"I have always...been...toyed with..."
"Even though it was the case."
"I always accept it..."
"But now..."
"I..."
In the darkness of the velvet lining, Liliya thought began to sink deep.
"That day...did I really move? On my own?"
A thought that has been stuck in his mind. A desire.
"I want to feel that again..."
Four days had passed since that moment. That day he moved.
Click.
The briefcase creaked open, light pouring out like a heavenly glow, flooding the darkness.
The sound of rain and fighting reached his ears.
Liliya's glassy eyes reflected tall, lanky, shadowy figures fighting front of him.
"Lost Shadow..." He whispered, in the lonely void of isolation.
Four Lost Shadows were brawling with Grathe, though they were no match for him.
He destroyed them effortlessly with a single mana-coated punch.
But the real problem wasn't their strength.
It was their numbers.
They kept coming, pouring endlessly from the darkness of the forest.
"Dance in the heavens' pour." Grathe's voice cut through his thoughts.
Then, from the briefcase, Liliya leapt out and began to dance in the rain.
Twirling, spinning, jumping, his hands moved in graceful, fluid motions, weaving patterns through the air like slik in the wind.
Mana began to swril and mix, radiating with a bright golden glow.
A golden glow that syphoned and recycled the surrounding mana, directing it towards Grathe.
Then the energy began to buff both Grathe and Ifa, who stood at the rear, shielding them from the three other Lost Shadows.
"Why are there so many Lost Shadows? Where am I?" He questioned aloud, though no one could hear it.
"The Rain...and the Lost Shadows..."
His mind began grinding like rusted gears. "Am I in Hydrgateia?" He asked himself.
"Captain...what should we do?" Ifa yealld.
"If this is the place I think it is...then only AoE stun can stop them." Liliya began to think.
"What if we try to freeze them?" Grathe asked.
"It'll take at least the second or more to chant and I'll be a sitting duck!" Ifa shouted, forming a twin-layered barrier.
"And not to mention, you'd all be caught in the area of effect." She added quickly.
"I said we, so I will act as your substitute chant." Grathe replied.
"And as for the area of effect, we can create an exclusion zone."
With that, he punched forward, sending a shockwave of mana. That obliterated eleven eleven shadows in an instant.
"Even if you know the freeze spell, we'll still need a barrier or at least mana reinforcement to survive it!" Ifa said, her first layer began to crack under the pounding of eighteen shadows.
"We can finish the chant in three seconds. We'll use healing potion right after." Grathe insisted.
"I..I can help." A voice called out.
It was the driver, an old man, emerging shakily from the carriage.
"I'm not good with magic...but I do know how to use reinforcement magic." He said.
The old man began to raise his hands, and mana started to flow from his palms.
It was a weak reinforcement magic, but they had no choice.
The barrier was lowered, and both Ifa and Grathe stood still.
Ifa began to chant followed by Grathe, as rain around them started to freeze, all except the area near them.
The Lost Shadows lunged in, attacking furiously.
The reinforcement magic offered only light protection, barely enough to stop fatal wounds.
The old man's hand began to shake..
"He...he can't do this." Liliya shouted, eyes wide as the old man's body trembled violently.
"I want to help..." His mind cried.
"Why am I so useless?" He muttered to himself.
"I..."
Bip.
A sudden jolt of pain ripped through his soul.
"I want to help..." Even as agony struck him, that one thought consumed him
Then, his right hand began to move. Not pushed, not pulled, but if his own will.
Mana surged through his body.
"Did I just move...?" He thought, stunned.
But there was no time to think. The old man collapsed. Grathe and Ifa stood exposed.
In Liliya's mind, there was only one desire.
To protect them.
And through that will, a bright light burst from Ifa and Grathe.
It wasn't reinforcement magic, but this time it was mana reinforcement.
With that, they completed their chant, and a brilliant flash of light engulfed the entire forest, freezing everything within a hundred-meter radius.
The forest shimmered like a diamond as the rain struck the frozen tree.
