The silence lasted almost a millennium.
Not because there was nothing to say, but because both understood that what little they remembered was all they had… and even so, it weighed too much.
Nero was the first to move. He slowly turned his head and looked at Merlin, as if afraid that doing so would cause the revelation to fall apart.
The dim light barely illuminated his face. He didn't look different. And yet, he was.
"You also reincarnated, didn't you?" he asked.
There was no accusation in his voice.
Only a raw need to confirm something he already knew.
Merlin slowly shook his head.
"I transmigrated," he replied.
"I never died."
The silence fell again.
Heavier.
Nero swallowed.
"Then… you remember," he said. "At least a little."
Merlin hesitated.
"I remember… the end," he finally said.
"Only that."
Nero closed his eyes for a second.
"The last twenty-four hours," he murmured.
Merlin nodded.
"No more."
They stayed still. As if both had just lost something for the second time.
"What do you remember?" Merlin asked.
Nero exhaled slowly.
"My house," he said.
"Not all of it. Just… fragments."
He opened his eyes.
"A normal night. Too normal."
"The television on even though I wasn't watching it."
"Blue light filling the living room."
He smiled bitterly.
"I don't even remember what was on the screen."
Merlin lowered his gaze.
"I remember a screen too," he said.
"Not a television."
Nero looked at him.
"A laptop," Merlin continued. "Old. Loud."
"Badly written code I'd been trying to fix for hours."
Nero frowned.
"Programming?"
"Yes," he replied.
"Computer engineering. Student."
He paused.
"I don't remember my university. Or my friends."
"I just remember being tired."
That hit harder than expected.
"Me too," Nero admitted.
"Tired for no specific reason."
A different silence formed. A more human one.
"Do you remember how you got here?" Nero asked.
Merlin shook his head.
"No. One moment I was in front of the screen…"
"And the next, I was falling."
Nero let out a dry laugh.
"We always fall."
Merlin raised his head.
"Do you realize," he said,
"That what little we remember… isn't happiness?"
Nero thought about it.
"No," he replied. "It's routine."
Merlin nodded.
"That's what hurts."
He leaned against the wall.
"We don't even have important memories," he added.
"No goodbyes. No great moments."
"Just… the last thing before disappearing."
Nero clenched his fists.
"And even so, that world feels more real than this one."
"Because it was stable," Merlin replied.
"There, a mistake didn't kill you."
Nero exhaled through his nose.
"And you studying computer engineering…"
He paused slightly.
"…who would've thought."
Merlin smiled faintly.
"Designed to understand systems," he said.
"And I ended up trapped in one I can't debug."
Nero looked at him closely.
"That's why you think the way you do," he said. "Why you see patterns where others only see cruelty."
Merlin didn't deny it.
"And you," he added, "make decisions as if every line of badly written code were a life."
Nero lowered his gaze.
"Because it is."
The silence returned.
But it wasn't uncomfortable.
"If we only remember the last twenty-four hours…," Nero said, "what do we really have left of that world?"
Merlin thought for a moment.
"A reference," he replied. "Not a home."
Nero closed his eyes.
"I miss something I don't even remember clearly."
Merlin nodded.
"That's the worst part."
The light from the window went out completely.
Before falling asleep, Merlin spoke one last time.
"Maybe we don't remember who we were…"
"But we remember what it felt like not to be here."
Nero remembered something.
It wasn't an image.
It was a sensation.
A detail that had been there from the beginning, but that his mind had avoided touching.
"Merlin…"
He said his name softly.
The mage didn't turn around.
"What do you want now?" he replied, tired, but without irritation.
Nero watched him for a few seconds before speaking.
"You also have two paths, right?"
The silence wasn't immediate.
Merlin took just a second longer than normal to respond.
Then he nodded.
Without looking at him.
"Yes."
Nothing more.
There was no surprise.
No question in return.
That alone was confirmation.
Nero leaned his head back against the wall.
"So it wasn't random," he murmured.
Merlin closed his eyes.
"No," he said. "Definitely not."
"I've been thinking…," Nero began.
"About how we got here."
Merlin didn't respond, but he was listening.
"Maybe it was a ritual," Nero continued.
"One complex enough. Something forbidden. Ancient."
Merlin slowly shook his head.
"No," he said firmly.
"A ritual isn't enough."
Nero turned his head toward him.
"You're sure?"
"Completely."
Merlin opened his eyes and stared at the dark ceiling.
"A ritual can invoke, alter, even break local laws," he explained.
"But crossing worlds…"
He paused.
"That isn't force," he added. "It's authority."
Nero frowned.
"Authority?"
"Yes," Merlin replied.
"A ritual asks. Begs. Forces a crack."
