Azriel blinked, finding himself standing before a place he knew all too well.
“My old home… Guess I didn’t even have to search for it.”
A sad look crossed his face as memories stirred—a lifetime ago, in this familiar view, was perhaps the only place that truly held his past.
Slowly, Azriel walked to the door and stepped inside his old apartment.
“It all still looks the same.”
Not a single thing had changed.
He wandered through the rooms, his fingers tracing the counter as nostalgia washed over him.
“I wonder what happened to all of this after I died…”
Was the apartment sold? Did someone else move in?
But the answers eluded him—and any thought of finding them vanished when he froze, wide-eyed, spotting someone on the couch.
There, calmly sipping tea and watching him, sat a familiar figure.
Blood-red eyes locked on Azriel, their unsettling calm making his skin prickle.
“You…!”
Azriel pointed in disbelief as a faint smile appeared on the figure’s face. The stranger set the cup down, which vanished as if it had never existed, and spoke with a voice devoid of any warmth despite the smile.
“Yes, I am you. How clever of me.”
The man looked exactly like Azriel—the same figure he’d encountered in the void dungeon… the one who’d killed him?
Azriel’s shock rendered him speechless, but his other self seemed unbothered, taking slow steps toward him until only an arm’s length separated them.
“It feels strange, doesn’t it?”
The words were cryptic, their meaning lost on Azriel. He took a few cautious steps back, eyeing his doppelgänger warily.
The other him chuckled, a low, amused sound that only deepened Azriel’s unease.
“No need to be so afraid. After all, I am you.”
Swallowing hard, Azriel managed to steady his voice, clenching his fists.
“Why am I here?”
The other him smirked, a cold glint in his eyes that made Azriel feel like he was staring at something truly sinister.
“Oh, nothing much. I just thought it might do both of us some good… a trip down memory lane.”
“A trip down memory lane?”
‘For both of us?’
The words sounded harmless, almost casual, yet every instinct in Azriel screamed at him to get as far away as possible. But he couldn’t move.
Perhaps the only small comfort was that his other self wasn’t cloaked or wielding that terrible scythe.
The other him nodded, tilting his head slightly, as if studying Azriel with an unsettling curiosity. Azriel felt stripped bare, like prey under the gaze of a predator he couldn’t even begin to understand.
“Yes, it’s time to remember. Time. What a vexing thing to handle. But, anyway…”
He trailed off, a dark amusement flickering in his eyes. Azriel felt a chill crawl up his spine.
“It’s time to ensure that our sacrifices don’t go to waste. That yours, mine, ours—all our sacrifices—don’t go to waste.”
Those words—simple yet loaded with something inexplicably cold—sent a jolt of dread through Azriel, as if his very blood had turned to ice. Then he sensed it—a faint ripple in the air, subtle yet unmistakable.
The door behind him creaked open.
“I’m home…”
Azriel’s eyes widened as he saw himself—no, Leo—walk into the room.
Wearing a simple black hoodie and pants, Leo had a pair of white headphones resting over his ears. He looked older than the memory Azriel held, of Leo first learning the piano.
A voice at Azriel’s side murmured,
“This was when you were only fifteen.”
Azriel’s face grew solemn, a sad smile flickering as he watched Leo walk through him like a ghost, heading toward the couch. Just as he sat down, the sound of light footsteps approached, catching the attention of everyone present.
Azriel’s entire body froze, an unbearable ache twisting deep inside him.
“Ah…”
A grip tightened around his heart, squeezing until every breath felt shallow, forced.
Because there she was.
A young girl with brown hair cascading to her shoulders, eyes gleaming with a vibrant green—like gazing into the heart of the northern lights. Her whole face lit up as she looked at Leo, a smile beaming.
“Brother!”
In a flash, Lia sprinted across the room, launching herself onto Leo, sending his headphones tumbling to the floor.
“Oof!”
Leo grunted as her head collided with his stomach, knocking him back on the couch. She rolled off beside him, her hair tangling, giggling at his startled expression.
Leo gave her a half-hearted glare.
“How many times have I told you not to jump on me?”
But instead of looking guilty, she stuck her tongue out at him, defiant.
“Hehehe, you’re just too weak!”
Leo sighed, his glare softening into a small smile.