Liliya was thrown to the ground by the shockwave, his small frame hitting the earth with a dull thud. No one seemed to notice his quite act of aid.
Ifa staggered, breath ragged, then turned sharply towards the old man.
"Hey, old ma—"
Ifa froze mid-sentence.
Liliya's attention shifted towards Grathe. He frozen too
Then.
A glitching portal tore itself open right in front of Liliya.
"Hahaha..." A wild, distorted laugh echoed from the swirling glitch.
"I can't believe you're so lazy..." A familiar voice followed.
A tall figure stepped out from the portal, his face flickering like a void filled with static.
It was Perspective Nine.
"Me...?" Liliya asked, confused.
"Not you." He replied, this time the glitchy voice was gone.
He reached out and slowly dragged his index fingers accross Liliya's porcelain cheek.
Where he touched, it began to glitch and flicker.
"Ahhh...ahh—" Liliya began to scream in agony.
"You're just a blank canvas." The man said, his tone dripping with mockery.
"I'm talking to the artist, Perspective One."
He began to hum, softly, in rhythm with Liliya's screams.
"Why...are you doing this?" Liliya cried.
"You mean...why am I humming?" The man asked, tilting his head.
He placed his hand gently on Liliya's head and then made Liliya nod in response to his own question.
Liliya's head began to glitch. He screamed again.
"I'm just waiting for them to answer." The man said calmly.
The man stood up and began to fix his tie.
"Like I thought... you're boring. No original ideas at all." He said, pulling out his book.
"And you [REDACTED] you're nothing but fate's Plaything...a prisoner of Perspective One." His voice remained calm, but the edge of anger cut through each word.
"I truly pity you." He added sarcastically, mocking even the idea of sympathy.
He stepped back into the portal, flipping open his book as gust of wind tore through reality like paper.
"Sorry for the early departure." He said, voice dripping with faux sweetness.
"But I like...no—" He paused.
"I love playing with you. Maybe next time... we'll have more fun."
He then tilted his head. "And here's a little advice, my dear Perspective Eight..." He paused.
The sound of tearing paper echoed as he ripped a page from his book.
"Don't trust anyone. Especially not the demon god who reincarnated you."
And with that, the portal snapped shut behind him.
Silence returned.
"Hey, old man, are you alright?" Ifa called out, breaking the silence.
"That rude of you. Are you alright, Gramps?" Grathe added, hurrying over to the collapsed figure.
Ifa scoffed. "Rude? You're calling him Gramps!"
Grathe shot back without missing a beat. "Better than old man."
As he spoke, he gently lifted the old man's unconscious body off the ground.
While the two bickered, more questions brewed in Liliya's mind.
"Am I truly alone...? Is everyone plotting against me?"
"Who can I even trust...?"
"Am I... truly me?"
"What did he mean by Blank canvas?"
The thought spiraled, each one whispering louder than the last, a cruel reminder of just how lost he really was.
"Do you even know how to drive a carriage?" Ifa asked, watching as Grathe carefully placed the unconscious old man inside, the only one who knew how to handle an Azhinx-drawn carriage.
"No clue." Grathe admitted, completely unfazed.
Ifa's eye twitched, jabbing a finger toward Liliya. "What about that thing? Can the doll drive the carriage?" she asked.
"Puppets can only do what their puppeteer can," Grathe said calmly.
"So, in short, no."
"So we have to wait for the old man to wake up." Ifa muttered, climbing into the carriage.
"If we do that, the ice will melt soon." She added, irritation creeping into her voice.
"And this damn rain isn't helping either…"
"At least we don't have to fight Lost Shadows in the middle of it." Grathe replied, lifting Liliya gently from the ground.
Ifa opened her mouth to respond, but the sharp sound of footsteps crunching across the ice froze them both in place.
Grathe turned toward the source of the sound.
"On guard." He commanded, and Liliya immediately straightened at his signal.
Ifa leaned out from the carriage, eyes narrowing.