He finally turned toward Nero.
"We weren't ripped away," he said.
"We were transferred."
The word hung in the air.
"Like someone took a file," he continued,
"and moved it to another folder."
Nero felt a chill run through him.
"That means someone knew exactly what they were doing."
Merlin nodded.
"And who they were bringing."
The silence returned, heavier than before.
"So…," Nero said slowly,
"it wasn't an accident."
"No."
"Not a desperate summoning."
"Neither."
Nero clenched his teeth.
"Then it was a god."
Merlin didn't answer right away.
"Not necessarily a god," he finally said.
"But something that plays in that league."
Nero let out a bitter laugh.
"Great. Unknown higher entity with interdimensional kidnapping capabilities."
"And a very bad sense of humor," Merlin added.
Nero looked at him.
"Do you think it was a single entity?"
Merlin thought.
"I don't know," he admitted.
"But I do believe one thing."
"What?"
Merlin lowered his voice.
"That it didn't bring us here for what we were…"
"But for what we could do here."
Nero reflected for a moment.
"So we're tools," he said.
Merlin shook his head.
"No," he corrected.
"We're puppets."
Nero closed his eyes.
"That means this world…"
"…is a stage and we're the puppets," Merlin finished.
The weight of that idea fell like an invisible slab.
"Do you think they're watching us right now?" Nero asked.
Merlin didn't look around.
He didn't make dramatic gestures.
"It doesn't matter," he replied.
"If they are, it's already too late."
Nero opened his eyes.
"Why?"
Merlin looked directly at him.
"Because you already started choosing," he said.
"And that's what they wanted to see."
The final silence wasn't uncomfortable.
It was aware.
Two people who understood that they hadn't come to that world to save it.
Not even to survive.
But to prove
how far they could break without stopping.
And somewhere, beyond the skies,
something — or someone —
was probably smiling.
…
The next morning.
The group was gathered at a high point where they could spy without being seen.
Lux yawned, clearly exhausted.
"I hate my life," he said jokingly.
Nero, who was lying back on a rock, replied with the same mocking tone:
"Then throw yourself off this cliff."
Sunday, the "always serious one," looked like he was about to vomit in a corner.
"By Zephyr… what the hell did I eat?"
Kōri looked at Sunday with pity. She was playing with a piece of ice she had created, shaping it and melting it at will.
"Uhm…"
Nero turned to look at Merlin.
"What is it?"
Merlin pointed downward.
Nero followed the direction of his finger.
The agricultural field stretched out like an orderly sea of dull green. Straight furrows, damp earth, bodies moving with unnatural slowness. There was no conversation. No laughter. Just work.
Too silent for so many people.
Among the slaves, one staggered.
He was thin, thinner than the others. He walked hunched over, dragging a tool that seemed to weigh more than his own body. He took two steps… three… and finally fell to his knees.
A guard noticed him.
He wasn't wearing heavy armor. Just worn leather and a sword at his belt. His posture wasn't rigid or vigilant. More tired than anything.
He approached the slave.
Even from a distance, the gesture was clear.
The slave lifted his head with difficulty. His lips moved. He spoke quickly. Desperately.
Merlin sharpened his gaze.
"He says everything hurts," he murmured. "And that he's thirsty."
Nero didn't respond.
The guard hesitated.
He looked around, as if checking whether anyone was watching. Then he nodded.
He said something to the slave — probably to wait — and turned halfway around.
That was when the slave stood up.
Not completely. Just enough.
His hand fumbled across the ground… and found a stone.
Lux frowned.
"Uh… I don't like this."
The guard had only taken three steps when the slave attacked.
It wasn't a clean strike. Nor a strong one. It was desperate.
The stone struck the back of the guard's head with a dry, hollow sound.
The body tensed for a second… then collapsed like an empty sack.
The silence of the field shattered.
Someone screamed.
Another slave recoiled in horror.
The attacker froze, panting, the stone still in his hand. He stared at the body as if he couldn't believe what he had done.
Nero felt his stomach tighten.
"He wasn't trying to kill him…," he murmured. "He just wanted water."
Merlin didn't look away.
"That doesn't matter."
From a nearby tower, a horn sounded.
The guards reacted immediately.
Two swords drawn. Orders shouted. Boots pounding against the damp earth.
The slave tried to flee.
He didn't get far.
An arrow pierced his thigh and sent him face-first into the mud. He screamed. Crawled. Cried.
A guard stepped on his back.
Another raised his sword.
Kōri looked away.
Sunday clenched his teeth.
Lux swallowed.
"Fuck…," he whispered.
The sword came down.
It wasn't a quick execution.
Nero closed his eyes at the second blow.
