I usually prided myself on maintaining my sense of rationality, no matter the situation. I had forcibly trained myself to do so.
After all, anyone who couldn’t keep their composure in dire moments would inevitably slip up.
I had seen countless comrades die that way.
But now, as I stared at the photographs in front of me, I found myself unable to comprehend why.
Why did this stir something so uncontrollable within me?
All sorts of emotions bottled up began to surface. Guilt. Sorrow. Pity. And something else—something that made my heart ache in a way I couldn’t fully explain.
But I understood the circumstances.
Vanitas Astrea had loved this woman. Those unfamiliar emotions lingered within me.
But…. there was something more. A burning sensation that seemed to clog my thoughts.
Where have I felt this before…?
Then it hit me.
“Ah.”
It was anger.
A searing rage that clawed at my insides.
How could this shitty bastard of a person have the audacity to love anyone?
How could Vanitas Astrea find love after everything he had done to Charlotte? The sin he had committed to Astrid?
He had no right to love.
No right to be happy—even for a fleeting second.
“Hahaha.”
The way their pitiful romance ended was exactly what he deserved.
And yet, seeing the smile plastered on that woman’s face in the photographs was… painful.
These weren’t my emotions. It was frustrating.
Rummaging through this pile of mementos of Arwen kept by Vanitas, I picked up something peculiar.
It was a page. From the jagged corners, it seemed to have been ripped off a notebook or some sort.
“….”
The handwriting wasn’t mine. It didn’t take a genius to know who wrote it.
[I’m sorry, Professor.]
It was Arwen’s.
My heart sank, and a heavy weight seemed to have wrapped around my chest as my fingers unknowingly tightened around the page.
[It was my fault. I know you took the dark magic rumors upon yourself to protect me. Because of that, the accusations against you only worsened. I’m sorry you had to go through all those interrogations. It was all my fault. I should’ve realized it the moment you went silent the day I showed you.]
“….”
[I know why you did it. You couldn’t find any other way to stop me. So you cut off my opportunities. Did you see it, Professor? I know you did. Otherwise, I might go crazy trying to figure out why you betrayed and humiliated me in front of everyone…]
Crumple—
Creases began to form on the page as the memories surged within my head. I couldn’t quite place it properly, that was the nature of these memories. They were all fragmented and hazy, even the voices were muffled.
But I understood.
Vanitas Astrea had seen it. He had witnessed Arwen preparing to embark on the path of dark magic.
‘Stop this, Arwen.’
Vanitas Astrea’s voice echoed in my head.
——I know what I’m doing, professor. But trust me, I know how to hide it. This way, I can progress magic at an astonishing pace. Wouldn’t you like to see that?
….Followed by Arwen’s response.
[Have you heard of the phrase, “right person, wrong timing”? That’s what you are to me, Professor. If only we’d met under different circumstances, perhaps things would’ve been different.]
“….”
[Don’t be sad. Don’t blame yourself. I know you’ve had a lot going on too. I’m sorry I only added to your burdens.]
Flick—!
The page shifted slightly in my grip as I continued to read.
[If only I hadn’t met you, professor, I could have kept living. But I don’t regret it. Because that short time with you had been the only moment I could be myself.]
With a snap of my fingers, flames ignited the photographs—the mementos of Vanitas’s time with Arwen.
[But I’ll make it right. I’ll disappear from your life, and I’ll redirect all the attention to myself.]
“….”
I had enough. I didn’t want to read anymore. I tucked Arwen’s letters into my coat pocket and turned away.
Crackle—
The fire slowly consumed the photographs, piece by piece.
Each image—each memory—gnawed at my mind.
“….”
My heart pounded painfully for a woman I had never met. The ache deepened with every sound of crackling flames.
Despite the guilt clawing at my insides, one thing was certain.
I could never sympathize with Arwen.
Nor could I ever sympathize with Vanitas Astrea.
Perhaps it was because of my attachment to Charlotte. After all, I had a younger sister once. Though now, I could no longer remember her voice.
But I knew the feeling.
A girl who was sometimes annoying, who called me “oppa,” who cried whenever I didn’t have time for her after school. A girl who would cling to me and tell me I was the best brother in the world.
But that girl wasn’t Charlotte.
Charlotte wasn’t her. Maybe I had confused them, believing their personalities were similar. Or maybe…. deep down, I had wanted to see my lost sister in Charlotte.
Ever since I met her, perhaps I had been harboring these selfish thoughts without even realizing it.
Still, one thing was clear.
