The beauty of imperfection is that it allows us to see our own humanity.
....
"See? That didn't go so terribly."
The Real Lynn stood with his arms folded, watching the scene play out,as his other self walking away with quiet dignity, like a man who knew he'd just survived something far heavier than any sword or spell.
"Wasn't what I hoped for .
But... not a bad outcome."
Beside him, the boy lounged with both hands behind his head, basking in the aftermath like a spirit that had seen it all before.
"You're kind of pitiful, you know.
All your family members,especially your dad is quite fucked up in the head.
No wonder you couldn't do anything even after living twice."
"SAY THAT AGAIN AND I'LL KICK YOUR HEAD INTO THE CLOUDS, YOU LITTLE WRETCH."
The kid's grin vanished as if it had never been there. For once, he looked as if he had been properly scolded.
He didn't reply. Just snapped his fingers.
The projection shimmered, flickered and disappeared.
The empty space echoed in Lynn's chest.
"Hey! You smug imp! Put that back!"
The kid didn't turn around. He strolled away like he'd won some private game, hands still behind his head, silent and relaxed.
"Come on! Just let me see what happens next."
The boy stopped, glanced back, and said dryly:
"Your free stream has ended. To resume, try using the ancient and powerful phrase: please."
He raised one hand and extended a single finger in mock reverence.
"And here's a noble gesture of thanks, for leeching off my mind without permission."
"That's no way to treat your elders" Lynn muttered.
The kid walked on without pause.
"If you want to be respected as an elder,
stop acting like a sulking child."
"So you're leaving me here now?"
"Exactly. Enjoy your stay in the Eternal Confusion Realm. It's built just for you."
Lynn narrowed his eyes.
"Why are people from these strange in-between realms always like this?
Always cryptic, always irritating."
The kid finally turned, his voice sharper now.
"Strange? You're the one who stumbled into my mind without knocking, dragging your storm of regrets and half-baked heroics. I didn't ask to share this space."
He jabbed a thumb at himself.
"And I'm not your father, your spirit guide, or your walking apology.
So here's your formal dismissal..."
He cleared his throat.
He jabbed a finger toward Lynn.
"So hear this well: I hereby banish you from my radiant presence."
Lynn blinked as if he'd just stepped into something unpleasant.
"Oh come on, brat. Don't be so dramatic. I know you're hiding a smile under that scowl."
"You'd need ten more lives and a divine map to guess what I'm thinking."
"This is your mind, right? I'll just poke around until I find something painful to throw back at you."
"Stupid idea. But fitting. You're just as dumb in this world as the last."
"Say that to your father,you damn kid."
The kid stopped cold. His voice dropped low.
"We both saw what your father did.
An irrational tyrant, dressed in wisdom. He asked his own son to die without reason, without mercy."
Lynn went quiet. No clever retort. No fire left in the throat.
"You should be grateful," the boy said. "You're just watching this play out.
Not living it."
Lynn clenched his fists. His thoughts were too loud, too raw to speak.
"What's your problem anyway?" the boy continued.
"You mad that he didn't fight back? That he didn't explode in glory and wrath like you would have?"
He stepped closer.
"Your other self has no magic. No power. Just bones, breath, and bad memories.
So tell me,what would you have done?"
"Would you have bowed when your father said: 'Son, die quietly for me, would you?"
Lynn stood frozen, pride screaming from inside, but nowhere to go.
He closed his eyes.
And finally, the words came not in rage, but in truth.
"You're right."
A deep breath. Heavy. Regretful.
"I overreacted. It's my fault."
He opened his eyes.
But the kid was gone.
Nothing remained but the distant shimmer of fractured memories.
Lynn stood alone in the vast stretch of mindspace, and for the first time, he realized just how endless it felt.
Minutes or maybe hours passed by,
Lynn kept on walking alone.
His steps echoed softly on invisible stone as he passed ruins of moments. Some clear as crystal. Others collapsed in on themselves, too broken to recognize. A house with no door.
Faces blurred in time. Whispers with no mouths.
The more he walked, the more lost he became. The terrain didn't change, but neither did it repeat. It was like a forgotten plain made of someone's memories and someone's pain… and maybe, a bit of his own.
