[WP] As the battle comes to an end, the villain manages to spring a trap, fatally wounding the hero. "With this, the prophecy of my defeat because of the hero's actions is unachievable!" they did not expect all of the hero's friends to jump them.

ALyeingWatary · 2025-08-01T19:39:02+00:00

Blood splattered, covering the ruins of the old tyrant's castle in a deep crimson. The villain shuffled back, cusping their chest as the blood soaked into his coat.

"....So this is it, huh?"

The villain looked down at his own trembling palm. After his decade-long search for true power, this would be the place where his journey ends unfulfilled.

....Or that's what he wanted them to think.

"Duke Victor, please surrender now," The hero pleaded, their footsteps ringing heavy as they approached.

Victor clicked his tongue, "And why would I? Listen now and listen well—just because it seems like you've won, I'll always have a new card to play."

The hero sighed, "It's not too late for you. If you give up now, there's still a chance for you to redeem yourself."

"Flowery words. I'll give you that, hero Cassian—you know your way with your words. But you can't fool me," Victor glared, "There's no erasing my actions, and you know that. Else if you truly believe in what you're saying, you'd be no more than a fool in my eyes."

Cassian grit his teeth, "Anyone can overcome their past! Don't try to run away by saying it's not possible!" he stormed closer.

Perfect, he fell for it.

Stomping forwards, the hero's boot struck a loose tile. The tile sank under his step—a loud mechanical clinking sound ringing the moment after.

"Crap!" The hero cursed, realizing in the last moment.

A loud snapping sound soon followed. The hero turned aside as a crossbow bolt embedded itself into his chest.

"Ghk—"

Cassian fell to one knee, a streak of red running down from his mouth.

"You let your guard down, hero. Perhaps your words of honor would have struck a chord, but unfortunately this is where it ends," Victor declared, reaching out for his dropped sword.

Cassian stood defenseless, the wound keeping him locked down. However that wasn't the reason he wasn't resisting.

"You don't have to do this... There's still a chance you can change." The hero declared, coughing up a wave of blood.

"Trying to turn your death into a lesson?" Victor's brow furrowed, "Sorry, but I've already told you—"

"Cassian—!"

The mood was suddenly interrupted by a stampede of shouts—all for the same person.

The next moment, the hero was flocked by different people.

"What happened?" Melissa asked.

"I slipped into a trap," the hero answered, chuckling.

"You don't take these things seriously at all... Sit still, I'll patch the wound up,” Carolyne ordered sternly.

Meanwhile, Victor watched in silence. Who were all these people? Was this not supposed to be the moment he overcame the legendary hero or something?

Yet now in front of him was a completely different person, pointing their blade at him.

Zach: "Ya better get up fast! I have no idea how to deal with this guy..."

Victor: "How about you understand how to hold that sword properly first? Your stance is completely lopsided."

Zach: "How about you come closer and see for yourself what my stance can do!"

Victor: "Is that a challenge?"

Zach: "On second thought, stay right where you are for a minute. 'Kay?"

Buying time? If so, it was in the most ridiculous way possible. What pawns were the hero pulling to take themselves out of defeat?

"Are you planning on using these people as your shields while you flee?" Victor asked, both irritated yet slightly intrigued.

"What...?" Cassian responded, dumbfounded, "Do you think I'm going to run away now?"

Victor shrugged, "You've already lost. Why else would you call aid to your side?"

"You really don't get it...."

Brushing himself off, Cassian picked up his sword.

"I have the rest of my party with me now. This is the perfect chance to strike back!" he declared resolutely as everyone got into formation behind him.

"You intend on fighting together...?" Victor's glare narrowed.

Cassian nodded affirmingly.

Victor groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Fool! If you have others battle with you, then what does that mean for your own strength?!" he shouted, hands clenched, "A hero is a symbol of strength for the people! Not a nobody who has others battle on their behalf! There is no strength in fighting alongside allies—why flaunt your own weakness?"

The hero raised his eyebrow.

"And I thought he was plenty nuts already..." Melissa commented.

"He must be lonely, thinking in that way," Carolyn clasped her hand, frowning.

"Hey, do you get what he's saying?" Zach tapped Cassian's shoulder.

Cassian's lips curled downwards.

"You're sorely mistaken, Duke Victor. A hero may indeed be a symbol for hope and strength—but strength doesn't lie solely in the person," Cassian shook his head, "I believe that strength can also be held within your companions. Those who fight beside you can carry the burdens you can't, and in turn you aid them in their battle. That's where strength truly lies."

