The darkness didn't swallow him this time.
Instead, a faint light opened behind his eyelids.
He stood in a small room. Two people sat across from him at a narrow table. One was a woman with a calm tone. The other, a man with sharper questions.
"State your name," the man said.
Lucian looked down at his own trembling hands. "Eiden Cross."
"And your purpose?" the woman asked gently.
He hesitated. "To live… I guess."
"That's not enough," the man replied. "What drives you?"
Lucian clenched his jaw. "My brothers."
The woman leaned forward. "And what will you do when you lose something so dear?"
Lucian stiffened. "I won't let that happen."
The man pressed, "But if it does?"
He paused. "…Then I'll keep moving."
The woman smiled faintly. "Good. Then answer one last question."
Lucian looked up.
"What do you fear most?"
He opened his mouth—
Everything shattered.
---
He gasped awake, legs already moving again. Guinevere held his wrist tightly, pulling him through the forest path.
"Lucian, what's wrong? You slowed down for a moment."
He blinked fast. What did I just see…? A memory? A dream? A test?
His heart raced, but he forced his thoughts into order.
Was that real? From my past? Or something tied to this system?
He didn't know yet.
Guinevere tugged his sleeve. "Where are we going now?"
Lucian looked ahead. North was blocked by the soldiers. East had the inescapable ravine. South was too ???. West…
He exhaled. "West."
She stared at him, surprised. "Why west?"
He glanced at her once and answered with a single word. "Path."
She blinked. "Path…?"
"You can decode it," he said. No time for long explanations. If she thought about their surroundings, the enemy's direction, and the land's shape, she could understand.
Guinevere didn't ask more. She nodded slowly, trusting him again.
Lucian turned, guiding her down a narrow slope. The forest thickened, branches clustering together like a natural shield. Each step took them farther from the knights' direct line of pursuit.
They moved quickly, feet pounding on the soft dirt.
South was waiting beyond the bend… but only after they shifted west first.
Lucian breathed out, steady and focused.
They pushed west only long enough to break the knights' line of pursuit. Then Lucian changed direction.
"South," he said.
Guinevere didn't question it this time. She simply followed, her breathing sharp, her steps light even with exhaustion weighing on her. The forest shifted as they moved, with denser foliage, uneven ground, and a steady descent.
Lucian scanned every tree, every bend, as if comparing it to something he once knew.
South leads back to the city… but that's the point.
He forced himself to remember. This body's memories were faint and scattered, but they existed. And he dug through them while running.
A face surfaced.
A man with short gray hair.
A dirty tunic.
A quiet smile hidden behind tired eyes.
Elric.
He had been a stable worker near the city gates. The old owner of this body had helped him once—just a small thing like dropped crate. But Elric treated kindness like treasure. He said, "If you ever need a way out, I'll show you a door no one else sees."
At the time, it meant nothing. Now, it meant everything.
If they reached the southern edge and found him… they might have a chance.
We just have to get there alive.
Lucian checked the sound behind them. The knights were still far, but not far enough. The forest echoed with the faint clatter of metal.
After several more minutes of running, he stopped abruptly.
"Turn right," Lucian said.
Guinevere skidded to a halt. "Why? West was—"
He didn't answer with words.
He crouched, grabbed a fallen stick, and wrote on the dirt:
They are listening.
Guinevere's eyes widened.
Lucian held a finger to his lips.
She nodded silently.
They resumed running, but slower, more careful with every step. Lucian kept his voice low. "Guinevere… can you answer something?"
She stayed close beside him. "If it's something I know."
"What did they do to you? Before you escaped."
Her breath faltered for a moment. She didn't stop running, but her shoulders tightened.
"They kept me locked in a tower… hidden behind the old hall. The door was sealed with no windows. They never spoke to me unless they wanted something."
Lucian glanced at her. Her tone was calm.
"What did they want?"
"Submission," she said. "If I bowed to them… if I admitted they deserved the throne more than I did… they said they would stop."
"Did you?" Lucian asked.
"No." Her voice didn't rise. "I didn't kneel."
Lucian felt something harden in his chest.
She continued. "They hated Father's affection, so they broke everything he left behind." Her eyes lowered. "They started with me."
He stayed silent, matching her pace. The forest grew thicker, branches slapping their clothes, roots slipping under their feet.
The air felt heavier.
Lucian asked quietly, "How long were you there?"
"Years."
He clenched his jaw. Years… and she still talks like this.
Guinevere inhaled slowly. "The worst part wasn't the pain. It was the silence. They made sure I never forgot I was alone."
