Can you hear me?

  Theo heard the voice echo across the cosmos in his dreams.

  The moon bled, and then a small stone fell from the sky.

  Small at first—but it soon became an enormous wreckage capable of covering the clouds. A shadow spread across the ground, forming the silhouette of a wolf in the darkness.

  The stone fell, the earth trembled, and from the crater it opened, a tree was born.

  Its branches stretched toward the clouds and made fruits of the stars. Its roots touched the horizon, embracing the earth as a child would embrace its mother.

  Frightened, Theo ran backward. That was when everything around the tree turned to water. The ground vanished and he drowned, his small arms flailing in desperation.

  Do you hear me, child bathed in gold?

  The voice rippled through the lake like that of a young lady.

  Remember that you came from clay… and to it you must return…

  The pressure of the water flooded his ears, making him feel as if his head would explode.

  Remember that destiny gives… but soon it will take…

  “Theo!”

  He was shaken by Stephany, who called to him amid the thunder.

  Theo awoke abruptly, lying on the floor beside a glass window. He was completely soaked and quickly understood why: Chloe was closing the window, frightened by the situation of Young Master Lawrence.

  A storm was striking the capital at that moment, lightning tearing through the dark clouds.

  At some point that afternoon, Theo had climbed down from his bed while still asleep and moved until he stopped beneath the open window. The rain had attacked quickly, leaving little time before they reached his room to check on him; fortunately, Stephany had arrived fast.

  “Chloe, bring him a blanket!” Stephany ordered, alarmed.

  She dragged the boy to a cushioned bench, where Chloe handed her a blanket to wrap Theo against the cold.

  Touching his face with trembling hands, Stephany tried to cover him properly, being careful with his broken arm.

  “Are you alright?” she asked.

  But he didn’t answer.

  The boy responded only with silence. His eyes were wide, breathless, full of despair. The distress was obvious, though its origin was not.

  He bit his trembling lips. He could barely look her in the eyes.

  He felt heavy, as if his heart had been stabbed.

  “Alright…” she murmured, taking a breath. “Do you want something to drink? Something warm.”

  “Ah…” he exhaled, releasing a refreshing breath. “Coffee…”

  Chloe raised her eyebrows, confused by the request.

  “Coffee?” she asked for confirmation.

  “Yes… coffee.”

  Nodding slightly, Stephany pushed herself up using the boy’s knee. Clearing her throat, she looked at her daughter.

  “Chloe, stay here with him. I’ll go get some coffee.”

  “Alright, Mom,” she agreed.

  She waited a few seconds after her mother left the room before throwing herself into a small armchair. Crossing her arms and legs, she frowned while staring at Theo with a hint of sarcasm.

  “Ha…” A laugh escaped her. “Coffee? What kind of child prefers coffee over chocolate?”

  Hiding beneath the cozy blanket and biting the edge of its seam, Theo grunted softly in protest.

  “Smart people drink tea,” she declared proudly, puffing out her chest.

  Finally his posture broke; Theo laughed at the terrible performance.

  “You think tea will make you smarter?” he asked, his expression twisted while still hidden behind the blanket.

  “What? Are you saying I’m dumb?”

  “Well look at that… You can interpret the basics!”

  “That’s an insult!” she exclaimed, jumping from the chair.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  “Look… do you even know what an insult is?”

  “Do you know who my father is?!”

  “The little puppy of Grandpa, I suppose…” Theo replied. “Well, obviously. He kept trying to challenge my father just to earn Mr. Leon’s admiration, but he doesn’t have the courage or the power for that…”

  “Hey!”

  “But well… Grandpa Leon himself seeks Father’s admiration…” Theo muttered thoughtfully, curling deeper into the blanket.

  “I’m going to tell Dad! Then you’ll—” she began, staring at him. But the boy was sincere, not merely testing her patience. “You’ll see!”

  “I’m terrified…” Theo said, staring into nothingness, as if hypnotized by his own thoughts.

  Chloe huffed loudly, stomped her foot, and stormed away in dramatic steps.

  Theo didn’t care.

  He remained completely immersed in thought, trying to understand why Elijah and Leon had treated Ethan that way. Normally, the youngest son should seek inspiration—not become its source.

  The simple answer was—

  “That’s power, boy,” said a voice inside him.

  As if it were his own voice.

  He recognized it instantly—and wished he hadn’t. He could have lived a life without hearing that tone: confident, yet empty of purpose. A hollow, lifeless voice.

  “Everything comes down to power. Here and anywhere else…”

  Theo refused to look to the side.

  He felt a cold wind coming from there—but the window was closed. The hallway wasn’t open either, so the wind couldn’t have come through the door. Recognizing his own voice, his eyes filled with tears, and he curled deeper into the blanket.

  “Go away,” he murmured, weighed down.

  “I can’t. I’m your conscience, kid,” Liam said, sitting on the bed beside him. “You know, it’s actually nice. I don’t feel pain when I talk; my throat isn’t cut open. I don’t have to walk around or wander… I can just stay here, floating, while you do everything for me… except think.”

  Hugging his knees, Theo pulled the blanket tighter and tried to cover his ears.