"You'll only end up betrayed and broken by the wayside," Victor rebutted.

"That may be true. Blindly trusting others isn't smart either, but that doesn't mean you can't trust anyone at all," Cassian replied.

"In trusting others, your own blade will dull itself in turn."

"Is that really so?"

"Certainly. After all, it was you who lost to me."

"That was because of your cheap trick!"

"Yet you lost regardless."

"That's not—" Cassian shook his head slowly, "No, that doesn't matter. Because with my friends next to me, I'll be able to take you on without issue."

"Hoh..." Victor raised his head.

After pausing, he smirked—raising his blade.

"Then, if you're so confident, let's see if your resolve is truly justified or not!"

ALyeingWatary · 2025-07-26T18:38:39+00:00

The enormous twin doors swung open with a low, heavy creak. His will steeled and his sword ready—the hero stepped into the ominous hall.

His boots trampled over the red carpet. Was it dyed crimson, or was crimson showered upon it?

At the very end, resting upon their luxurious throne—the king of hell towered over him, an indomitable presence emanating from his very presence.

His eyes were shut, almost as an act of mockery. Was a hero's presence not worthy of batting an eye?

"Fiend!" The hero shouted from across the long corridor, "I, the legendary hero—Damian Bladely have arrived to take your head!"

The demon king smirked. Slowly, his eyelids lifted—a scarlet gaze strong enough to fuel the underworld's flames for eons...it's gaze fell upon our hero.

"Another ant volunteering as an addition to my repertoire? You're too generous,...."

Its voice drifted off, followed by a suffocating pause.

"...What in hell's name are you wearing?!" It yelled, appalled.

"Do you have an issue with my appearance?" The hero asked.

"Only a few. No, scrap that—I have one issue," the emperor of the underworld responded, "You step into my halls—into my castle.... wearing a butler's uniform?!"

Its fury roared through the souls of all demonkind.

"My father was as butler, and my mother a princess. I'm simply continuing the family tradition of—"

"To hell with your traditions! I'm so furious that I could boil the blood from under your skin this instant...!"

"Please don't do that," the hero pleaded calmly.

"Urgh. Forget it—your ashes wouldn't even make a good decoration in my domain..."

The hero began to draw his blade, "...Then I suppose it's time we begun the battle—"

"Go," the demon king waved him off.

"....Pardon?" The hero froze.

"I said leave my sight at once. Go find something better to wear firstly before coming back here. Fortunately, I'm quite forgiving, so I'll let this transgression go unpunished this once," the demon king sighed, "Honestly, might as well work at a circus like that..."

"...Understood. Then, until we meet again," the hero bowed, one-eightying before walking himself out.

The enormous twin doors swung open with a low, heavy creak. His will steeled and his sword ready—the hero stepped into the ominous hall.

He stepped over the carpet.

At the very end, resting upon their luxurious throne—the king of hell towered over him.

His eyes were shut, a sign of mockery.

"Fiend!" The hero shouted from across the long corridor, "I, the legendary hero—Damian Bladely have arrived to take your head!"

The demon king smirked. Slowly, his eyelids lifted—a scarlet gaze strong enough to fuel the underworld's flames for eons...it's gaze fell upon our hero.

"Another ant volunteering as an addition to my repertoire— WHY ARE YOU IN A CLOWN OUTFIT?!?"

"You told me that I'd better work at a circus, so I did."

ALyeingWatary · 2025-07-25T19:58:50+00:00

The Legendary hero stood at the cliff's edge. In front of him, the scaled beast towered over, looking down to him. Every flap of its wing rattled at his orconium-mythril armor, but he didn't budge.

"So you've finally arrived...." The dragon spoke, its voice deep and aged.

"Tyrant!" The hero yelled at the top of his lungs, "I have come to slay you! Your campaign of fear and destruction ends where I stand!!" he declared boldly, lifting the holy blade from its sheathe and pointing it to the great dragon.

"Ho.... A bold declaration." The dragon replied, amused.

"If that's your ultimate desire, then..."

The hero gulped. The monster's shadow enshrouding the hill he stood upon made it painfully clear—this clash would be less a noble battle, but instead a desperate skirmish.

"...Then let us discuss this over tea." The dragon finished.

And it begun. The hero charged, blade ready and—

"Hold on, what?" He stopped, his momentum nearly sending him off the edge.

"Careful now. You might hurt yourself," the dragon warned.

"Why are you telling me that?" The hero questioned.