He passed a cracked statue with a face half-shattered.
The weight in his chest pressed deeper.
"This isn't going to be easy."
His voice, though quiet, felt swallowed by the sky above.
"And it's not going to be good either."
He turned a slow circle. Every direction looked the same. Empty. Faded. Endless.
"I need to know the exact way forward," he muttered. "Or I'll be walking like this… maybe forever."
A pause.
Then, in his thoughts:
"Okay, kid… you're ....right .
I'm impatient."
"I got carried away watching someone else wearing my skin do things I wouldn't."
"And I hated being called pathetic.
But you were right."
"I am pathetic sometimes."
"It was my wish to begin with… but I didn't expect pride to follow me here too."
A voice spoke behind him.
"Glad you're trying to understand."
Lynn spun, startled.
The boy stood there reappeared out of thin air but not smirking this time. His face was serious, tired.
He looked at Lynn like he was trying to figure out if he should keep trying or just give up.
"You're walking blind" the boy said. "This place stretches until you forget what you're looking for."
Lynn looked at the endless ruins.
He understood now. This was no path. No journey. It was a maze made from someone else's soul. And his presence here was shaking it.
"Then I need direction Or I'll be wandering here forever."
The kid gave a slow nod.
"This place doesn't welcome visitors. Not ones like you. You remind it that it's broken."
Lynn lowered his eyes.
"That's fair."
"If you're going to keep going," the boy added, "try looking at the big picture. And do it with a bit more observation."
Lynn gave a faint smile. Just a small one.
He didn't know why, but… he was glad to see the boy again.
"Okay, kid...What's next?"
The boy didn't answer.
He just turned and this time, Lynn followed.
.....
"I feel quite sad for you, Mr. Impatient," the kid said, giving Lynn a look that was somewhere between pity and amusement.
Lynn raised an eyebrow. "You're about to lecture me, aren't you?"
"Let me break it down for you" the kid continued, walking around Lynn like he was inspecting a piece of livestock. "Your relatives are mentally illogical.
You, on the other hand, are insecurely impatient.
A rare combination.
You severely lack awareness. You have the grace of a brick, and you hate observing your surroundings.
It's a wonder you haven't been eaten by something already."
Lynn exhaled slowly. "You sure you're not just making things up as you go?"
The kid tilted his head with exaggerated curiosity. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I miss something?
You were cursed by fate, right? That's what you said.
But I think the curse is still in full effect."
"You're really pushing me today, kid."
"Oh, you noticed?" The kid put a hand to his chest and pretended to be shocked. "And here I thought you were slow on the uptake.
But I guess that's what happens when you're stuck in your own little world of bitterness."
Lynn gritted his teeth. "I'm stuck here because of you, remember?"
"You should be grateful," the kid said with a grin. "If you were left alone here, you might've seen some things… uncomfortable things."
Lynn just sighed.
"What 'uncomfortable things'?"
The kid leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Ever wondered what it's like when a mind turns against itself, when it starts questioning its own existence? When your thoughts turn sharp enough to cut you apart?"
Lynn took a step back, but the kid's gaze never left him.
"I'm guessing that's supposed to be scary?"
"Oh, it's not scary," the kid said, shrugging. "Just… unsettling. It's the kind of thing you'd wish you hadn't seen when you get out of here."
Lynn looked at him, unamused. "That sounds like a bunch of nonsense to me."
The kid grinned wider. "Of course it does. The real question is, are you going to step through that door and find out for yourself?"
Lynn stared at the door. He didn't trust it, but something tugged at him.
"Fine. Let's see if your creepy stories are worth my time."
The kid clapped his hands, and the door shifted, settling into place like it had been waiting for this moment.
"Oh, you won't regret it. Or maybe you will. Either way, it's going to be fun watching you squirm."
Lynn was already halfway to the door when the kid spoke again, his tone turning serious.
"You think your suffering makes you special. Like fate owes you something for surviving what it's thrown at you.
But pain doesn't automatically make you wiser. It just makes you… weary."
Lynn stopped, staring at him. "What are you trying to say?"