When he looked again, the body was no longer moving.
The kind guard was still on the ground.
No one went to help him.
One of the overseers looked at the corpse, clicked his tongue… and shouted an order.
Two slaves were forced to carry it out of the field.
Like a broken tool.
Merlin took a deep breath.
"That was the punishment," he said. "Not for the attack."
Nero looked at him.
"Then… why?"
"For forgetting his place."
The group remained silent.
Below, the work continued.
The slaves returned to the furrows. The guards to watching. The blood was absorbed by the earth.
As if nothing had happened.
Nero clenched his fists.
"That guard wasn't cruel."
"No," Merlin replied. "That's why he died."
Nero understood.
In that world, kindness wasn't a virtue.
It was a crack.
…
Night fell without ceremony.
There were no fires lit, no long conversations. Exhaustion imposed itself like a silent order. One by one, bodies gave in. Lux was the first to fall asleep, snoring shamelessly. Kōri settled nearby, the soft cold of her frost keeping insects away. Sunday lasted longer, but in the end exhaustion claimed him too.
Merlin slept on his back, motionless. Too motionless.
Nero didn't.
He stared at the dark sky, barely visible through the shadows of the elevated ground. The stars weren't familiar. None of them were. More than the day's violence, that was what kept him awake.
He closed his eyes. Opened them again.
His mind returned, uninvited, to the scene in the field.
The strike. The sound. The precision.
Nero frowned.
The distance had been considerable. Not only that: the field was poorly lit, covered in low mist and uneven shadows. Even with good eyesight, reading lips would have been difficult.
And Merlin hadn't just done it.
He had done it effortlessly.
Nero slowly turned his head toward where the mage slept.
"Very sharp vision…," he thought.
Too sharp.
He remembered other times. Small details Merlin had noticed before anyone else. Distant movements. Subtle changes in the environment. Looks that didn't align with the rest of the group.
It wasn't just magical perception.
It was… interpretation.
As if the world were an interface and Merlin knew exactly where to look.
Nero inhaled slowly.
—That doesn't come only from magic, he told himself silently. Not even from this world.
He thought about what Merlin had been. Computer engineering. Analysis. Patterns. Optimization.
Seeing not just with the eyes, but with the mind.
A chill ran down his spine.
"Did he bring that with him…," he thought, "or was it given to him here?"
He opened his eyes again and looked at the sky.
If someone had transferred them, chosen them, observed them…
Had they also been modified?
Nero clenched his jaw.
Merlin shifted slightly, as if the thought had brushed against him. He didn't wake up, but his breathing changed for a second before returning to normal.
Nero stayed still.
He didn't want to wake anyone. Not yet.
But the idea had already embedded itself in his mind.
Merlin didn't just see better.
He saw differently.
And in a world where seeing meant surviving…
That could make him the most dangerous piece on the board.
Nero closed his eyes again.
Sleep took its time.
…
Nero opened his eyes.
He didn't wake up.
That was the first thing he understood.
There was no sky, no ground, no horizon. Everything was gray. Not fog, not an enclosed room. An absolute gray, uniform, that cast no shadows and reflected no light.
Step.
Step.
Step.
The sound of his footsteps didn't exist, but he felt the movement in his body, as if walking were the only thing that still obeyed rules.
Then he saw it.
A white figure emerged from the void without transition, as if it had always been there and his mind had only just become capable of processing it.
It had no face. No eyes. No mouth.
And yet—
"Hello, Nero Alexue."
Nero's body reacted before his mind.
He threw himself backward, stumbling — not to attack or defend, but by pure instinct. The ancient reflex of prey sensing a predator.
His heart slammed violently against his chest.
How does it know my name?
Not the one he used here.
The other one.
Nero shrank slightly without realizing it. He didn't look weak… but he did look small.
"Who…?" he started. He corrected himself instantly, swallowing hard. "No. What are you?"
The white thing didn't answer.
It remained motionless, watching him for several seconds longer than normal. There was no expression, but Nero felt the attention like a weight pressing directly onto his bones.
Then, slowly, the entity raised one of its arms.
The arm exploded.
It didn't burst.
It simply ceased to exist.
No blood. No bone. No remains.
Where something had been, there was now nothing.
Nero felt the air — if there was air — get stuck in his lungs.
The terror was immediate. Primal. Total.
"Me…?" the entity murmured.
Nero felt the smile.
He didn't see it. He didn't hear it.
He felt it.
The silence became unbearable.
Not the comfortable silence of night. Not the tense silence before a fight.
It was an active silence, as if the entire world were waiting for his answer.
A full minute passed.
Nero didn't move.
"I am someone who can help you escape… only if you do me a favor."