"And you gave her the golden aura?!"
Fate's voice thundered through the void.
The Young God winced, covering his ears like a scolded child. "I-I didn't mean to! I didn't even install it—it... it added itself!"
Fate's eyes darkened. "What do you mean it added itself? That's not possible."
He moved to the system interface, fingers flashing across the panel. Data lines poured in—soul merge confirmed, golden aura active, rare power initiated… and a third line blinking in red.
Fate leaned closer, eyes narrowing.
"What in the heavens…" he whispered.
Back at the Palace
The candles had burned low. The room was silent except for the shallow, irregular breaths of the girl lying in the grand bed. Aria's face was pale, her lips a faint shade of blue.
Healers stood by helplessly, shaking their heads.
"There's nothing more we can do," one whispered.
The duchess turned away, hiding the break in her composure.
Outside, the night deepened. Inside, the air thickened with dread.
A shadow moved silently through the doorway. No guards noticed. No wards flared. He didn't need permission.
His presence was cold—but his heart burned.
Icarus stood at her bedside, his eyes bloodshot—either from grief or rage or endless sleepless nights.
He knelt, brushing her hair from her forehead.
"Aria…" he whispered.
He took her limp hand and placed it against his cheek. Her fingers were like ice.
"You hate the cold, don't you?" he murmured.
He cast a warmth spell between his hands, trying to transfer the heat into her skin. For a second, colour touched her fingertips… then faded again.
It wasn't working.
His mind wandered to that memory.
She'd saved him once, a long time ago dragging him away from a group of bullies twice her size. Laughing. Bleeding. Alive.
He stared at her now. Fragile. Fading.
"I'll find him," he promised under his breath. "Or I'll find a way. Even if it means I die trying. Just… hold on, Aria. A little longer."
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
Then he placed a small bundle of lilies in the vase by her bedside and walked to the window.
He glanced back once.
And vanished.
Icarus kept his promise.
He burned everything.
Village after village, house after house—wherever he sensed even a flicker of that corrupted presence, fire followed. The South trembled beneath his fury, and still, it wasn't enough.
He couldn't find the source.
Not in one place. Not in one body.
It moved.
A shifting presence. A migrating soul? He wasn't sure. But he didn't need to be. If the monster was using vessels, he would burn the vessels. All of them.
Every scream reminded him of her face—ashen and still, lips turning blue. A memory that wouldn't leave his mind, seared behind his eyes.
So he silenced every scream with fire.
Another face caught in the blaze.
"You need to stop."
Alwin's voice cut through the roar of flames. His cloak was singed, boots coated in soot.
Icarus didn't turn. "Why should I?"
"They didn't do it. You know that. That thing… it's only using their bodies. They don't even know they're infected—"
"I DON'T CARE!" Icarus roared.
The fire flared around his arms like wings made of fury.
"I don't care!" he repeated, his voice cracking. "While she's lying there, barely breathing, these people… they're smiling. They're happy."
He torched another man, unmoved by the screams.
"I'll burn them all. Every last one. If I destroy the vessels—he won't have anywhere left to hide."
Alwin stared at him like he didn't recognize him anymore. "You're insane…"
He returned to the palace before dawn. Her room was quiet. Still.
Aria lay where he left her—fragile as ever, barely clinging to life. Her skin was paler now, her breath thinner. The golden aura flickered like a dying flame. Icarus knelt beside her again. He took her cold hand into his. Cast the warmth spell again.
"Would you be happy if I did this?" he whispered. "If I killed every last one of them?"
Her hand stayed limp. No answer. He closed his eyes, forehead resting against her palm.
"Then I'll keep going… until you wake up and tell me to stop."
Meanwhile…
"He's going nuts!" Fate shouted, slamming his hand against the translucent control panel as another red warning flared across the interface.
Lines of code bled across the screen like veins rupturing in a dying body.
He checked Aria's soul integrity again—5%.
Only five percent left.
"Look what you've done," Fate snapped, his voice cracking with fury.
Young God sat curled in the corner, tears streaking down his cheeks, clutching his hood like it could shield him from the truth. "I… I didn't know… I thought the merge would reset! I didn't mean for her to—"
Fate turned toward him, his voice sharp like lightning cutting through a storm. "You told her to die. You told a merged soul to die. There is no respawn now! You broke the rules of soul binding!"
"I was trying to fix it!" YG sobbed. "She wasn't supposed to stay!"
Fate closed his eyes for a moment, then exhaled deeply. "No. But now she has to. And she has to survive."
He turned back to the screen, narrowing his eyes at the glowing third red thread—one that had entwined itself around Aria's merged soul, pulsing faintly, steadily.
"…What the heavens is this?" he murmured.
A forbidden line.
One that hadn't been there when YG started this mess.
It pulsed again—quietly, ominously—as if listening.
Fate's voice dropped to a whisper. "She's the only one who can stop it now… But if I revive her again, I'll break the core coding. The entire system could collapse…"
He stared at the thread.
At the flickering 5%.
At the chaos unraveling inside and outside the game.
"Aria…" he whispered. "Don't die yet."