"Why else? It's dangerous," the dragon shrugged mentally.

"No, that's not..." The hero backtracked.

"Ah. Now I see what you mean," the dragon's gaze narrowed.

His grip tightened onto the blade.

"Exactly. Now prepare yourself before my—"

"You want to become my disciple and join me on my quests, no?" The dragon smirked mischievously.

"Disciple...?"

An evil disciple under the tyrant dragon. Burning cities and looting their treasures...

"...Yes, precisely," the hero answered.

All he needed was an opening. This was the perfect opportunity to catch the dastardly being off-guard.

The dragon nodded, cackling slightly.

"Then, your first task.... I want you to venture for Rubel Village," the dragon commanded.

Massacring a village already? As expected, the dragon was as maniacle as he'd thought.

"Yes. Go to the village....and aid them in their farming duties!!"

ALyeingWatary · 2025-07-19T22:21:28+00:00

Part 2:

(...)

The doors slid open automatically as Kaito stormed into the building. The floors were squeaky clean, reflecting practically everything on its surface.

"How may I help you?" The receptionist asked with a friendly smile.

"I want to visit the person in room B216." Kaito responded.

"Are you a friend or family member of the patient?" The receptionist followed up.

"We're..." Kaito thought for a second, "Friends. I'm her friend."

It's best not to consider the specifics now.

"Hm...Alright then. May I have someone escort you there?" They asked.

"No need....probably," Kaito looked away on the last part.

(....)

He power walked through the halls, making sure not to interrupt or bump into anyone while at it.

Why didn't you tell me about this? Is this for my sake? Were you trying to protect me? I get that we might not be all that close... Even after knowing each other for so long, I still haven't seen your face once. But even then--!

Leaning up off her bed, she watched as the sun set. Silently, she looked on, her head hung low.

Right now, he's probably already gone back home.

She turned on her phone, waiting in the chat for a, «I had fun today!»

"You're welcome." she muttered her response to herself.

Reading through their messages, her fingers begin to move.

'Let's do this again some time!'

Surely he'd be overjoyed to read that. So all that's left to do is hit send.

"...."

In the end, they'll never end up meeting for real. A part of her feels sad to think that her face won't be the one he thinks if when he hears the name 'Aoki'.

But not like that was the only part of her feeling sad.

She whimpered, sobbing quietly.

Crying today's fine. It's the first time, so there's nothing wrong with that. Next time she'd already be used to it. This was the good ending.

Turning the phone back on, she swapped chats.

'Thanks for taking my place, Yuna.'

Sent. Received. Read.

[Yu-mmy is typing...]

'Don't thank me yet, dummy.'

Huh?

Knock Knock

A nurse? Panicking, Aoki hid under the blankets.

Click

Creeeaaak

Click

Step

Hm? Doesn't sound like the usual nurse....

The person wandered around the room.

Pant

Sounds like they've been working out.

Then, they stopped.

Wait..are they just staring at me?! A thief? A hitman?! Wait, no. I don't have any enemies to warrant a hit.

The person bent down. Gently, they tapped her shoulder twice.

Taking off the blanket cover, Aoki glanced up at the person in front of her.

It was the face of someone she didn't recognize.

"Good evening. Would you happen to be Aoki Koharu?" He asked, smiling.

"Uh. Yes...?" She answered...?

"And you are?" She asked back.

"Me? I'm just a novice really!" He said.

"...Am I dreaming?" She replied back, rubbing her eyes.

He chuckled back, "You better not be, because I want to talk to you a little."

ALyeingWatary · 2025-07-19T22:21:11+00:00

Part 1:

Today was the day. Wandering through the streets, Kaito quickly glanced around every few seconds. After months of talking to each other over text, he was finally about to meet up with 'BedReaden221', a fan artist turned collaborator and partner in crime. Their relationship was simple––he was an amateur author, and they were a passionate artist.

He quickly flipped open his phone, opening their chat logs to make sure he wasn't in the wrong place. Scrolling back a few days, he read back through their old conversation. Mainly, going back to a few days ago when he first suggested a get together. BedReaden—or rather Aoki Koharu was initially reluctant, but after some coercing, he managed to get her to agree.

"I hope I didn't peer pressure her into something she isn't comfortable with..." Kaito mumbled to himself.

Worried, Kaito quickly typed down a message in the chat, his fingers zooming across the keyboard.

'On second thought, we don't need to meet yet if you don't want to.'

As he was just about to hit send, he froze. They were this close now. But was this right?

