The voice pulled me from expectation into disorientation. I braced myself to see the monster I had grown used to, but instead I sat in a lounge—its air heavy with the scent of old wood and smoke, its walls lined with shadows that seemed to breathe. Across from me sat… myself. Pale, almost corpse-like, with skin stretched thin and an eye patch covering one hollow socket. His gaze was sharp, unyielding, and it pierced me as though he could see deeper than flesh.
"I can't believe I'm going to be stuck looking like this until you die," he said, his tone dripping with disdain.
The words rattled inside me. My throat tightened. "What do you mean?"
"It's me, Gluttony, you imbecile!" His voice was the same guttural growl I had heard in battle, yet now it carried a mocking clarity. He sighed, the sound like wind through a crypt. "Do you know why I've brought you here?"
"How could I?" My voice cracked, betraying the unease crawling up my spine.
He gestured toward the glass orb on the table. Its surface shimmered, and within it I saw myself—blood-soaked, tearing through the capital. Screams echoed faintly from the vision, though none should have been audible. My stomach churned, bile rising.
"What is this? Why am I doing that?" My words trembled, my hands gripping the chair as though it might anchor me against the horror.
Gluttony's smile widened, predatory. "Your fate. Unless you learn to control the hunger gnawing at you. Haven't you noticed the ring repairing itself the more you eat?"
I swallowed hard, nodding, too shaken to speak.
"The more cracks close, the stronger I become. And the stronger you become. That massacre you saw? To me, it's paradise—an endless feast."
"I'd never eat a human!" I spat, though the conviction in my voice wavered.
"Not willingly," he said, leaning back with a casual menace. "But hunger is a tide. If you don't master it, it will drown you. Remember the dragon fight? You were in control then."
"Yes," I whispered. "Why? Is there a side effect?"
His grin was a blade. "If we're not in sync—like when your eyes glowed but the ring did not—you shorten your lifespan. Because I can't consume the mana you devour in that state. Instead, I take yours. And the more you drain, the heavier the toll on your body… and eventually, your soul."
The words struck like iron chains. My chest tightened, breath shallow. My soul… devoured by my own shadow.
"So how do we get in sync?" I asked, desperation bleeding through.
"That's for you to figure out," he said coldly. "This is the last time I'll speak freely. I only did it to honor one of the previous holders."
His form dissolved into smoke, and when I blinked, I was back in the real world. Aeola lay beside me, her hand slack against mine, her breathing soft and fragile. Carefully, I slipped free and stumbled to the bathroom.
The mirror reflected a stranger. My face was sharper, my eyes darker, as though shadows had taken root beneath my skin. I touched the glass, half-expecting it to ripple like the orb. My stomach twisted, a gnawing hunger clawing at me from within. I splashed water on my face, the cold biting against my skin, but it did little to wash away the dread.
A knock at the door jolted me.
Opening it, I found Aizen and Alya waiting. Their presence filled the room with tension, their eyes heavy with judgment.
We sat at the table. Aizen's gaze was like steel, Alya's like fire.
"I'll cut to the chase, boy," Aizen said. "We need you to go undercover at Sorren Academy."
My chest tightened. "Why me?"
Alya's voice was calm, deliberate. "You've only recently awakened. You're not yet known. They won't recognize you as part of this kingdom's guild."
"And you survived an S-ranked quest," Aizen added. "That proves your worth."
"I understand," I said, though doubt gnawed at me. "But I've only completed one quest. Aren't there others? I want to stay and care for Aeola."
Alya whispered to Aizen. He nodded. "Aeola's condition—she lost a great deal of mana in the cave. She fainted from low oxygen and high pressure during the fall, correct?"
The words hit me like a blade. I hadn't known. The chains during the dragon fight… they had drained her.
"In Sorren," Aizen continued, "there is an elixir that can restore her. I'll tell you where to find it—if you accept this mission. You'll also be paid two hundred silver coins."
The manipulation burned. Using Aeola's suffering as leverage was vile. Yet my heart clenched at the thought of her lying helpless, her mana drained.
"Fine," I said, voice low. "I accept. Where is the elixir?"
Aizen conjured a scroll, its parchment glowing faintly, and handed it to me. "That contains all the information you need. You leave in two days. Be ready."
He shook my hand, his grip firm, then left with Alya.
Closing the door, I turned to Aeola. She lay motionless, her face pale, her breath shallow. I sat beside her, holding her hand, whispering a silent vow. I will heal you. I will protect you. I kissed her palm, the warmth fleeting against my lips.
Then I rose, strapping on my adventurer's kit. My reflection in the mirror haunted me still. The hunger gnawed, the fear lingered.
One thought burned like fire in my chest: I must grow stronger—strong enough to protect her. Strong enough to protect her even from myself.