Lucian didn't notice he tightened his grip on her hand. She looked at him briefly, surprised, but didn't pull away.
He said nothing—words weren't enough.
They ran farther south. But then, Lucian felt the noises of hooves.
They're near...
Lucian sat on a jagged rock, trying to catch his breath. The forest around him was quiet, but he could hear the distant sound of hooves.
His eyes scanned the clearing. A figure appeared, mounted and tall. Behind him, the knights stayed far enough to give some space, but close enough to strike if needed.
The commander dismounted slowly, hands on his hips. His eyes narrowed at Lucian.
"Where is she?" he demanded.
Lucian looked up lazily, leaning back.
"Guinevere?" He shrugged.
"We parted ways."
The commander frowned. "Parted ways? You mean you separated from your lady while the enemy is near?"
Lucian's lips twitched into a small smirk. "Seems like it. Survival first, right?"
The commander's eyes flickered, suspicion creeping in. "And the conversation I overheard earlier?"
"You mean the whispers in your head, the plans you thought you hid?"
Lucian leaned forward, mocking.
"Funny thing… it was only me all along."
The commander froze. His hand tightened on his sword. "Only… you?"
"Yes," Lucian said flatly, letting the words hang in the air. "All that plotting, all that control—it was just me listening."
The commander's mouth opened, then closed. "Eiden…" he said carefully, voice low.
"No. Lucian. Call me Lucian."
The commander's eyes sharpened. "Lucian… so you know. You know we've been controlling you."
Lucian leaned back on the rock again, calm. "Of course. Guinevere is probably leaving for the next country. Lillypose."
The commander's frown deepened. "How… how did you know that?"
Lucian just shrugged. "A secret."
Inside, he understood exactly how. The flashback he saw earlier—questions from two people, the way the knights always knew their moves—it all pointed to control.
Most importantly, the ravine that didn't fall on the second attempt confirmed it. The first collapse wasn't random. The rocks were made to fall only if he entered it in the right way.
Someone had planned it into his mind before meeting Guinevere to go there.
Someone had been nudging him, controlling his path without his conscious knowledge.
He had been manipulated to go there.
The commander's jaw tightened. "And the man named Elric? The one who could save you? Where is he?"
Lucian's smile returned.
"That person doesn't exist."
The commander's eyes widened. "What—"
Lucian interrupted, calm. "I just created that thought. I knew you were listening. Every idea, every hope, it was all yours to hear."
The commander took a slow step back, realizing how deep the manipulation went. Lucian had turned their own strategy against them, pretending to trust it while quietly calculating everything.
Lucian watched him carefully. "You planned the ravine, the pursuit, even the way I was supposed to meet with Guinevere. I walked your path exactly, but I noticed."
The commander's hands twitched at his sides. He opened his mouth, then shut it.
Lucian's smirk lingered. "All of it. And now, you'll see just how far I can bend your plan."
The knights behind the commander shifted uneasily, sensing the tension. Lucian's gaze swept them, cold and calculating, while the commander's expression darkened with unease.
Lucian's thoughts were quiet, precise. He had seen the manipulation. He had predicted the path. And now, everything they had tried to control was in his hands.
Lucian's chest rose and fell quickly. Even if I die now… I still have two more lives. He clenched his fists. I just wasted one to confirm if they were controlling me.
The commander charged suddenly, blade raised. Lucian barely had time to react. A sharp pain tore through his side.
He stumbled backward. His vision blurred. Dirt and leaves pressed against his face as he fell.
But the world went dark.
---
When he opened his eyes again, everything was different.
He was tied up. Thick ropes bit into his wrists, keeping him suspended in place.
Two figures stood in front of him. One was the commander with the same armor, same face, and same cold gaze.
The other… a girl. He didn't recognize her.
He froze, blinking. His mind raced. This… this is the flashback I saw. I'm back here.
"Impossible," he whispered to himself, voice hoarse.
The girl tilted her head, studying him silently. The commander's lips curved into a small, cruel smile.
"State your name," the man said.
Lucian looked down at his own trembling hands. "Eiden Cross."
"And your purpose?" the woman asked gently.
He hesitated. "To live… I guess."
"That's not enough," the man replied. "What drives you?"
Lucian clenched his jaw. "My brothers."
The woman leaned forward. "And what will you do when you lose something so dear?"
Lucian stiffened. "I won't let that happen."
The man pressed, "But if it does?"
He paused. "…Then I'll keep moving."
The woman smiled faintly. "Good. Then answer one last question."
Lucian looked up.
"What do you fear most?"
"Death."