The silence that followed Josh's death was so absolute it felt unnatural. Not even Emma breathed.
But then—
Everything around Eira shattered into darkness.
The walls, the floor, the body, even Emma vanished in a breath. She didn't fall, didn't move, and yet space warped around her like a curtain being drawn from the world. Her body felt weightless, unanchored. Darkness consumed her—not malevolent, but ancient, waiting.
Then she was there. Again.
The same place she had glimpsed eleven years ago as a small light .
But this time, she was not a small light . She was whole—flesh with soul inside, full of thoughts and will—transported to a vast realm of lightless eternity. It was neither cold nor warm, neither dream nor memory. And before her stood the one thing she remembered vividly:
A great light, brilliant and blinding, not shaped like any being, but pulsing with presence. It radiated knowledge and time, the weight of fate itself.
She recognized it instantly.
The World's Will.
It had been with her the moment she transmigrated. It had guided her, if only vaguely. Now, it stood in her path again, and she did not flinch.
A pause stretched between them, long and heavy.
Then the Will spoke.
Its voice was neither male nor female, neither loud nor soft. It simply was, resonating through her bones, bypassing sound entirely.
"Do you know what you've done?"
Eira's expression did not falter. Her eyes burned with something deeper than defiance.
"I did what I wanted to do," she said coolly.
The light shivered.
"You murdered a pivotal soul. You ignored my warning. The future has gone dark."
"Because of you," it continued, growing louder, sterner, "the lines of destiny have frayed. The weave has torn. I can no longer see what is to come. The fate of this world—of your world—is now obscured."
Eira narrowed her eyes.
"Good."
The Will's light pulsed violently.
"You don't understand. I warned you three times. You altered something beyond your knowledge. Do you comprehend what it means for even me to be blind?"
"You act like that's my problem," she snapped. "When I transmigrated, you told me I would serve as a helper and a backup plan. That I would receive missions. If instability arose, I would be told what to fix."
She took a step forward.
"But I'm not your slave."
Silence answered her.
"I appreciate what you did—sending me here. Giving me a second chance. I do. But I won't chain my actions just to preserve some vision of fate. What next? My death too, is fate? Am I to just nod and die when you tell me it's time? Or should I sit quietly when it's Emma's life? Or Fleur's?"
Her voice cracked slightly on that name. "No. I'm not watching them die because you want a stable timeline."
The light dimmed slightly, as though recoiling.
"You erased my memories," Eira continued. "You sent me here with nothing. You said this world was inspired by books and films from my previous life—but you stripped away all my knowledge. You sent me in blind. And now you expect me to bow every time you show up? To obey blindly when you don't even let me remember what I'm supposed to prevent?"
Eira stepped forward, eyes burning.
"My whole existence here," she said coldly, "is a defiance of fate."
She stared into the light without fear.
"The moment you sent me here… the moment I woke up in this world…"
"That was when the timeline broke. That was when fate changed."
Her voice sharpened.
"And now you expect me to follow it?"
"You sent me here."
"You altered everything."
"And still, you expect things to stay normal?"
She let the words hang in the air.
"Did you really think nothing would change?"
The light glowed faintly again, then answered, slower now.
"Had you truly been about to break the world, I would have intervened sooner. But I gave you a warning. That moment with Josh… it was not meant to be a turning point. You made it one. You disobeyed."
"I'm not your pawn," Eira snarled. "You sent me here to live. I am living. I'm choosing. And if that bothers you—"
"—Then what?" the Will asked. Its tone, though vast, carried something almost close to sorrow.
They stood there—two forces in a realm beyond time: the Will, ancient and overseer, and Eira, furious and full of defiant.
Then, Eira asked quietly, "When we first met… you said you couldn't interfere. That you could observe, not act. So why are you here now? How did you bring me?"
"I did not," came the calm reply. "I merely projected a part of myself to you. You are still standing where you were—still in that room. This moment exists outside of time."
"You can't interfere. And yet you judged me."
"I only cautioned. And I caution now: do not take steps that cannot be undone. You have made the future obscure. Even I cannot see what comes next."
Eira laughed—a bitter, hard laugh that echoed in the void.
"Good. Now you finally understand what it feels like."
She stared at the Will with open resentment. "You cleared my memories, stripped my knowledge, and then dared to place rules around me. And now you want to lecture me about consequences? Look at what you've done."
She raised her voice.
"You made me blind. And now you are blind too. Don't pretend you didn't bring this on yourself."
A long pause.
"Perhaps you are right," the Will said at last, softly.
The light dimmed—not weakened, but resigned.
"Go, then. Walk the path you've chosen. I will not intervene again. I will not appear again. From this moment on, you are alone. Your fate, your choices, your consequences—are entirely your own."
Eira felt a chill. The Will's presence began to fade, unraveling from her like silk.
She opened her mouth once more, her tone biting. "I was always alone, And don't think you can stop me from killing Cecil. I will kill him."
The Will said nothing.
A final silence stretched between them like a grave.
Then, without light or flash, the void tore open—and she was gone.
⸻
She blinked.
The room returned.
Josh's body still lay slumped in the chair, green light still lingering in the shadows. Emma stood beside her, wand lowered but alert. Not even a second seemed to have passed.
But inside her, everything had changed.
As a huge burden was lifted from her shoulders.