I'm going to die. I'm actually going to die. Right here. In my apartment. Strangled by a crazy queen lady.
---
"MAMA!"
The small voice cut through the haze like a knife.
"MAMA, STOP! MAMA, DON'T KILL PAPA!"
Elena stood in the corner of the room, her tiny hands balled into fists, her red eyes wide with horror. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her little wings fluttered desperately.
"MAMA, PLEASE!"
Erza's eye flicked to her daughter.
For a single heartbeat, something shifted in her expression. A crack in the ice. A moment of... something.
Then her gaze returned to Yuuta.
And stopped.
---
She looked at him. Really looked.
Not at his terrified face. Not at his choking desperation. At his eyes.
They were normal at first glance. Dark. Human. Unremarkable.
But as she stared—as her preternatural vision pierced the surface—she saw it.
Red.
Beneath the black. Beneath the ordinary. A faint crimson glow, hidden, suppressed.
Contact lenses.
Yuuta blinked. The movement dislodged one of the lenses just enough. A tear welled up—from fear, from choking, from sheer overwhelming terror—and washed the thin plastic away.
It fell. Fluttered down. Disappeared.
And Erza saw.
Crimson. Blood red. An eye that burned with inner light—faint, barely noticeable, but there.
The exact same color as Elena's.
The exact same light as Elena's.
"Children of Chaos," she whispered.
Her grip loosened.
Yuuta dropped to the floor.
Yuuta dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. He hit the ground hard, gasping, choking, dragging air into his starving lungs in great heaving breaths.
Air. Air. Beautiful, wonderful air.
He crawled backward, away from her, away from the danger, away from the woman who'd nearly killed him without breaking a sweat. His back hit the bed frame. He pressed himself against it, shaking, trembling, utterly broken by fear.
"What..." He gasped between breaths. "What is going on?! I was CLOSE to death! I was—I was—"
Words failed. His body shook. Tears—real tears, not from pain but from sheer terror—streamed down his face.
He hid.
Actually hid.
He scrambled behind the bed, curling into the small space between the frame and the wall, making himself as small as possible. His knees drew up to his chest. His arms wrapped around them.
He was a coward.
He knew it. Didn't care.
Death had been right there. Inches away. And he'd been helpless. Completely, utterly helpless.
So he hid.
---
Erza didn't move.
She stood in the center of the room, her eye fixed on the space where Yuuta had disappeared. Her expression wasn't angry anymore.
It was confused.
No—more than confused. Lost. Adrift. Drowning in questions she couldn't answer.
Child of Chaos.
Red eyes.
The same as Elena.
But different.
How?
Why?
Who is he?
"Papa?"
The small voice cut through the chaos.
Yuuta blinked.
He was still shaking. Still hiding. Still trying desperately to disappear into the space between bed and wall.
But that voice...
Soft. Fragile. Too sweet for this hellish world.
He turned his head slowly.
Elena stood beside him.
Not in the corner where she'd been crying. Not safely distant from her murderous mother. Right beside him. Close enough to touch.
Her tiny face was full of worry. Her red eyes—his eyes, apparently—searched his face for signs of hurt. Her little clawed hands reached out and clutched his sleeve.
"Papa, are you okay?"
---
Yuuta's brain shut off.
Completely. Entirely. Utterly.
Because the girl was so adorable that fear literally couldn't exist in the same space as her.
Her silver hair was messy from crying. Her tiny horns caught the light. Her little wings drooped with concern. Her tail curled nervously around her own ankle.
And she was looking at him. Worried about him. Trying to help him.
Every atom of terror in his body evaporated.
Replaced by something warm and overwhelming and completely irrational.
Ahhhh... she talks. And it's adorable. She's SO CUTE. I need to PROTECT HER. I need to HUG HER. I need to—
"Papa?" Elena's voice wobbled. "E-Elena tried to save you from Mama... but Elena is small... and Mama is scary..." Her wings drooped further. "Is Papa mad at Elena?"
Yuuta's heart exploded.
"NO!" The word came out too loud, too fast, too desperate. He scrambled to sit up properly, waving his hands. "No, no, no—Papa is OKAY! You did SO WELL, my little angel!"
He held up a thumb. It trembled, but he kept it raised.
"Papa is very impressed! Very grateful! The best rescue attempt ever!"
Elena's face lit up.
"Really?!"
"REALLY really!"
She jumped.
Not just a little hop—a full leap, her tiny body launching into the air with wings flapping and tail wagging. She landed in front of him, bouncing on her toes.
"Elena is happy! Elena made Papa happy!"
She kept jumping, little giggles escaping with every bounce. Her wings fluttered uselessly behind her, too small to actually fly but trying anyway. Her tail swished back and forth like an excited puppy.