"You think you've seen it all," the kid continued, voice softening. "But you're still missing the point. Your other self,
he's not the problem. It's you. You won't understand what's in front of you until you stop running from it."
Lynn's frustration flared. "I never said it was all about me. I just want this mess to end."
The kid gave a small, knowing smile. "You'll learn soon enough that the end isn't as simple as you think. But it's okay. People often hate what they don't understand."
Lynn couldn't help but mutter
"And I'm supposed to trust you?"
The kid tilted his head, giving Lynn an unreadable look. "Trust isn't the point. Understanding is."
He nodded toward the door. "Now, go on. You wanted to see what's behind it, didn't you?"
Lynn hesitated for a moment before stepping forward, his hand brushing the cold wood of the door.
"Just remember," the kid called out with a smirk, "no turning back once you open it. Don't say I didn't warn you."
Lynn gave him one last look, then pushed the door open.
Lynn stood before the door, his hand hovering just above the handle. For a moment, he didn't move. The silence pressed in.
Behind him, the kid watched, unusually quiet.
Then Lynn did something… unexpected.
He turned around, walked straight over to the kid and hugged him.
Tightly.
The kid went stiff.
"Wh.....what are you...?!
Are you dying?
Did something bite you?!
Is this some weird magic fever?!"
Lynn didn't say anything at first. His voice came low, quiet, barely more than a breath.
"I've carried everything alone for too long. I don't even know why I'm here anymore.
The kid blinked, stunned.
"Oh no. Emotional collapse huh.
Is this some kind of trap? You're going to explode, aren't you?"
But Lynn didn't explode. He just held on tighter.
For a fleeting moment, the kid patted Lynn's back with the awkward grace of someone comforting a wild animal.
"There, there," he muttered.
"You're not completely hopeless. Just mostly."
Then, just as the kid tried to wiggle free, Lynn grabbed him tighter.
"Wait—HEY—"
"You're coming with me, you smirking brat" Lynn growled, dragging the both of them toward the door.
The kid squirmed like a cat being forced into a bath. "ABSOLUTELY NOT.
I guide people to the door. I don't go in! It's against the mystical rules of... of narrative structure!"
"I don't care"
Lynn said with a wild look in his eye.
"If I'm walking into the mind of another me, I'm not doing it alone. You're part of this mess. You're coming."
"No I'm NOT!" the kid shouted, kicking his feet as Lynn hauled him forward. "I'm a metaphor! A spiritual echo! I'm not built for hands-on trauma experience!"
Lynn had already opened the door.
"LET GO OF ME, YOU EMOTIONALLY UNSTABLE TREE LOG!"
"You talk too much" Lynn muttered.
"I WAS DESIGNED TO TALK TOO MUCH!"
The door swallowed them both in a flash of light and memory.
And just before it closed behind them, the kid's voice echoed one last time.
"YOU'RE PAYING FOR MY THERAPY AFTER THIS!"
The world lurched sideways.
For a split second, there was nothing but just wind and white and weightlessness. Then, all at once, they landed.
They landed with a dull thud, the echo of the door's closing fading behind them.
Lynn staggered slightly, blinking against the harsh glow that flooded his vision. Everything was… unnatural. Crisp and cold and humming.
Lynn stumbled, boots scuffing against unfamiliar ground. Cold stone, smooth as polished glass.
And light. So many lights.
He looked up and froze.
A massive building of stone, glass, and metal loomed in front of them. Letters glowed on its side like runes made of fire:
"City Hospital"
Emergency Entrance.
The streets around them were alive with motion. Strange horseless carts no, machines rumbled by in perfect lines, their glowing eyes slicing the darkness.
The people walked fast, spoke into thin air, wore cloths of every color and cut tight, strange, and shimmering.
Tall towers blinked in the distance like lighthouses from another realm.
Lynn turned in a slow circle, mouth slightly open.
"What… in the gods' names… is this place?"
The kid folded his arms, unimpressed. "Welcome to the land of humming boxes and overpriced coffee.
You're standing in front of a hospital, by the way. That's where they fix broken bones and hand out paperwork."
Lynn didn't even hear him. He was staring at a passing city bus.
"That… that thing just moved without beasts! Without wheels I can even see! How does it float? Is there air magic in its belly?"