From the edge of the forest, a figure emerged. White-haired, bloodied, and bruised. Crimson streaked down his forehead, dripping steadily onto the frozen ground.
Liliya's porcelain face remained blank, unmoving. But inside, he was shaken. That face. He knew it.
"Hey, kid... you alright?" Grathe asked, concerned threading through his voice.
"He shouldn't be here…" Liliya thought.
"Don't worry about me. I'm fine." The white-haired man said as he stepped closer, blood still trailing down his face.
"My name's Gray. Gray Elmon" he added, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish grin.
Liliya's expression didn't change. But deep within the silence of his porcelain shell, he was screaming.
"Why is the main character of the novel here?!"
Grathe stayed on guard, eyes narrowing.
"Why are you here, kid?"
"I was journeying toward Dorja An Lago." Gray replied, his tone calm.
"But I was ambushed by the shadows." He paused, then added quietly. "Then...everything froze. So I came looking for the source."
"So, are you alone?" Ifa asked from inside the carriage, her voice carrying through the rain.
Gray nodded. "Yeah."
"Why do you want to go to Dorja?" she continued.
"I'm looking for my master." Gray replied, brushing a bit of dried blood from his cheek. "She's currently in Dorja."
Liliya's porcelain lips didn't move, but a quiet gasp escaped his mind.
"Wait… his master… So-Wong is in Dorja?" he muttered silently to himself.
"Do you know how to drive a carriage?" Grathe asked, glancing at Gray.
"Yeah, a little… want me to help?" He replied.
Grathe gave a nod, and with that, Gray ran toward him.
Liliya remained still, his porcelain face unreadable but inside, his thoughts raced.
"I know the story has completely gone off-rail."
"And So-Wong being in Dorja means only one thing."
"Dorja is going to get destroyed pretty soon."
The memory of the novel played behind his eyes like an unstoppable vision.
"So-Wong has found her father's killer… and that means she'll soon find the secret cult."
"And the cult will retaliate by finally summoning the Hollow Tree… Rumina, Destroying Dorja An Lago."
He swallowed hard.
"Things are moving too fast. Way too fast."
"I have to stop it..." he thought to himself.
"Wait... what am I thinking? Saying I should stop it, was that even my own thought?"
"Or am I just being controlled?"
"I hate this..." he muttered internally.
"I'm not going to be your puppet."
"I won't be a plaything anymore."
Meanwhile, in Dorja.
Hundreds of soldiers lay dead or dying and among them, was Kael, missing his right arm, blood pouring from his open wounds.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked, his voice weak but steady as he stared at the figure with pink twintails.
Before she could answer, a massive fireball roared toward her, followed by a swift kick from Aliza.
But the kick never landed. The fire fizzled into harmless embers…and Chloe vanished with it, like smoke in the wind.
"Tch…" Aliza clicked her tongue in frustration.
Kael, covered in blood, managed a pained smile. In Aliza's arrival, he saw hope. But that hope quickly turned to ash.
Screams erupted from the direction of the residential district.
Without hesitation, Aliza sprinted toward the noise. Her eyes widened in horror as chaos
unfolded before her citizens screaming, running, crying.
A red-hooded figure chased them through the streets.
They were cultists.
And not just them. Other groups joined in, thugs, bandits, looters. They tore through the district, kidnapping, stealing, destroying everything in their path.
But as soon as she rushed in to stop them, the cultists began activating their teleport tickets, vanishing one after another.
At the same time, the kidnapped citizens began disappearing too, each one had a teleport ticket forcibly stuck to their body.
In seconds, they were gone.
Aliza clicked her tongue in frustration as she looked around the streets.
Only a handful of citizens remained, those who had hidden, and the lucky few who had outrun the chaos.
And soon, Kael came limping toward Aliza, blood still dripping from the stump where his arm had been.
"Grandmaster…" he murmured, before collapsing.
She rushed to his side, quickly checking his pulse.
To her relief, he was still alive.
She looked up at the sky, confused and frustrated.
"What is your goal, Chloe?" she whispered under her breath.