Yuuta felt his soul leave his body.
From terror. From cuteness. From the sheer emotional whiplash of nearly dying and then immediately being confronted with the most adorable creature in existence.
He was pretty sure he'd died and gone to some weird demon-child heaven.
---
"Who are you?"
The cold voice shattered the moment.
Yuuta flinched. His eyes snapped up.
Erza stood over them both, her expression unreadable. But something had changed. The murderous intent was gone—replaced by something else. Confusion. Suspicion. The desperate need for answers.
"How did you impregnate me in my kingdom?"
Yuuta stared at her.
Then—without thinking—he scrambled behind Elena.
He used the tiny child as a shield.
Elena blinked. Looked back at him. Blinked again. Then puffed up proudly, apparently honored to be given such an important protective role.
Yuuta peered over her silver hair at the terrifying queen.
"I don't know who you are!" His voice was high, panicked, completely undignified. "I don't know what you're saying! What kingdom?! I don't like going out! I'm an INTROVERT!"
Erza's eye twitched.
"I know you are a Child of Chaos." Her voice was flat. Impatient. "A Zareth Follower. Don't act like you don't know anything."
"I DON'T know anything!"
Yuuta's hands gripped Elena's shoulders like she was a life raft. The tiny girl patted his arm reassuringly.
"Who are Children of Chaos?! What is Zareth?! What even makes SENSE anymore?! First you break into my apartment, then you freeze my bed, then you try to kill me, and NOW you're asking how I impregnated you in some kingdom I've never HEARD of?!"
His voice cracked on every other word.
"AND FIRST OF ALL—" He pointed a shaking finger at her. "How could I possibly impregnate you when I don't even KNOW you?! Or your kingdom?! I've never been to any continent! I've barely left my CITY! I spend most of my time in this APARTMENT!"
He gestured wildly at the cramped space.
"Look around! This is my LIFE! Cup noodles, posters, and crippling loneliness! Does this look like the home of someone who travels to secret kingdoms and impregnates queens?!"
---
Erza stared at him.
For a long, terrible moment, she said nothing.
Then her gaze swept the room.
The crooked posters. The scattered papers. The abandoned cup noodle. The general state of comfortable chaos that spoke of someone who spent far too much time alone.
Her eye returned to Yuuta.
Hidden behind a four-year-old. Shaking. Sweating. Looking like he might faint at any moment.
This was the father of her child?
This was the one who'd somehow—impossibly—by passed every defense of her kingdom, entered her private chambers, and...
She stopped that thought before it could finish.
"I don't understand."
The words came out quieter than she intended. Almost lost. The Queen of Atlantis—the Blade of Atlantis, the ruler of an entire continent—sounded confused. Vulnerable. Human.
"If you are not a Child of Chaos... then how do you have the Blood crimson eyes? How did you enter my chamber without any notice? How..."
She trailed off.
For the first time since entering this wretched apartment, the Queen of Atlantis had no idea what to do.
Yuuta peeked over Elena's silver hair.
"That's what I'm saying!" His voice was still high, still panicked, but at least he wasn't hiding anymore. "I don't know you! I've never seen you before in my life! This is the first time we've ever—"
"Impossible."
Erza's voice cut like ice.
"My magic never fails." Her eye narrowed. "I tracked the signature across realms. Across dimensions. It led HERE. To YOU."
She stepped forward.
Yuuta instinctively ducked lower behind Elena. The tiny girl puffed up her chest and spread her little arms wide, blocking the path like she could actually stop her mother.
Which was adorable. And useless. But mostly adorable.
Erza ignored her daughter completely. Her attention was fixed on Yuuta.
She raised one hand. Her finger pointed directly at his face.
"I am going to cast a spell on you." Her voice was flat. Commanding. "Listen carefully, disgusting human. Look at my face. The spell will search your memories. If you have seen me anywhere—anywhere at all—it will bring that memory forward. And you will remember."
Yuuta's eyes widened.
"Wait, what? A spell? In my brain? That sounds—"
"LOOK AT ME."
The command hit him like a physical force. His eyes snapped to hers against his will.
Violet met... crimson.
---
The spell hit.
It wasn't painful. It wasn't even uncomfortable. It was like someone had opened a door in his mind—a door he hadn't known existed—and let light pour in.
Memories rose.
Not the ones he lived with every day. Not the recent ones. Deeper. Older. Buried so long ago they'd become indistinguishable from dreams.
A bedroom. Massive. Grand. Nothing like anything he'd ever seen in real life.
A bed. Canopy. Silk sheets. Candles flickering.
A woman.
Then—
Firelight.
Stone walls.
A room unlike anything he'd ever seen.
