Morning fog covered the city of Verlyn like a thin shroud. Even the sunlight seemed reluctant to pierce the cold cobblestone streets.
I didn't sleep—more precisely, I wasn't allowed to sleep.
Every time I closed my eyes, there was a strange voice speaking inside my head.
Not my voice.
Not a voice I had ever heard before.
"Marchaos awaits you…
He wants to return to your body…
You must act first…"
I opened my eyes, my face wet with sweat.
Lyona sat on a chair near the window, sword on her lap. She had kept watch all night, looking at me as if I were a puzzle that could explode at any moment.
When I woke, she immediately stood.
"Makoto… did the voice appear again?"
I straightened up and nodded slightly.
"Clearer. Like… like he's whispering from a very distant place."
Lyona gritted her teeth.
"Something is targeting you. This isn't normal."
Before I could answer, screams outside the inn shattered the morning.
Metal breaking, people shouting, and a crash that made the window shake.
We looked at each other.
Without speaking, we ran outside.
---
The main street of Verlyn was chaos.
People were running, merchants dropping their goods, and city guards dragging citizens away from the center of the disturbance.
In the midst of the uproar—on the cracked stone road—stood ten figures in a circular formation.
They looked human… but also not.
Pale faces, thin bodies as if dried by time. Eyes empty, reflecting no light. And most terrifying of all: their clothing came from different eras.
One wore ancient armor.
One a leather adventurer's coat from twenty years ago.
One wore modern clothing, similar to the jackets from Makoto's world.
The rest looked like fragments of history ripped from their own places.
Lyona slightly raised her sword.
"They're not from here."
I swallowed, feeling a cold pressure within my chest.
"They are… Fog Wanderers."
Lyona was shocked.
"Those missing people? The ones sucked into the fog 1 to 20 years ago?!"
I didn't have time to answer.
One of the ten stepped forward.
The voice that came from its mouth… was fractured.
Like an echo from a place without air.
"Sakuya Makoto."
I froze.
"We are the ten chosen by the Fog.
We who disappeared.
We who survived."
They spoke one after another, but in the same rhythm—
as if one mind controlled ten bodies.
Lyona shifted her stance, standing slightly in front of me.
"What do you want?"
The figure slowly lifted its face.
"We are here… under Marchaos' command."
My blood stopped flowing.
Lyona cursed.
"Nonsense."
But the figure kept speaking, emotionless:
"Marchaos ordered us to erase Sakuya Makoto and Lyona."
A shiver ran through me.
Before I could say anything—the space around me trembled.
As if a thin layer of reality was being peeled open.
Not in front.
Not above.
Beside me, like the air itself cracked.
And through the fracture, a black silhouette appeared.
Tall body.
Faceless.
A cloak rolling like dark fog.
Marchaos.
Or another version of Makoto.
Or the future.
Or something worse.
But most important:
He was not in this world.
He was only visible through a dimensional tear.
Observing.
Lyona gasped.
"Makoto… you see that?!"
"Yes," I whispered.
And as I looked at him, the voice in my head shattered like a thousand needles:
"That is you."
"That is your future."
"If you do not erase him, he will erase you."
I shut my eyes, fighting rising nausea.
Another Fog Wanderer stepped forward.
"We are Marchaos' hand."
"No…" I whispered.
"We come to complete the cycle."
"Stop…" my breath was heavy.
"We were ordered to kill you."
Lyona grabbed my shoulder.
"Makoto, this doesn't make sense! He's just observing us from another dimension—he isn't doing anything!"
But the next sentence from the Fog Wanderers…
stabbed into my mind.
"Marchaos says you two must be erased before it's too late…"
I stiffened.
"Because if Sakuya Makoto unites with himself… the world collapses."
Lyona pressed closer to me.
"Makoto, listen to me. This is a trap. They—"
Suddenly one Fog Wanderer interrupted, its voice fractured, as if fighting control:
"Not true…"
"We… do not hear Marchaos…"
"There is another voice… higher…"
"More forceful…"
Its tone turned into a lament.
"The voice… of the Main God…"
All the other Fog Wanderers snapped their heads toward it,
like puppets detecting script violation.
The figure clutched its head.
"I—we—were forced… to use… Marchaos' name…"
CRACK.
Its neck broke on its own.
Its body fell silently.
Lyona stepped back, eyes wide.
"That… that's forced control."
I could hardly breathe.
The remaining Fog Wanderers raised their empty faces.
"The order remains."
"Erase Sakuya Makoto."
"Erase Lyona."
"In Marchaos' name."
I looked toward the dimensional rift where Marchaos stood.
He did not move.
Did not speak.
Did not help.
Only watched from afar.
As if knowing that even the smallest movement could worsen this manipulation.
Lyona held my face, forcing me to look at her eyes, not at the rift.
"Makoto. This is the Main God's plan. He wants you to believe Marchaos is the enemy."
I closed my eyes, trembling.
If that was true…
the Main God was weaving lies to make me hate myself.
The last Fog Wanderer whispered faintly:
"We… are victims.
The Main God… wants you to kill each other.
Because if you unite… he falls."
Then its entire body turned into black fog and vanished.
Only silence remained.
I stood frozen, Lyona holding my hand tightly, and in the dimensional rift…
Marchaos still watched me in silence.
Saying nothing.
Asking nothing.
As if testing:
Would I believe the lie… or see the hidden truth?
!