“I don’t need that from someone who came crying to my room last night, saying Mr. Whiskers turned into a demonic beast.”
Mr. Whiskers—one of Lia’s many plush toys—self-proclaimed king of the jungle.
Lia’s face paled, tears welling in her eyes. Experience adventure on freewebnovel
“I’m not lying! Mr. Whiskers did turn into a monster, like the one you and Mom watched last night! He even had wings!”
Leo laughed, shaking his head as he gently patted her hair.
“Alright, alright, I believe you.”
But Lia noticed his smile didn’t quite hold the belief she wanted. She huffed, crossing her arms, pouting in a way Leo found irresistibly cute.
After a moment, Leo asked,
“Lia, where are Mom and Dad?”
Instantly, her frustration vanished.
“They went out together! Said we could order food when you got back. They’re on a date, right? To, you know, kiss and stuff?”
Leo raised an eyebrow, shocked.
“Lia… how do you even know what a date is? Or… kissing?”
Should six-year-olds know about that? Leo thought not.
Realizing her slip-up, Lia avoided his gaze, her voice small.
“I…read it in one of Dad’s books.”
“Didn’t Dad tell you not to go into his library?”
Leo narrowed his eyes at her.
Her head drooped, guilt clear in her voice.
“Sorry…please don’t tell him. He’ll be mad.”
Leo sighed, his annoyance melting.
“Fine. Just don’t go in there again, okay? Besides, I don’t think Dad could ever get mad at you.”
Relieved, Lia’s face brightened, and for a moment, Leo suspected she might have faked the whole scene. But he shook his head, dismissing the thought. No way a six-year-old could pull off something like that.
Right?
Watching this, Azriel bit his lip, his voice trembling as he whispered,
“Get me out of here…”
He wanted to look away, but something inside wouldn’t let him. The sight of it all hurt—hurt in ways he couldn’t even begin to understand.
Beside him, his other self watched without an ounce of empathy.
“Does it really hurt you that much? Honestly, I don’t understand. I lost that part of myself, sure, but… if it pains you, that’s good. Pain makes you stronger.”
The words brought Azriel no comfort. His glare sharpened as he growled, voice heavy with anger,
“Enough of this. All this ‘trip down memory lane’ bullshit. There’s no way you’re showing me this for nostalgia. Just get to the point already.”
His other self studied him, cold and unmoved, as if time itself had frozen around the two of them.
Leo and Lia on the couch remained suspended mid-motion.
Then, his counterpart gave a sinister smile.
“Ah. I was hoping you’d hold out a little longer, but maybe you’re right. I suppose it’s time.”
For the first time, Azriel saw something flicker in those otherwise empty eyes—pity?
“You’ll need every ounce of strength for what comes next.”
Azriel’s glare only hardened, his hate building with every second.
His other self’s gaze darkened, mirroring the loathing in Azriel’s eyes, as he spoke in a low, venomous voice, “Now, let’s see the day your life went to hell…Leo Karumi.”
With a single wave of his hand, reality shattered—or perhaps it was only the dream that broke.
The scene—whatever this place was—began to splinter. Like glass cracking, then dissolving to dust, everything fell apart and crumbled away.
In its place lay only pitch-black nothingness, a void so profound it made Azriel’s skin crawl with an intense, visceral dread. A sense of watching, of something lurking within that darkness, crept over him, and he could have sworn it stared back.
But he had no time to linger on the feeling. His other self, filled with cold hatred, waved his hand again. In reverse, the scene rebuilt itself from nothing, reshaping and reforming. frёewebηovel.cѳm
Once complete, Azriel found himself standing again in the familiar living room, facing the couch.
But this time, it wasn’t Lia sitting there, and it wasn’t the fifteen-year-old Leo either.
No, this was Leo at seventeen—the age he died.
Leo sat slouched, head hanging low, while two figures stood in front of him. One wore an expression of anger, the other of sorrow. Yet perhaps, beneath both, was a sadness neither could fully express.
Ronald and Jeanne…unable to find the words they needed to say.
But Jeanne spoke at last, her voice trembling with both hurt and disbelief.
“Tell me, Leo…how could you lie to us like that?”
And in that single moment, Azriel already knew what was happening because… this was the day his family would die.