Whether she was my sister in this life or not, it didn’t matter.
I already saw her as family.
These thoughts were my own. Mine, as Chae Eun-woo, a man who now lived as Vanitas.
Therefore, the thought of this man abusing his innocent younger sister was even more despicable than scum who preyed on families with outrageous loans.
Crackle—
The flames consumed the mementos, reducing everything connected to Arwen and Vanitas Astrea to ashes as I watched with conflicted emotions.
“….Fuck.”
The migraines were slowly subsiding. I ran a hand through my hair, exhaled, and started cleaning up the mess before turning to leave.
Just as I reached for the doorknob, a sudden chill crept down my spine.
——You never change, Eun-woo.
A familiar voice echoed in my mind, making me turn instinctively.
“….”
——Burning things whenever you’re backed into a corner. You crazy arsonist.
“….”
It was my aunt. Though her figure was hazy, I could never forget her presence til the day I die.
‘Crazy arsonist?’
The audacity.
——What? Am I wrong? Who do you think called the fire station when you almost burned my house down?
“Ugh,” I groaned, clutching my head as if to push the memory away. Moments later, the vision faded.
I shook it off, twisted the doorknob, and stepped out of the office.
——Professor, please open the door!
As I wandered aimlessly through the halls, Charlotte’s—no, Elise’s—voice echoed from the theater room.
The play seemed to be nearing its end.
“….”
From a distance, something glimmered in the corner of my vision.
Swoosh——!
A streak of metal flashed under the pale moonlight, hurtling toward me. I moved aside instinctively. The sound of metal striking marble rang behind me moments later.
“….”
Adjusting my spectacles, I focused on the figure before me. With a small surge of mana, the Spectacles relayed the information I needed.
———「Name: Zia Rain」———
The woman I had been looking for two months ago.
“Vanitas Astrea, Lady Irene wishes to meet you,” she said, approaching me calmly as if she hadn’t just tried to kill me.
I glanced at the dagger embedded in the ground before meeting Zia’s cold gaze. Just like in the game, her voice was monotonous, almost robotic.
“That’s quite the invitation,” I said. “Should I take this as an attempt on my life?”
“Just making sure I got the right person.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t meet Her Highness Irene,” I said. “The play my sister is in hasn’t ended yet, and—”
I paused, feeling the cold blade suddenly near my neck.
“I don’t recall mentioning it as a request,” she said in that same monotone voice.
I remained silent, glancing around. I didn’t want to meet Irene. Not yet. But Zia wasn’t giving me any options.
I didn’t even have time to ponder on why Irene had her sights on me as moments later, it happened.
——Why isn’t she coming down?!
——Hey, why are the staff rushing out?!
A sudden commotion echoed from the theater room. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I felt a surge of dread as my mind raced to understand what was happening.
If my guess was right…. that scene had occurred.
The one scene I feared the most.
My heart pounded. I couldn’t panic, but I believe that’s exactly what I was feeling at the moment.
“….!”
In a single, fluid motion, I disarmed Zia and pinned her to the ground. A mage engaging in close combat with a crusader would usually be a joke, but it seemed like I caught her off guard.
I was far more confident in my physical skills than my magic, after all.
Thump!
As expected, Zia quickly overpowered me. But that was enough. I used the opening to recoil and dash inside the theater, leaving her behind in the hall.
“….”
The sight before me caused my heart to drop.
* * *
——Will you trust me, Charlotte?
Vanitas’s words echoed in her mind as Charlotte struggled, hanging from the rope. Breathing was becoming difficult, though oddly, there was no pain around her neck. However, she couldn’t use her mana.
——Wear this at all times.
‘What’s this?’
——An amulet. I had it custom-made with my magic. It will protect you whenever you’re in danger.
That day, Vanitas had given her an amulet. She had followed his advice, wearing it at all times—just like now, hidden beneath her Elise costume.
Charlotte clawed at the rope, gasping for air. From the corner of her vision, she saw Silas watching her with a grin on his face.
“….”
Of course, it was him.
She turned her gaze toward the audience. Their faces reflected a mix of fear and concern, though they didn’t seem to realize something was truly wrong.
‘They think it’s part of the play….’
Then it hit her.
The spirits inside her head screamed in agony. At that moment, the amulet around her neck began to glow, reacting to the surge of distress from the spirits.
———!
…..
Silas scanned the audience, searching for the man he had orchestrated all of this for.
There he was, standing still, watching the scene unfold with a blank expression.
“….Does this not even faze you?”
