Rein remembered his grandfather screaming, striking him in grief.
In both memories the words were the same.
"You took her away from me."
Another collision of memories followed.
Reinhard's father, once a proud knight, reduced to bitterness and alcohol, calling him a monster.
Rein's father returning home with six packs of beer, ignoring his son's existence.
Reinhard remembered watching over his mother, trapped in endless sleep by a curse.
Rein remembered wires and beeping machines keeping his mother alive in a sterile hospital room.
Reinhard remembered being forcibly conscripted into the Royal Knights, treated as nothing more than a weapon.
Rein remembered working three jobs, fists bloodied from illegal fights to pay his mother's hospital bills and secure his sister's future.
Smashed together.
Shattered.
Rebuilt.
Repeating.
Two souls.
Two pasts.
One body.
(As a reward due to high compatibility, additional memories will be integrated to achieve perfect mental synchronization.)
Then, like a glitch, two memories overlapped.
One belonged to Rein.
He stood over the lifeless bodies of his friend and sister, horror swallowing his mind as his purpose collapsed into nothing.
A crimson tear slid down his cheek.
I will kill them all.
The ones who did this.
The other memory belonged to Reinhard.
And yet… not quite.
It was as if a different Reinhard's past had been forced into his soul.
All Reinhard could see was fire.
He stood atop a hill overlooking a city consumed by flames. Buildings collapsed as screams echoed through the inferno.
Children cried for their parents.
Parents cried for their children.
Men shouted for their wives.
Women screamed for their husbands.
Hell.
And before him stood a man.
His face blurred, as though reality itself refused to reveal him.
Yet his voice was painfully familiar.
"Reinhard van Astreaaa…"
For the first time in his life, Reinhard felt fury.
Not the quiet resolve of duty.
Not the cold resolve of justice.
Fury.
It burned hotter than the inferno behind him.
Reinhard wanted to destroy the man before him.
The one responsible for the deaths of millions.
The ones he was meant to protect.
His sky-blue eyes hardened.
"It seems introductions won't be necessary."
His voice remained calm.
"And I have nothing to say to you."
The blurred man laughed.
"So the Sword Saint can hate someone after all."
Reinhard paused.
"It appears I can."
A quiet breath escaped him.
"That surprises me as well."
The man grinned wider.
"So you found a new you. Congratulations."
"Happy birthday, Reinhard."
Reinhard's gaze did not waver.
"Today is not the day of my birth."
A faint glint of steel entered his voice.
"But it will be the day of your death."
The man snorted.
"Don't make me laugh."
"Sword Saint. Sword of the Kingdom."
"You're the knight who protects Lugunica."
His arms spread toward the burning city.
"Tell me something, hero."
"Did you protect any of them?"
Flames roared in the background.
"This is my gift to you."
"A trap I built to kill you."
"To kill me?"
The man laughed hysterically.
"How many times do you think I've tried?"
"Tens?"
"Hundreds?"
"Thousands of times I've faced you!"
Reinhard stiffened.
The man jabbed a finger toward him.
"I'm killing who you are as a knight."
"I'm dragging that ridiculous title of yours into the dirt."
"Stomping on it."
"Spitting on it."
Reinhard's voice grew quiet.
"All of this… only for that?"
"Only for that?" the man repeated.
"Yeah."
"Only for that."
"I used the lives of everyone in this kingdom…"
"…just to drag you down to earth."
Reinhard stared at him in disbelief.
"You're a hero, Reinhard."
The man's voice twisted with mania.
"I can't kill you."
"But I can kill a hero."
His expression slowly collapsed.
"If a god can't bleed…"
His voice broke.
"Then make him cry."
Tears streamed down his face.
"Why are you so strong?"
"Why are you so strong that the only way to reach you…"
"…was to let them die?"
His voice trembled.
"I wish I'd been like you."
"I wish I'd been honest like you."
"I wish I'd been strong enough to save everyone."
His expression twisted.
"I envy you."
"I despise you."
"I wanted to be you, Reinhard."
Reinhard could only answer honestly.
"I… don't understand you."
The man began sobbing like a child.
"I hate you."
"I hate you so much."
At last the blur faded.
Subaru Natsuki.
The man who burned the world.
The Witch Cult's Sin Archbishop of Pride.
His face twisted into a broken smile.
"I'm jealous…"
"Jealous of you."
"REINHARD VAN ASTREA."