"Who are you really, Aiden?"
The words hit hard. Too hard.
What now? Think. Think.Maybe... maybe I can play the amnesia card.
"I... I woke up alone. No memories. No idea who I am or where I came from."
Before he could finish, Zane cut him off, sharp and cold.
"Did you?" Zane's tone was biting. "Want to know something? Po didn't know how to fight. And you... you can. Why you look like him?"
A shiver ran down Aiden's spine.Damn it.
"Who are you?" Zane pressed, his eyes narrowing with suspicion."A spy? If that's your role, you're doing a terrible job. If you wanted to sabotage us, you would've let Lyanna die. That would've destroyed us."
Aiden's throat tightened.The amnesia lie wouldn't hold alone. He needed something close enough to the truth to sound real.
"I... I'm not Po," Aiden admitted carefully, watching every flicker of expression."That's right. Our souls... were inverted."
The air grew tense. Silence hung heavy. Zane's expression shifted, still doubtful, but now curious.
Good. Aiden pressed on.
"In the prison, something happened. Something I don't fully understand," he continued, steadying his voice."A strange phenomenon. Somehow, we switched souls. His ended up in my body, and mine in his."
It sounded crazy, even to him, but compared to the impossible truth, this was his best shot.
That might actually be more believable.
Zane's next words cut deep.
"Are Po and Ro alive?"
Aiden hesitated, then answered honestly.
"Ro is alive. Po... is in my body. I don't know where they are now. A golem blocked our way. I escaped, but they stayed behind. I don't know if they made it."
Zane's eyes darkened.
"So you took Poraven's identity?"
Poraven?That's the second time he used that name.So... Po's real name was Poraven? Strange.
Aiden scowled slightly but answered firmly.
"I took the opportunity to survive."
Zane studied him for a long moment. The tension was unbearable.Then, unexpectedly, he nodded.
"I... believe you."
You do?
Zane reached into a small bag on his back and pulled out two crystals, faintly glowing with runes carved into them.
"These crystals represent Ro and Po's lives," he explained quietly. "If one of them dies, the crystal breaks."
He held them up. Both were intact and glowing softly.
What?That's... impossible.Po is clearly dead. I saw his soul in the Soul Gallery. There's no doubt.
Aiden's thoughts spun wildly, but he forced himself to stay calm.
"So they're alive. But..." Zane's voice grew harder. "That still leaves the question. Where did you learn to fight?"
This part was easy.
"I didn't lie. I really don't know. I swear, I'm still amnesiac."
He met Zane's gaze, steady and honest.
Zane didn't seem fully convinced, but he continued anyway.
"So, you're an amnesiac fighter ready to kill?"
Aiden frowned at the phrasing.
"Aiden, you're not with the Watch. I knew it from the start. Every Watch member leaves a trace of magic behind. It's how they navigate this forest without elven help. And according to Selina, you were first spotted near one of the possible gateways to the Prison of Mongold. So... your story holds up well."
He placed a hand on Aiden's shoulder.
He knows a lot more than I thought.
"Selina was close to Po through letters. So here's what we'll do. Publicly, you're just an outsider. No soul swap talk."
"You really believe me?" Aiden asked, surprised.
Zane's eyes darkened slightly, his voice lowering.
"You don't know what's in that prison. But I do. That makes your story believable enough. Don't make me doubt you."He stepped back. "Go rest. You have three days before your first mission."
"You're giving me one?" Aiden asked, surprised again.
"You can fight. You can think fast. I'd be stupid not to use you, especially considering how dangerous this mission is."
Did he really believe me? His signals were mixed.Zane turned away, already walking off."You've raised my hopes, Aiden. Don't disappoint me."
Just like that, he left.
That was... a talk, for sure.And he knows way more than I do.
Aiden stood alone at the training ground, disbelief settling in.He believed me, but for reasons I still can't fully understand.
He sighed, wincing as he pressed a hand to his ribs. The ache reminded him of the fight, and the promise of more trouble ahead.
A mission in three days.Looks like I really got myself into something. Then again, that was the goal.
Still, with Zane gone and no immediate tasks, Aiden found himself with precious free time. He knew exactly what to do with it.
Without hesitation, he slipped away from the training grounds, keeping to the quieter paths. His eyes scanned the surroundings, careful, deliberate.
Soon, he found what he was looking for. An isolated alley, narrow and dark, where no curious gazes would reach. He settled on a barrel, the cool air and silence wrapping around him like a cloak.