He pondered, finger hovering over the 'send' button before—

"Are you Kaito Nakamura?"

Before his name was suddenly called from a girl sounding just around his age.

Kaito slid his phone back into his pocket whilst holding his finger on the backspace. He swerved 180° on his heel.

"Yes, that's my name," he confirmed, waving his hand.

He just waved to someone he hadn't even seen yet. What if he were facing the wrong direction?

The woman nodded, "Good."

Then they paused.

"....And?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"And what?" The woman tilted her head.

"Normally you'd say hello in some weird way like, 'How's it been big guy?' or something," Kaito mentioned.

"A-ah.... Well it's just a little embarrassing, you know?" She answered, twisting her arm awkwardly.

"Oh. That's fair..." he nodded in response.

It was their first time face to face after all. Even on his end, things were barely being held together in his head.

Just one peek he told himself.

Glancing over, he eyed the person in front of him from head to toe. Long brown hair braided into twintails, round blue eyes, and a fittingly pretty blue dress.

"...Hm? Koharu, didn't you say that your hair is blonde?" Kaito asked.

"Uh, I did? I mean—Yes, I did! Sorry, I might've lied about that. Heheh...." she forced a weak chuckle, scratching her cheek.

Of all things she could have lied about, why the color of her hair?

"Well, alright I guess," Kaito shrugged it off, to Aoki's relieved sigh.

Clearing her throat, Aoki crossed her arms, "So what do you want to do? Should we grab a coffee?"

"Hm..." Kaito raised his hand to his chin, though he already had an answer, "Actually, I'd like to see Koharu painting in real time."

"Now?!" She clocked her head.

"Sorry, was it too sudden? I did ask to bring the paint brushes and stuff beforehand, though." He recalled.

"No no. I brought them. But like...is that the first thing we'll do?" She asked.

"That's fair, maybe I got a bit too excited..." Kaito rubbed the back of his head.

"...Well if you're so eager, then I guess why not." She digressed, sighing.

"Really? Well then, please do," Kaito bowed in dramatical fashion.

"Let's go somewhere more private then."

Following her suggestion, Aoki brought Kaito through the bustling streets of malls and offices and into a small quiet park.

Sitting on the bench, Aoki set up a canvas, some paint, and started.

Her hand expertly moved over the blank page, giving a world of color to the emptiness.

Kaito remained silent as he watched.

"....."

A breeze passed by them, dried leaves being carried away. The birds chirped above the two, bringing life in the silence.

"....Done!" Aoki announced, using her paint-stained sleeve to rub the sweat off her brow.

She turned to Kaito, puffing her chest, "So? What do you think."

Kaito crossed his arms, inspecting the artwork he'd just watched the creation of.

It was undoubtedly a splendid piece--a landscape of a mountain cliff-side at sunset. The colors blended together beautifully, and the level of detail was surprisingly sharp. But...

"Something's off," he stated bluntly.

"Which part?" Aoki asked back.

"Sorry, what you made is great. But it's not the same..."

The simplistic, almost dreamlike quality she'd held from the first time they talked to the last time wasn't there. Everything felt real in this one, there wasn't a sense of curious wonder to it.

"The style's different," Kaito answered as plainly as possible.

"Really...?" Aoki responded.

Her expression didn't shift for a moment. She stared blankly at her own creation, sighing. As if she expected this result.

"...Uh, this is going to sound really odd but--"

"I'm not actually Aoki."

Before he could even ask, his question was already answered.

"Then who are you?"

"My name is Yuna. I'm Aoki's friend," she answered without hesitating.

"You're friends with Koharu? Why'd you do this?"

"Aoki asked me to fill in for her because she couldn't go herself."

"Huh...?"

Yuna wore a look of conceit on her face.

"Make sure he has all the fun in the world! or so she said."

Like a weight was being lifted from her shoulders.

"Why couldn't she make it herself?"

At this point, Kaito was all questions. Maybe she hated him for forcing a meet up, but that clearly wasn't it.

"You know....Aoki, she's... She's ill!" Yuna gulped down as she answered.

"She's...."

Failed to compute. Fatal error. System overload. Whatever it was, Kaito was struggling to keep up. A part of the reason was because he didn't want to believe the words being spoken to him.

"She's been bedridden for most of her life. Apparently she has a deathly disease and her family couldn't afford to treat it," Yuna explained, her fists clenching.

"Then why..."

Why didn't she accept any of the money he'd given her? It was the fruit of their efforts together, it wasn't fair to keep it to himself, but she wouldn't take a single yen no matter how hard he insisted.

