I slip into him like a ghost passing through a cracked window — cold, silent, and unseen. The System hums in my mind, its voice clinical, precise.
---
Entry confirmed. Subject: 17-year-old male. Relation: younger brother of primary target. Location: confined to a small bedroom, dusk. Universe coordinate: Alpha-3X, reality level 5. Temporal offset: -2.3 hours from primary event.
The voice of the System cuts through the void inside my mind: sterile, emotionless, unyielding. No room for mercy, no space for hesitation. Just cold, hard fact.
I am here.
I am inside.
I am the shadow behind his eyes.
Eren.
The younger brother.
A vessel. A host.
His life is borrowed, his skin my prison and my weapon.
I feel the pulse racing beneath the surface—young, erratic, fragile.
Fragile, just like the illusion of protection his older brother thinks he gave him.
The target. The one who carries the real sin.
Because in this twisted play, the older brother killed.
Not just anyone.
Not some random enemy.
A keeper of balance — a cog in the universe's endless machine.
But he didn't know.
He killed only to protect his little brother.
To shield Eren from harm.
A violent, savage instinct.
The kind of blind loyalty I could never respect.
I don't care about loyalty.
I don't care about love.
I care about order.
And the System cares about order.
Eren's brother shattered the cosmic scales, unwittingly dooming them both.
That's why I'm here.
---
I flicker through Eren's memories like a predator tearing flesh from bone.
There's the night — shadows bleeding through shattered glass, screams that echoed in the silence, the gunshot that tore apart a quiet street and shattered a universe in one cruel instant.
Eren's brother never understood the weight of that shot.
Never knew the man he killed was a fulcrum, balancing entire timelines and realities on his shoulders.
No.
He only knew he was protecting this boy.
Protecting me.
---
I snarl inside his mind, tasting the bitter stench of weakness.
The boy's terror, confusion — useless emotions.
I have no room for hesitation.
No mercy.
Only the cold calculus of judgment.
---
The room I occupy is small, suffocating, and filled with the stale air of dusk settling in. The flickering light from a dying bulb casts long shadows on peeling wallpaper.
Eren's body shivers.
His breath hitches.
But this isn't Eren's fight anymore.
It's mine.
---
System Notification: Mission Priority Elevated. Target's sins exceed threshold. Execution imminent.
I hear the System's cold decree like the crack of a whip.
No pleas will save him.
No repentance will suffice.
The scales demand blood.
---
I flex Eren's fingers.
Long, slender digits trembling with adolescent uncertainty.
I feel the weight of stolen life pressing down, and I welcome it.
This body may be fragile — but my will is not.
---
I brush past the memories of brotherhood and love—those lies humans cling to.
I don't feel sympathy for Eren.
He is no more than a door to the real prize.
The brother.
The one who doomed them both.
---
I study the boy's mind.
I listen to the desperate whispers beneath the surface.
The silent vow never spoken aloud.
Protect.
Survive.
---
I find the memory they share — secret, unspoken, burning like acid.
The night the brother killed the balance keeper.
The blood spilled in the dark.
The hidden horror that no one knows but these two.
---
I don't pity them.
I mock their ignorance.
I will tear the illusion apart.
Because justice — real justice — demands a reckoning.
---
Outside the window, the world turns ignorant, unaware.
Inside, the clock ticks down.
Twenty-four hours to repent.
Twenty-four hours until execution.
---
I am the Executioner.
I do not forget.
I do not forgive.
---
I lean deeper into Eren's mind, feeling the boy's fear and confusion swirl like storm clouds inside.
But there is no turning back.
---
The moment comes.
The cold finality.
The reckoning.
---
The room was dim, lit only by the blue glow of a dying holo-screen and the warm flicker of an old desk lamp. I could feel him before he knocked.
The older brother.
The sinner.
He stepped in like he always did—calm, confident, tired from another long day doing whatever sad little heroes do in this part of the universe.
"Yo, you still up?" he asked.
I turned in Eren's body, slowly, casually. His voice stirred old, warm feelings in this flesh I wore—but they weren't mine, and they didn't matter.
"Couldn't sleep," I said. "Was waiting for you."
He raised an eyebrow, chuckling as he sat on the edge of the bed. "Waiting for me? What, did you miss me or something?"
I smiled. Slow. Crooked.
"Something like that."
He ruffled Eren's hair. "You're acting weird tonight, little man."
I tilted my head.
"I'm serious. I wanted to give you something. Just a little… heads-up."
He raised an eyebrow, amused. "Oh yeah? What kind of heads-up?"
I grinned wider, sharp teeth barely hidden behind boyish lips.
"You've got twenty-four hours to repent."
I paused.
Then added with a light chuckle:
"Or… y'know. Boom. Execution."
He laughed, just as I knew he would. Loud and carefree. "Okay, what have you been watching? That some new game you're into?"
I mirrored his laughter. Hollow. Dead.
"Something like that."
He shook his head, standing up again and stretching. "You've been watching too many SystemNet dramas. You sound like one of those edgy bounty AI."
I stood as well, slowly, eyes following his every movement.
"But hey," he said as he walked toward the bathroom, "if you're gonna kill me, at least wait until after I get a shower. I smell like a starship's engine bay."
I nodded, still smiling as he disappeared down the hall.
His back was turned.
He never saw the shift in my eyes.
He didn't notice the way my fingers curled, knuckles tightening.
He thought I was his little brother.
He thought wrong.