The rope around Charlotte’s neck wasn’t ordinary. It was a magic artifact that sealed mana and resisted spells for one full minute upon activation. It was expensive—and illegal. Silas had swapped it out specifically for this moment.
It was then.
———!
A brilliant light suddenly illuminated the stage, forcing Silas to shield his eyes.
“Wha—?”
Wisps of light in various colors swirled and danced around Charlotte. Slowly, the rope caught fire, burning away in bright, white flames. Moments later, Charlotte fell to the ground.
“Cough! Cough…!”
She coughed, trying to catch her breath, before turning to glare at Silas with eyes full of fury.
“….”
Silas swallowed hard. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
She was supposed to hang to death in front of the entire university. Just like Arwen had.
“….!”
Silas didn’t waste a second. He turned and bolted, hoping to escape before anyone could stop him.
Tak. Tak. Tak—!
But just as he made a break for it, the air around him shifted. The weight on his body seemed to press down unnaturally. His feet faltered, and he stumbled to the ground.
“Fuck—Stay back!” he screamed.
Charlotte was already upon him. Wisps of light in every color swirled around her. At that moment, she looked like a Goddess descended from the very concept of colors itself.
“Are you done?” Charlotte asked, her tone cold.
Silas’s eyes widened as he tried to push himself up, only to feel an invisible weight pressing him down.
The sight of Charlotte sent a shiver down his spine. Her gaze…. it was exactly like her brother’s.
“Get off me!” he yelled, struggling in vain.
The wisps grew brighter and began to converge. The surrounding spectators gasped, finally realizing that this wasn’t part of the performance.
Silas turned to the play staff. “Help! Someone, she’s going to kill—”
“Pathetic.”
A cold voice rang out, silencing the commotion instantly. Heads turned as a single figure descended the stairs of the audience seats. His every step was refined, exuding the poise of a dignified noble.
Tak. Tak—!
Vanitas Astrea.
“I gave you opportunities. I deliberately ignored you. I even allowed my sister to be put in danger,” Vanitas said, stepping up the stage. “Yet this is all you could amount to.”
Tak. Tak—!
——What’s he talking about?
——Who’s that man playing Professor Valen?
Questions naturally arose from the audience, but Vanitas spared them no glance.
“Pathetic trash. You’re worse than a clown,” he continued. “At least a clown knows how to entertain.”
Professors and staff began rising from their seats.
——Vanitas, what’s the meaning of this?
——Explain yourself! His Highness is present!
Vanitas turned calmly, meeting their gazes.
“Not a matter for you to concern yourselves about,” he said. “Settle down. I will discuss the matter directly with the Headmaster.”
“No!”
Silas, who was pinned down on the ground by Charlotte’s magic, screamed in protest.
“Shut your mouth.”
“You bastard! You were the reason—”
Silas’s voice faded into silence as Charlotte’s spirit magic overwhelmed him, rendering him unconscious.
The professors hesitated. Some stood and stepped from the audience before Vanitas raised a hand, stopping them.
“Let’s not create a spectacle,” Vanitas continued. “The play is over. Please escort the audience out.”
Vanitas turned his gaze to Silas, who was lying unconscious on the ground.
“And him,” he said coldly. “Let’s not escalate this further. Take him to the nurse’s office.”
The play staff, who had been frozen in fear, swallowed nervously before moving to carry Silas away.
Another staff member signaled for the rest of the team to begin ushering the audience out. Confused chatter of curiosity filled the air as the crowd reluctantly left the theater.
“Are you alright?” Vanitas asked, turning to Charlotte.
Charlotte scratched her neck, still feeling the lingering discomfort from the rope.
“Yeah…. I think so. Just a little shaken—”
Without warning, Vanitas stepped forward and wrapped her in a gentle embrace.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I’m sorry for putting you in danger like that.”
Charlotte froze for a moment, her eyes widening.
“Ah… it’s fine. Really. I was the one who wanted to see this through to the end—”
“No,” Vanitas cut her off. “I’m sorry. I don’t want this to ever happen again. I don’t want to see you like that again.”
Charlotte remained quiet for a moment, trying to process his words. Perhaps the sight of seeing his own sister hanging from a tree would be terrifying.
‘Ah.’
She hadn’t realized when it started, but perhaps she began seeing this person as her actual brother.
At that moment, she noticed something.
“….”
Vanitas was trembling.
Her expression softened as she closed her eyes and nodded, allowing him to gently stroke her hair.
“Okay,” she whispered, returning his embrace. “Okay, Vanitas.”