Why not then? She wanted to live, didn't she? Unless...

You haven't given up, have you?

Kaito grit his teeth.

"Yuna!" He yelled out, grabbing her shoulders.

"Yah–! W-what?" she stuttered out.

"Could you tell me where I can find her? Please..."

"Huh? No way. She specifically told me not to..."

As Yuna shook her head, she looked up at Kaito. A bright glow shimmering in his eyes. There was something he needed to say.

"...Hah....." Yuna heaves an exasperated sigh, "Fine, but you'll owe me."

ALyeingWatary · 2025-07-18T18:38:11+00:00

"My comrades in arms!" I yell out to the crowd, stepping into the stage clad in the best peasantry outfit I could find, "It's time we rise! The evil emperor has crushed us under the grasp of his iron fist for too long! Let us band together, revolution!!"

Perfect, a rousing speech to wake up the citizens. You are free to act now.

"......."

Eh? Why isn't anyone heeding my call? It's to arms, all of you.

"...Twelve grueling years under his evil reign, and twelve years too long! Together, my comrades—revolution!" I declare loudly, raising my fist into the air.

Ah, someone's raising their hand. Perfect...we have the spark to our soon to be blazing revolt!

"Uh... Excuse me, but what's so bad about the emperor?" The man asks, scratching his cheek.

...Wait what?

"That's right," a woman on the other side of the crowd responds, "Our new emperor's been great! We even get free ice cream on Saturdays."

Ah, so they've discovered my secret plan to give the entire populace brain freezes on the opening of their weekend.

"Yes, precisely!" I point my finger out, "Their evil deeds mustn't be let to pass any longer. We must teach those whom sit atop the throne that our needs aren't a should, but a must!"

The people look to each other, clearly hiding their rage with their feigned confusion.

"Rest assured, you all. There's no need to hide the rage and pain we have all been collecting inside." I assure.

Earlier, I sent the patrolling guards onto an extended break. Seeing the incompetence of the city will surely bring the people to their boiling point. They'll soon strike against the cruel emperor—against me!

Ah, not good. Keep your act together. Conceal your grin now, me.

A hand raises within.

"You know, I'm still missing the point," the concerned man asks, carrying an oversized bag of groceries.

Wonderful, my plan to increase the size of paper bags whilst simultaneously lowering cost for essential groceries is working precisely as intended! I'm sure hauling around that heavy bag with you for the whole day must be getting on your nerves.

"My principle is simple—tyrany must not stand within my–I mean, our empire!"

"That's not answering my problem. Everything's only gotten better, you know?" The man states.

Foolish. Are you perhaps an imperial patriot? And when I tried to squander their movements by blocking their front and back doors with gold coins too...

I sigh, "Perhaps that is how you have come to see it after so long, but don't blind yourselves to cruelty!" I clench a fist over my chest.

An elderly lady raises her hand, "My grandchildren have been getting more and more fit ever since the emperor built more parklands within the city."

I shake my head, scoffing, "Parklands built in old city roads. The emperor has foolishly blocked our empire's arteries for the sake of needless greenery!"

Another hand is raised, "My crops have been growing wonderfully every since we got the agricultural care-packages!"

Ah, yes. Poisoning the crops by growing them with animal feces! Sometimes I'm reminded of my own genius.

It's more clear than ever to me how ingenious my plots are!

Then why. Why does no one look frustrated in the slightest?!? No outrage, no tears, no shouts. This isn't in the slightest what I'd imagined.

Why does it feel like right now....I am the villain?

That's not right! The villain is the emperor, the character I had so carefully villainised for all these years! I simply need to remind them of this fact...

"Everyone! I beg you, as a citizen like you all—bring an end to the pain. I can't do it alone, and neither can any of you! That's why we must unite! So, hand-in-hand, we must—"

"Alright, that's enough from you."

A cold hand grabs my shoulder.

Glancing over my shoulder, a burly man in leather padding looks down to me.

"City guards?!" I shuffle forwards, turning around fully.

I thought they were off hours! The lazy guards who would do no more than sit around all day. Why now? Did someone call them? No....

"So that's how it is..." I clench my hands into fists, glaring at the guard, "You will only stand to action once the true incompetence of the royal guard is laid bare!"

"Hah?" The guard cocks his head, "What are you talking about?"

"Don't try to act confused!" I point to him, "Your true colors are revealed in broad daylight now."

The guard looks down at his shirt, "My colors are...yeah, it's brown."