  “This body is far healthier than mine ever was. Your mind thinks a lot, but you limit it because you’re afraid of trauma…”

  “Your trauma,” Theo muttered.

  “Kid… that’s true.”

  Liam jumped off the bed and wandered around the room, examining some sophisticated furniture. He studied every detail carefully, nearly irritating the Young Master. Then he looked at the ceiling; he even stepped into the corridor and shouted—though no one else could hear him. Finally, he stopped at the window, watching the rain grow heavier.

  It was a normal rain for Egon, but destructive for Romerian. A storm. Liam crossed his arms and could only imagine the weakness of that royalty.

  They were in one of the smaller castles along the wall near the Imperial Castle; even so, they were closer to the poverty of the Capital than to the Emperor himself. The wall stretched beyond human sight—another capital entirely.

  “Back in Egon we were only three floors above the common folk…” he said aloud.

  Looking at the clouds, arms behind his back, he continued,

  “Your great-uncle is afraid of being killed? Why would they put someone like that in power? Someone without power…”

  “Can you stop with your… pointless monologues?”

  Liam turned, suppressing a smile.

  “Well… was that a suggestion?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “Then I don’t want to stop. After all, I’m talking to you.”

  “Then you’re talking to yourself.”

  Sliding across the floor with long strides, Liam dropped onto Theo’s back and sat there.

  “Not exactly… Your body, your life, your relationships—they’re all yours. You’re my opposite. At your age, I would have been running on weak legs, barely able to crawl through mud.”

  “Please… shut up.”

  “Your conscience weighs heavily, doesn’t it? How can someone keep their eyes closed for so long? There’s such a beautiful world out there…”

  “Not that beautiful.”

  Liam fell silent instinctively. He stared at the ceiling before pressing down on Theo’s back again.

  “How sad. I used to admire your view of the world. It was clean, colorful—like a fairy tale. But death appeared. So this is the new you? Someone depressing who can’t overcome what he saw?”

  “Why do you care so much about me?” Theo muttered, sniffling.

  “Because I’m you. Isn’t that enough? We’re like opposite faces… I’m the bad decisions; you’re the good ones. I’m strong; you’re far too weak…”

  Theo clicked his tongue, his heart heavy.

  “You’ve already given up on living, haven’t you?”

  “Why are you disturbing my mind?” Theo asked. “Give me a reason… a reason why you’ve been in my memory since that day.”

  “Because…” Liam paused.

  He stood up and walked around until he faced Theo.

  “If you decide to die because of this cataclysm, you won’t face the next storms. You know that. I’m showing you my memories, but you refuse to carry that burden.”

  Lowering the blanket from his face, the Young Master stared at the wooden floor—at the feet of the former general.

  “I am the conscience and you are the body. But if my body has decided it doesn’t want to live… then I must claim my right.”

  “You think you have any rights here?”

  Hands emerged from the floor, grabbing Ethan’s feet, climbing his legs, reaching his heart—

  “Yes. I do. They took away my right to rest after death just to trap me inside the body of a spoiled child. So if you want to die, say it already. I’ll take our responsibilities and make Ethan proud.”

  “Don’t mention him…”

  “Why shouldn’t I? You’re pathetic. A poor wretch hiding behind my trauma—yet you couldn’t endure your own. If you’re going to be weak, then you’ll die.”

  With eyes drowning in anger, Theo stared at himself—the conscience carrying so much power and death. His gaze climbed the black hands, rotting in decomposition, gripping the reflection of his soul.

  Then he found the sky-blue eyes that should have been drowning in pain.

  But they were overflowing with confidence.

  “Think you can handle this burden, boy?” Liam said, his eyes slipping between extended claws. “If you say you can… I’ll leave you alone until you realize you can’t.”

  “Deal,” Theo replied impulsively, grinding his teeth in anger.

  “Wonderful. See you soon… golden child,” Liam mocked, a wicked smile appearing.

  The hands consumed the former general, erasing him from Theo’s distorted vision. But the hands themselves surged forward like a shadow, flowing like thick black liquid across the floor.

  The same liquid climbed the blanket, gripping the boy’s legs in excruciating pain. Claws dug into the feathers—it struck the soul instead of the flesh.

  But Theo endured.

  He bit his lips and clutched the blanket. His brain reeled from lack of air as his body twisted with internal cold. His heart was stabbed with sharp pains, as though pierced by swords.

  Yet he endured in silence.

  Struggling not to scream, tears streaming down his face as heat spread through his soaked body. Taking control of a mind that had seen nothing but death shaped like clouds and a black knight, he remained calm.

  He breathed and controlled his anxiety—even though he no longer wished to.

  For one of the burdens Liam had left him, the answer was simple.

  To live—for himself and for those who could no longer live.

  To be strong—for himself and for the weak who could not defend themselves.

  A moral code belonging to someone who had never followed it.

  But it was his chance to prove the fruits of his sins—and to understand the sin that had caused so much pain.

  The world shone again in the eyes of a child who should never have stopped seeing the light.

  Crying, hidden beneath the blanket and flooded with memories of pain, he murmured, trapped within himself:

  “I want to live… God. Just live…”