Erza watched his face change. Saw the flicker of recognition. Saw the moment the memory surfaced.
Yuuta's eyes widened.
"You—" His voice came out strangled. "You're the woman from my dream!"
He pointed at her, finger shaking.
"The dream! Many Years ago! I thought it was a dream! How did YOU get HERE?!"
---
Erza's expression shifted.
Relief. Satisfaction. The cold pleasure of being proven right.
"I knew it." Her voice was quiet. Triumphant. "I knew you were the one who ran away."
Yuuta shook his head violently.
"No. NO. That was a DREAM. I was a teenager! I was in the orphanage! I woke up in my BED!"
"And yet here I am." Erza's voice was flat. "In your apartment. With your daughter. After you spent the night with me when I was drunk."
Yuuta grabbed his head.
His fingers dug into his scalp. His eyes squeezed shut. His entire body trembled with the effort of forcing his brain to make sense of the impossible.
It was real.
That night. That beautiful woman. The warmth. The passion. The way she'd felt in his arms.
It was all REAL.
---
FIVE YEARS AGO
THE ATLANTIS KINGDOM
THE QUEEN'S PRIVATE CHAMBER
It had been a long day.
Erza Vely Dragomir—Queen of Atlantis, Blade of the Atlantic, descendant of the legendary Seraphina—had spent fourteen hours in council meetings. Her father had been negotiating with neighboring kingdoms. Dealing with nightmare creatures from the deep. Handling a hundred crises that demanded her attention.
By the time she reached her chambers, she was exhausted.
And drunk.
The wine had flowed freely at the victory celebration. More freely than she'd intended. Her head spun. Her limbs felt heavy. Her usually sharp mind was clouded with pleasant fog.
She barely made it to her bed.
Her private chamber. The most secure room in the entire kingdom. Protected by ancient wards. Guarded by elite soldiers. Impenetrable.
She collapsed onto silk sheets and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
---
She didn't hear the soft pop of displaced air.
Didn't see the figure that materialized in the center of her room.
Didn't notice the wide eyes of a teenage boy staring at her sleeping form.
---
Yuuta Konuari was Sixteen years old.
He was an orphan. He was lonely. He was going through puberty in the most awkward way possible.
And right now, he was standing in a bedroom that looked like something from a fantasy novel.
Whoa.
Stone walls. Tapestries. Candlelight. A massive bed with silk sheets and golden trim.
And on that bed—
A woman.
The most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
She was pale as snow. Her hair spilled across the pillow like liquid moonlight. Her features were sharp, elegant, perfect. She wore some kind of flowing nightgown that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.
Yuuta's brain stopped working.
Is this... is this a dream?
It had to be. Dreams were the only place things like this happened. Dreams were the only place beautiful women existed in the same space as awkward orphans.
Yeah. Definitely a dream.
And in dreams...
Well. In dreams, you could do things you'd never do in real life.
---
Yuuta climbed onto the bed.
The woman didn't stir. Didn't wake. Just continued sleeping, her chest rising and falling in slow, peaceful rhythm.
He looked at her face. At her closed eyes. At her parted lips.
So beautiful.
He leaned down. Pressed his mouth to hers.
She didn't respond. Didn't move. But she also didn't push him away.
His teenage brain, already operating on pure fantasy logic, took this as permission.
What followed was awkward. Fumbling. The kind of clumsy, desperate exploration that only a Sixteen-year-old boy could produce.
But somewhere in the midst of it—somewhere between his inexperience and her unconsciousness—something happened.
Power stirred.
Ancient. Primal. Inevitable.
And three hours later, when Yuuta finally collapsed beside her, utterly spent and barely conscious—
Something had changed.
Something had been created.
---
Yuuta woke in his orphanage bed.
Sunlight streamed through the window. The other boys were already up, already moving, already living their normal lives.
He lay there for a long moment, staring at the ceiling.
What a dream.
He smiled. Sighed. Felt a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the morning sun.
Best dream ever.
Then he got up and went about his day.
He never mentioned it to anyone. Never thought about it again.
It was just a dream.
Just a weird, wonderful, impossible dream.
---
PRESENT DAY
YUUTA'S APARTMENT
Yuuta stared at Erza.
Then at Elena.
Then back at Erza.
His mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.
Nothing came out.
Elena tugged at his sleeve.
"Papa?" Her red eyes—his red eyes—looked up at him with innocent curiosity. "Why is Papa making funny face?"
Yuuta looked at her.
Really looked.
The silver hair. The red eyes. The way she tilted her head when confused—exactly the way he did.
The same eye. The same nature. The same everything.
"It was real." His voice was barely a whisper. "It was all real."
"Yes." Erza's voice was cold, but something behind it wavered. "It was."