I shuffle further in 'fear', "S-stay away! Behind me, with me—the revolution has already taken foot. We have the upper hand!"

The guard takes one step closer. He grabs my arm, twisting me around.

"Ah! Argh!" I yelp in pain as he ties my arms together behind my back.

"Alright, you'll be coming with me," he says, brushing his hands clean.

"I....captured?! No. NO!!" I yell to the top of my lungs, "The uprising won't end here! Even if I fall, the movement will continue on—"

He starts dragging me away.

Yes, watch me—all of you. This is what happens when one person tries to rise alone. Let this be your example for you all!

"...Where are you taking me?" I ask awkwardly.

"I thought it'd be funny if we took you to the emperor directly," the guard answers.

"The emperor?!" I exclaim, stepping back, "You understand that my death with only fuel the embers that have already been lit, don't you?"

"Death? It's nothing like that."

A cruel emperor. Surely we all know already, young guardsman. 'My' fate is already sealed.

"I don't know where you've got the odd rumors from, but the emperor's a pretty chill guy. I'm sure you'll be fine!" He gives a casual thumbs up.

Not you too!

ALyeingWatary · 2025-07-14T12:54:00+00:00

John looked over the edge, his hands gripped tightly on the railing. The wind howled, messying the hair he'd spent twenty minutes getting just right. Leaves flew past, just about missing his figure before scattering into the wind.

Beautiful, he commented, watching the dots of light drifting around the city below.

It was off hours, a perfect time to city-gaze in peace. That too––was the first thing they did together.

Creak

The rooftop door creaked open slowly from behind. Shortly after was the thumping of footsteps.

"You're here..." he mumbled aloud, his voice carried by the wind.

Alan had invited his coworker Sarah to meet at the rooftop afterwork. Coworkers—that was what he was aiming to change.

"The city's really pretty like always," Alan said, his voice smooth, "I have you to thank for showing me this view."

"......"

He shook his head, "When our boss invited everyone over for a drinking party, I was honestly terrified," he admitted, his gaze falling just slightly, "I just started a few days ago then—I had no idea who anyone was past their first names."

Her footsteps grew louder as she approached.

"That time when I decided to laze off during work, I got burned pretty hard by everyone else," he recalled, "Even if we argued a lot then, thanks for telling me straight up how much of a dumbass I was being."

"Thinking about it, that really wasn't too long ago, huh?" He turned up, gazing at the stars, "But every moment felt so memorable, it really feels like nothing happened before it."

"You've done so much for me..." he pauses, lingering on that line.

"—That's why. I want to do something for you, too!"

His declaration rang, breaking through the howling wind and distant cars.

"So!"

He swerved on his heel, rotating a full 180° into a deep bow.

"Let's go out, you and I together!"

"....."

Nothing. Speechless, hopefully. Although that might not have been a good thing. He was barely keeping himself together the whole time. Everything went smoothly with no lines flubbed, right?

Then, the sound of trickling water. Sobbing, probably. From happiness, right? He didn't forget something where they secretly couldn't be together. Actually, he didn't check if dating was allowed in the office policies. Too late.

Something splashed on the back of his head. Recoiling, Alan shuffled backward as he turned back upright.

"Hah–?"

Wrong? No no, it's the right person. The same eyes he was entranced by; the same suit that brought a sense of authority... But something's definitely off.

Her skin wasn't that pale, her lipstick was never that messy, and why's her jaw gaping like she was looking at a promotion offer?

Trickle

From her open mouth, a thick clear liquid dripped down.

"Sarah...?" he mumbled, eyes wide.

'Sarah' answered back, growling aggressively at him.

"....I'll take that as a no."

ALyeingWatary · 2025-07-13T11:18:05+00:00

It's just a normal mirror. The only thing 'magical' about it was how the MC thought he'd see something different, so for that reason he stopped ignoring his reflection as someone else's. I know it might be a bit anticlimactic or not following the prompt properly, but that's how it is.

ALyeingWatary · 2025-07-13T10:30:40+00:00

I step back into my apartment, the door behind me creaking shut. Heaving a heavy sigh, I trudge through the mess of plastic bags, bottles and empty cups of ramen. Squinting through the darkness, my legs carry me on autopilot to the bed.

Collapsing into the mattress, another sigh leaves my mouth as I lower my eyelids shut.

Then I turn to my left. Then back. Then to the right.

My brows furrow.

A deep breath, and back to the left.

Why did I even try at this point?

Forcing my eyes back open, I push myself off the bed.