Just to be safe, he whispered, "Open."
At once, the familiar window materialized before his eyes. Text followed shortly after, casual and irritating.
"Having fun?" it asked.
Aiden's lips curled into a faint scowl. "You little shit," he muttered.
"You know how much trouble I've gone through?"
Unmoved, the text shifted again.
"Just to be clear, I will not answer your questions."
Of course. Aiden exhaled slowly, already expecting that.
"I figured as much… so I need to buy it, right?"
The text didn't even bother replying in words this time. Instead, the window morphed, revealing the Soul Market. Rows of names and values appeared before him, simple but unnerving.
"Can I… change souls to coins?" he asked cautiously.
"Yep."
"Are they all worth the same?"
"No."
Aiden scowled and ran his eyes over the list. He selected one of the six men he had killed.
[Karlo = 1]
Each of the other five, excluding the chief, was worth the same. Just one coin each.
Only one? He couldn't hide his irritation.I've seen things worth thirty to fifty coins.
The realization settled heavily on him.
I'm really going to end up doing awful things, aren't I?
A bitter acceptance crept into his chest.
"Fine," he muttered.
With mechanical precision, Aiden completed the trade. The coins tallied up quickly. Five in total. That left him with two souls: Po, and Harven.
Harven... The memory came uninvited. The bald man's neck snapping under his grip, the sharp and final moment still vivid in his mind.
He shook his head, forcing himself back to the present. Only for the window to flicker again.
"Congratulations, you just met the requirements to learn more."
His frustration returned, cutting through the heaviness like a blade.
"Didn't you say I had to buy it?" he asked coldly.
"Earn it. And you did," the window replied with disturbing cheerfulness. "Changing someone's existence into currency for the first time is worth celebrating!"
"Shut up," Aiden growled. "Just get to the point."
"I can't shut up. And get to the point."
His teeth clenched tighter. The thing was toying with him.
"God, you're unbearable," he muttered.
"You know what I meant," he added, bitterness thick in his voice.
"Yes, I do. I always do."
The way it said that made his skin crawl. Too calm. Too knowing.
The words felt personal. Watching.
"I will tell you some information," the text continued. "Ready, or do you want a notebook?"
Aiden ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly, trying to steady his nerves.
"Can I ge—"
"No. Let's start."
Before he could protest, the flow of text resumed, unrelenting.
"You're surely curious about who am I?"
Aiden grimaced.
"There are more important questions," he muttered, though his defiance felt hollow now.
"Don't care," the text shot back, blunt and uncaring. "But I think you already have some ideas, don't you?"
Aiden paused. That hit too close.
A strange window.The ability to manipulate souls.Cheating death itself.
Pieces clicked into place, but he didn't want them to.
"...You are a god?" he asked, his voice quieter this time. There was no strength behind the question. Just unease.
For a moment, the window stayed silent.
That silence said enough.
Then came the answer, almost playful.
"Aren't you scared? Working for a god?"
Aiden felt his chest tighten. He opened his mouth, but no words came at first. Only his resolve, thin and cracking at the edges, held him together.
"I... I will return home. Whether you're a god or not."
"You will. Yes, you will," the window responded, almost like a whisper now. "We'll talk soon enough. I have things to do."
Without warning, the window vanished.
Aiden was left alone, the silence now oppressive.
Slowly, he buried his face in his hands.
So it is a god.
Damn it.
Why am I even caught up in this nightmare?
His mind spiraled deeper as he sat there, motionless.
What did I do back home to deserve this?
Home...
The word home barely felt real anymore.He tried to picture it. A street, a room, someone's face. But nothing came. Only faint echoes. Shadows of memories long since dulled.
A hollow ache filled his chest.
Core memory. Maybe that could help, he thought desperately. Maybe it could show me what I've lost.
Driven by that hope, Aiden opened the Soul Market again. His eyes flicked over the familiar options, but something new drew his attention. A faint glow pulsed at the edge of the interface.
[Soul Contractor: 5 Coins]
His gaze locked on it. A brief description appeared.
[Soul Contractor — Permits the usage of the power of contracts to bind souls.]
He stared, reading the words over and over.
It sounded useful. Dangerous too, but practical. Binding souls? That was heavy, but so was everything else in this place.
Still... Core memory.It lingered in his mind like a soft whisper. If he ever wanted to hold onto who he truly was, wouldn't that be the smarter choice?