"I—" Yuuta's hands shook. "I was Sixteen. I was a KID. I didn't know—I thought it was a DREAM—"
"And yet here we are." Erza gestured at Elena. "Five years later. With a child."
Yuuta looked at Elena again.
At this tiny person. This impossible, magical, beautiful child.
His child.
His daughter.
"Oh no." His voice cracked. "Oh no no no no—"
He slid down the wall. Sat on the floor. Stared at nothing.
"I'm a father. I'm a FATHER. I have a DAUGHTER. From a DREAM. That WASN'T A DREAM."
Elena tilted her head.
"Papa is funny."
Yuuta looked at her.
At this tiny girl with his eyes and her mother's hair. At this innocent child who had no idea what her existence meant. At this living, breathing proof of a night he'd spent Sixteen years dismissing as fantasy.
Then he looked at Erza.
At the woman he'd... what? Taken advantage of? Assaulted? Raped?
The word hit him like a physical blow.
Rapist.
He was a rapist.
The realization crashed over him with the force of an ocean. He'd been fourteen—barely more than a child himself. He hadn't known it was real. Hadn't understood what he was doing. Hadn't meant to hurt anyone.
But none of that mattered.
The woman before him had been drunk. Unconscious. Incapable of consent. And he had climbed into her bed and done things that should never have been done.
Seven deadly sins.
He'd been raised in the church. The orphanage had been run by nuns—strict, devout women who drilled the teachings into every child who passed through their doors. Sin. Repentance. Salvation.
And the worst sins? The ones that damned you forever?
Lust was one of them.
He had committed lust. Not just in his heart—in action. In the most violating way possible.
Yuuta's soul left his body.
Not literally. But something inside him—some core of self-worth, some belief that he was fundamentally good—crumbled into ash.
"W-wait..." His voice trembled. Shook. Barely held together. "Does this mean I...?"
He couldn't finish the sentence.
Erza watched him.
Silent. Still. Her violet eye fixed on his face with an intensity that stripped him bare. She didn't speak. Didn't move. Just watched—measuring him, weighing him, finding him wanting.
"Did I... force myself on you?" The words came out broken. "I... I thought it was a dream. I never meant—I would never—"
Still she said nothing.
The silence grew between them. Sharp enough to cut. Heavy enough to crush.
When she finally moved, it wasn't anger that crossed her expression.
It was disappointment.
And beneath that—something darker. Something that made Yuuta's blood run cold.
"I see."
Her voice was quiet. So quiet. But colder than any winter he'd ever known.
"So you truly have no understanding of what you've done."
---
Yuuta's throat tightened.
He couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Could only stare at this woman—this queen—and feel the full weight of his sin pressing down on him.
"I'm sorry." The words tumbled out, desperate and useless. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I didn't UNDERSTAND. Tell me—please—what do you want me to do? How can I make this right?"
Her answer came without hesitation.
The air behind her shimmered.
A crack echoed through the room—sharp, violent, absolute—and a chain of solid ice shot forward.
It coiled around Yuuta's neck before he could react.
---
The touch was brutal.
Biting. Freezing. Absolute. The cold seeped into his skin, his flesh, his bones—not just physical cold, but something deeper. The cold of judgment. The cold of finality.
Yuuta's body stiffened. Every instinct screamed at him to run, to fight, to escape—but he couldn't move. Couldn't breathe properly. Could only stand there, frozen, as the chain tightened just enough to remind him who held his life in her hands.
Erza stepped closer.
Her presence filled the room. Overwhelming. Ancient. Merciless. She was no longer just a woman in his apartment—she was a force of nature. A power from a world far beyond his comprehension.
"You will come with me."
Her voice was quiet. Final. Absolute.
"To my kingdom. There, your actions—and your existence—will be judged."
A pulse of cold traveled through the chain. It locked deeper into his skin, sealing itself to him like a brand.
Yuuta's heart hammered against his ribs. Painful. Desperate. Human.
"Please..."
The word was barely a whisper. His voice cracked on the single syllable.
"Please, I don't belong in your world. I don't even understand what I've done. I'm just—I'm NOBODY. I'm nothing. Please don't take me to—"
His voice broke completely.
---
For a fraction of a second—just a fraction—Erza's gaze softened.
Something flickered behind that cold violet eye. Something almost human. Almost gentle.
Then it hardened again.
"Understanding does not erase the consequences."
Her voice was quiet. Almost gentle itself—but gentle in the way a blade was gentle before it cut.
"And your fate is no longer in your hands."
The floor beneath them began to glow with a pale, ancient light.
And for the first time in Yuuta's life, he felt truly powerless.
Truly afraid.
To be continued…