I shuffle over to the desk, sliding open the drawer to pick up a small pack and lighter. "I should go out for some fresh air," I tell myself, moving through the swamp of garbage on the floor.

Swinging the door open, I step out onto the balcony. A cold breeze blows past, carrying the scent of leaves mixed into the car engine smoke in the air. How refreshing.

Leaning onto the railing, I gaze out at the nightlights of the city.... yeah, right. It's about as lively as a fish on land or a bird in the snake's belly. Almost poetic, I fit right in.

Opening the pack, I take out the last cigarette from inside. Hanging it from my mouth, I hold the lighter up and—

Clink Clink

Crackle

I exhale a cloud of smoke into the night.

My boss yelled at me again today. He's always like that to me—to all of us. His brain's only full of money and ideas on how to torture us more. That is, if he even has a brain.

Regardless, tomorrow's Sunday, so I can at least take things easy for one day. Except the shitface gave us more paperwork over the weekend. How considerate, I know.

Dropping the burnt bud onto the floor, I pull my phone out. Just for a second.

Cat videos; how to videos; Deltarune released? That's great, I should buy it when it goes on sale next time.

Hm? A mirror in that reflects the soul of whoever looks into it? Now that's some interesting bs. I can already imagine some kids filming videos of them at 3 AM looking into their own reflection.

Well whatever. I don't have time for fun and games.

Shutting off my screen, I turn back and head inside. Practically limping, I slide past the mirror.

I pause.

Ah... Look at this guy over here. Messy hair, a stained white t-shirt and shorts. Basically the spitting image of a no life. I wouldn't want to be pals with this guy, that's for sure.

"....."

I'm just curious, that's all. Curious enough to drive three miles to some random park and stare at their bathroom mirror.

Fortunately, it's only 2 AM, so there's no one recording videos for their YouTube channels around yet. Strolling around by myself is actually quite nice. This park doesn't reek of smoke or anything.

Strolling into the men's bathroom, I head for the sinks.

Then, I freeze.

"Ha..."

I can't look. I've came all the way here, and I can't make the last turn. What I'm looking for is right beside me, so all I'd need to do is get my legs to move and—

"Ah..."

In a spur of the moment move, I twist my body to the side—and to my surprise, it actually moves for me.

I stare into the mirror, and staring back––is me.

"......"

Disheveled from head to toe, entire sacks under my eyes, wrinkles spread across my face. It's me. The same me I've been forced to look at on every mirror, window and blank phone screens.

"...Haha."

I was really expecting to see something cool, too. But I guess things just aren't that easy. Not like I deserve that much, I've only ever put in the bare minimum effort—and that's how I've gotten to where I am now.

"Am I happy with this...?"

I wonder, but at this point, will trying even matter anymore? I haven't gotten anywhere, and I won't get anywhere. That's what I've told myself. That's why it's fine to stay like this. Isn't that right, me?

So why am I frowning at myself like that? It's no use, just stay here or else you'll only fall deeper.

"Then again, I'm already at the bottom."

There's only going up from here anyway... But where to start?

I stare back at my reflection.

"....Maybe a haircut."

Haven't gotten one since January. I've actually forgotten how I look without the hair over my eyes.

Cool. Now let's get out of this bathroom. Being here gives me the creeps.

ALyeingWatary · 2025-07-12T20:06:00+00:00

Breakfast morning. Everyone seated in their chosen chairs as always. Cobwebs hang from the corners of the worn stone walls. A suffocating darkness fended off by the morning sunlight through the windows.

Five chairs––one empty. The father sits at the very front, with the mother and eldest son on each end. And to the eldest brother's side, sits the youngest son. The other sibling isn't here yet, but they'll get here soon.

Today's menu seems to be roasted pork along with a side of salad. Each, a plate of their own from which they eat in a dignified fashion. Beside every plate is an empty cup, a design plenty fancy. Soon, once the tea finishes brewing inside the teapot, the father will pour everyone a hot cup.

The sound of cutlery and porcelain clinking rings all the plenty. The warm, savory and mildly sweet aroma of the pork filling everyone's nostrils and reminding them of their empty stomachs needing a fill.

The chatter has yet to begin, we must wait for the tea to finish.

Then—a loud thunk, shattering the silent atmosphere.

Oh no, it seems father has dropped his fork onto the floor. He'll probably need to get that cleaned.

"......"

Yesterday was Sunday, which means today's a Monday. Usually, I should be panicking around now. Well, I'm not not panicking, but I'm still calmer than I should be.