He hesitated. His eyes darted across the options, searching desperately for something else. Anything that could make this decision easier.
But there were no other practical choices for five coins. Nothing remotely close to utility.
Aiden clenched his teeth. If I'm going to work for the rebellion, I'll need power. Even if I don't fully understand it yet.
"Screw it," he muttered under his breath, frustration and fatigue mixing in his voice.
His bruised finger hovered, then pressed down on Soul Contractor.
[Are you sure?]
"Yes," he answered immediately. No point hesitating now.
The window reacted instantly.
[Soul Contractor: Acquired][New aspect of the Void unlocked.][Aiden can now visualize Tartarus.]
His stomach twisted.
"Tartarus?" he whispered aloud, his voice uneasy. "Like... that Tartarus?"
Dread curled in his gut. The name alone brought grim images to mind. The abyss, punishment, endless torment. Why was that part of this?
"I just wanted Soul Contractor," he muttered bitterly. "Now I've got something even stranger."
The screen offered no answers.
Aiden exhaled sharply and shook his head. No use worrying about what he couldn't fix right now.
He switched to the Soul Gallery, hoping for something clearer, but as soon as he tapped the option, a new notification slid into view.
[Your comprehension of souls grew.][You can now use Power Heritage.]
Aiden frowned deeply, his patience worn thin.
"Can we start adding clear descriptions to everything?" he muttered, glaring at the window.
There was no explanation. No glowing tooltip or helpful summary. Power Heritage. It sounded important, maybe even incredible, yet it sat there like a puzzle he couldn't solve.
Frustration tightened his chest, but curiosity pushed harder.
His eyes fell to the two souls still lingering in his possession. Po and Harven.
Aiden hesitated. His hand trembled slightly as he raised his finger.
Can I...?
The question hung in the air, unspoken but heavy.
He touched Harven's name. Everything changed.
His vision darkened instantly, as though the world itself had been pulled from under him.
Coldness rushed in, enveloping him in oppressive silence. He could no longer feel the barrel beneath him, nor hear the faint wind from the alley. There was only void.
His heartbeat quickened, echoing unnaturally loud in the empty black.
"...What did I just do?" he whispered.
No answer came.
Only silence, and something watching.
Aiden felt it immediately. A presence. Heavy. Suffocating. It clung to the air like smoke, thick and hungry.
The void was no longer empty. Something else was here.
From the suffocating black, a voice drifted toward him.
Broken. Warped. Familiar.
"Aiden... you... killed... me."
The words slithered into his ears, cold as ice and slow as death.
His breath caught in his throat. That voice. He knew it. Or thought he did.
"Harven?" he rasped, but his own voice sounded distant, swallowed by the dark.
Or... was it Harven?
There was something wrong about it. Like a memory twisted too tightly, forced to wear a face it no longer recognized.
Aiden tried to step forward, but his body refused to respond. He couldn't move, couldn't even shift. He was locked in place, paralyzed by invisible chains.
The presence circled him, though he saw nothing. He could only feel it. It clung to his skin like rot, whispering without words.
"And... now... you... want... more?"
The voice had changed. No longer weak. Bitter now. Venomous and spiteful.
"Haven't... you... taken... enough?"
The accusation struck deep. Guilt and fear entwined in his chest, squeezing until his pulse hammered in his skull.
Suddenly, shapes formed in the black.
A twisted silhouette stood before him. Something vaguely human, yet horribly wrong. Its head hung at an unnatural angle, neck cracked, as if mocking the way he had died.
The face was a blur of features, smeared and melted like wax. Eyes faintly glowing as they stared directly at Aiden's soul.
Without warning, it lunged.
The thing moved too fast, jerking forward like a broken marionette. Its limbs snapped and twisted as it rushed him, mouth wide, spilling silent screams.
Aiden's instincts roared, but his body refused to obey.
There was no escape.
The presence struck.
And his eyes flew open.
Gasping, Aiden jolted upright. His heart pounded against his ribs like it wanted to break free.
He was back. Still sitting on the barrel.
The alley was quiet, as if nothing had happened.
Cold sweat clung to his skin, and the world felt unreal. No time seemed to have passed, if any had at all.
But the memory lingered.
Not a dream. No, it had been something more.
He stared down at his trembling hands, words from the void still echoing in his mind.
"Haven't you taken enough?"
Aiden swallowed hard, throat dry.
For the first time, the true weight of what he was doing and what he was becoming pressed down on him, heavier than ever before.