"It's called an engine. It runs on fuel, not fairy dust" the kid muttered.
Lynn stepped aside just in time to avoid a cyclist zooming past.
Lynn just stood there.
"What… is this?" he whispered.
Behind him, the kid didn't say anything at first. He just crossed his arms and watched.
Lynn turned again, eyes darting from one direction to another taking in the towering structures with smooth walls and endless windows, the blaring horns from distant vehicles, the blur of people walking fast and talking into thin air.
"Those… those carts have no horses. That one just blinked red! Red! For no reason!"
"That's a traffic light," the kid muttered.
"And those clothes!"
Lynn pointed at a group of teens in hoodies and sneakers.
"Are they wearing cloaks backwards?"
"Not cloaks. Hoodies. For warmth.
And fashion. Sort of."
Lynn crouched suddenly, peering at a sewer grate as if it were a puzzle box.
"Do their drains have… bars? Why? To trap rats?"
The kid raised an eyebrow, watching him like someone watching a puppy discover its own tail.
Lynn stood up again, still spinning slowly, watching a plane draw a blinking path across the night sky. He took a sharp breath.
"This place… it's like magic, but without mana. Like someone dared to build a city inside a lightning storm."
The kid's sarcasm paused for a moment. He just looked at Lynn,really looked at him.
That flicker of awe in Lynn's eyes. The way he smiled at strangers passing by. The curiosity. The wonder.
The kid didn't smile back. He just sighed softly and said
"So this is what you look like when you're not sulking."
Lynn didn't seem to hear.
"How does this exist? Where does the power come from? How do they build such towers without earth-shapers?"
"It's called engineering," the kid said. "And sweat. And occasionally... corruption."
Lynn's voice dropped, barely a murmur. "They built all this… without mana."
"Yeah. People here don't bend the world with magic. They do it with ideas. Tools. Trial and error."
The kid watched Lynn's face carefully. "You like it here?"
"I don't know if I like it"
Lynn said, still staring upward.
"But it feels like a place where… possibility never stopped."
There was a quiet moment between them. The noise of the city buzzed on, indifferent to their presence.
Then the kid spoke, voice a little more serious. "You could stay. No one's forcing you to go back."
Lynn turned to him, thoughtful.
He didn't answer.
Lynn wandered forward like a wide-eyed villager stumbling into a royal court for the first time.
He squatted to examine a sewer grate, reached out to gently tap a fire hydrant, and stared in amazement at a vending machine.
"A tiny cabinet that gives food… without a shopkeeper?" he whispered.
The kid sighed and leaned against a nearby signpost.
Lynn whirled around, eyes gleaming. "And those towers in the sky,are they for watching enemies? Sending messages? Can people live in them?"
The kid smirked.
"Yes. No.
And unfortunately, yes."
Lynn stood there for a moment, chest rising and falling, utterly captivated.
"It's beautiful" he said.
"So strange. So… advanced. I never thought such a world could exist."
The kid's expression softened for a moment.
"Why don't you stay here then?" he asked quietly.
"Forget the fight. Forget the curse.
It's peaceful, isn't it? Safer."
Lynn just looked around again, drinking it all in the hum of streetlights, the rustle of coats in the wind, the sound of footsteps echoing down the clean stone walk.
Then… he smiled.
With absolutely no warning, he grabbed the kid's hand and yanked him along.
"Come on!" he grinned. "Let's explore!"
"Wha—wait—WAIT—I am not your tour guide!"
"You are now!" Lynn said, laughing like a child let loose in a festival.
"I swear, you were brooding ten minutes ago! What happened to 'the burden of fate'?!"
"I'll carry it later. Right now, I want to see how many enchantments this world has packed into a lantern post!"
"Oh great. We're doing joy now.
My least favorite emotion."
They walked.
Well, Lynn walked, the kid was being dragged through the streets, one dazzled and curious, the other grumbling and snarky.
And somewhere between the honking cars and glowing signs, the curse didn't feel so heavy.
At least not for now.
They disappeared into the city crowd,one wide-eyed and full of awe, the other grumbling, but staying close.
And for a while, neither of them said anything more.
They didn't need to.