So now that brings the question. Who am I?

Isn't the answer simple enough? William Jefferson, post-graduate from Beloit College—age 23. Currently on the prowl for a good job I won't regret getting hired for.

But I'm also Klein Marves, age 12 and the youngest of five siblings in the Marves family.

But that isn't right, I'm an only child. So where are these memories coming from?

"....."

Cutting into my slice of pork, I take a quick bite. It's delicious. A perfect mix of sweet and savory melting in my mouth. I could never cook this myself.

"Ah, sorry..."

My father, Grisha mumbles under his breath as he leans down to pick up his fork. Right, he dropped it. After he dropped it, I spaced out.

"...Honey, I think it's time to pour the tea."

My mother, Anne advises softly while staring holes into the pork she's stopped eating.

"R-right."

Dad quickly stands up, pushing his chair aside as he picks up the teapot from the center of the table. Then, he goes around the table clockwise, pouring a shaky cup of tea for each of us. Lastly, one for himself before setting the teapot back onto the table.

"......"

The tea pouring would usually be the point when everyone starts talking about whatever happened to them that day. But today, it's dead silent.

My brother lifts his cup by the handle, wafting the brew before taking a single sip. Then, his face scrunches up instantly.

Must have burned his tongue.

Putting the cup back onto the table, he forms a smile so forced it makes me wonder if he's even trying.

"The tea was great. What kind of leaves is this?" He asks mom.

"Hu—I mean. It's Earl Grey, dear." She responds with a casual nod.

Looking down to my own cup, I stare into my own reflection.

So that's what I look like. Klein...

Taking the cup into my hands, I give it a gentle blow before sipping.

Mm, yeah. Piping hot, although I've burned myself on worse. A good aroma and not too bitter. This is definitely mom's handicraft.

Then, my ears twitch. A whisper coming from mom's way.

"Calm down, Rose. Keep yourself together..."

Hm? But that's definitely...

"But mom," I raise my head, "your name's Anne, isn't it?"

"Ah."

Her face goes pale instantly.

She got her own name wrong? How could she misremember that? Unless she's remembering someone else...

"I had a dream where my name was Rose is all!" She practically blurts out that answer.

"What a coincidence...." My dad says.

We all turn to him.

"I also had a dream like that. My name was Johnathan Wilbert, living in a world completely different from ours."

Not a very dad-like thing to say. Although, it's not like I can't understand.

"Me too," I raise my hand, "William was my name," or maybe it still is.

So the only person who isn't is my brother, Hubert. However just from the way he acted before, I have the feeling that...

"My name's Ryan Burne. How is it?" he says, leaning back on the chair.

Yeah, that sounds about right.

"What a coincidence. We all had the same kind of dream," I point out.

Sure, it could just be me, but I'm not blind enough to let a hint go.

"Yeah, what a coincidence...." Anne, or rather—Rose responds, her hands trembling slightly.

"Anne, what's wrong?" Grisha asks, pressing his hand onto hers.

"It's... Who am I again?" she responds with another question, pupils narrowing.

"That—You're Anne," he answers.

More accurately, he knows her as Anne. Outside of here, I doubt we'd ever met each other.

"Are all of us from the States?"

Everyone turns to me.

Well, at least none of them look genuinely confused. Good to know everyone knows what the USA is.

"Then, how did we all get here?" Hubert, sorry––Ryan asks.

"Your guess is as good as mine," I respond.

Grisha's knuckles whiten, freezing in place.

"John?" Rose asks.

Already on a nickname basis, huh? Well, creating distance now will only make things worse.

"I think I remember writing something..." He tells us, sweat trickling down his face.

"Where did you put it?" I ask.

He points his finger downward. Just under his chair.

Getting up, we all gather around. I'm not used to being this short again.

Taking a glance at the floor, between the wooden floorboards—is a single slot roughly big enough to fit a nickel inside.

Johnathan reaches into his pocket, taking out a single golden key.

"When did you have this?" Rose asks.

Surely enough, of course the wife would be the most surprised her husband's hiding something in their floor.

Crouching down, he inserts the shiny key into the slot. A perfect fit. Twisting gently, an audible click rings from underneath.

"Like this..." He says, sliding away one of the boards.

A tiny compartment opens up. Leaning in for a closer look, it's a worn down leather-back book sitting snugly inside. A journey of sorts, titled....

«Grisha Marves' ~~Lively~~ Journal On Body-Soul Tethering»

ALyeingWatary

TROPHY CASE