Subaru drifted in a dark void after death.
Nothingness... had devoured his soul before it ever touched his body. His very existence was dissolving—as if submerged in an alien sea, where every drop stripped away his humanity. There was no up, no down, no light or dark. Just endless pressure, like the weight of unspoken truths pressing inward from all sides.
His body no longer obeyed him—or perhaps it no longer even existed. Time, direction, weight... all of it was gone. The senses were drowned in silence, and even thought itself began to fade, eroded by the stillness. Emotions scattered like ash, with only the faintest embers of fear and confusion glowing in the void.
Then— He began to fall.
At first, he didn't even feel it. He had forgotten what it meant to fall. But then, the weight returned. Not as a burden, but as a punishment. As if gravity itself judged his being unworthy. As if the universe demanded a reckoning.
And after that— He crashed.
"Ow... Would a gentler landing be too much to ask?" he groaned, his voice echoing in the void, yet heard by no ears but his own. It was more a reflex than a complaint—proof that he still existed.
A voice pierced the darkness.
"You'll get used to it, Natsuki Subaru."
Cold. Calm. And somehow... familiar. Like an old memory viewed through fogged glass. Like a dream barely remembered, yet heavy with significance.
Subaru turned around. Standing there was the same figure who still called himself "the former Natsuki Subaru."
Snow-white hair. Two differently colored eyes. A presence that carried the weight of countless decisions and unspeakable regrets. And a face like stone—void of all emotion. The kind of face that had long since stopped believing in tears.
Yet he looked nothing like Subaru. Not truly.
Subaru squinted. He stared at the figure—at himself, or at least something claiming to be. A mirror cracked and darkened by a thousand reflections.
"This... is supposed to be me?"
The question echoed endlessly in his mind. And every answer slammed against the same wall:
"No… it can't be."
"Those eyes… that hair… that emotionless face. I've never been like that. I refuse to be like that."
But then—
A whisper rose inside him. Familiar. Dark. And echoing like a chasm.
He met the figure's gaze.
There was no depth in those eyes. Only an abyss. And the abyss stared back.
For a moment, Subaru saw his own fear within them. The part of himself he buried, silenced, suppressed. The side of him that didn't cry out, but accepted the screams. That endured, not because of hope, but because despair had become familiar.
"I don't know this man, and I don't want to be like him. But why does a voice inside me say... he's closer to me than I am to myself?"
His breath tightened. His heart… felt like it was being forced to remember things he never wanted to. Regrets piled atop each other, like bones in a forgotten grave.
Even so, he didn't look away.
"Is he a piece of me? Or am I just a leftover scrap of him?"
And then—Flugel's voice split the void:
"Natsuki Subaru, as entertaining as it is to see you struggle with identity, you must return. But before that… we need to talk."
Subaru remembered where he was. He stood—or floated. There were no feet, no ground... Yet he moved forward. Compelled, perhaps, by the gravity of meaning itself.
And then— Light burst forth.
The void trembled. A blinding light filled everything, washing away the nothingness. Shapes and color returned, born from memory and imagination. The chaos gave way to structure. Echoes of normalcy clung to the edges of perception.
And in an instant, he found himself inside a middle school classroom.
No chalk dust lingered in the air. No students laughed or whispered. Yet it wasn't unfamiliar either. It felt… engraved into his soul. Like a carving left behind by time.
Flugel stood by the window, hands clasped behind his back. He was staring out, as if peering through time. The sunlight glinted through the glass, but the shadows clung to him stubbornly.
"As much as I prefer the shadows, this setting suits you better," he said.
His eyes were still empty. Not blank, but filled with meaning too vast to grasp. Like a sea whose depths no one had dared to chart.
"You and Echidna share similar tastes. Tell me—did you two strike a deal?" Subaru asked, curiosity slipping into suspicion.
Flugel paused for a moment, as if searching through his memories. "No," he answered bluntly. "That woman only ever makes deals for her own gain. Greed-Subaru suffered for that."
"Greed, is it? So... there are others besides us?" Subaru couldn't hide his surprise. The word rang with a deeper truth. Each syllable felt like the edge of a knife pressing into fate.
Flugel rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. He now resembled a teacher dealing with a student he was all too familiar with. Not annoyed—but resigned.
"I'll tell you a part of it, Natsuki Subaru. But only a part. The rest... you must live through to understand."
Subaru nodded slowly. Inside him, there was more curiosity than fear. A thirst for answers—answers wrapped in suffering. Because sometimes, answers were scarier than questions.
And in this strange place, where light met shadow and memory blurred with truth, Subaru realized:
This was not just a conversation. It was a crossroads.
And whichever path he took next... it would change everything.
Flugel locked eyes with him.
"Your life… is the sum of your choices."
His voice was calm. But every word… echoed in the void. Like truth. Like an unbreakable blade cutting through illusion. Like a hammer against fragile glass.
"Every 'what if' is a fork in the road," he continued, slowly pacing in the darkness. "What if you had waited just a little longer... What if you had trusted someone else... What if you hadn't been afraid..."
Each word fell like a stone into Subaru's chest. With every passing moment, the air thickened. Time itself seemed to hesitate, as if straining to listen.
As Flugel walked, gray silhouettes began to form around them. Like drifting wraiths through the mist of the system. Each one looked like Subaru. But there was something off. None of their eyes met his. Their gazes were vacant. As though looking inward, trapped in paths long abandoned.
Flugel pointed with his finger—one by one:
"A Subaru who swore vengeance." (Wrath IF) His fists clenched, his eyes burning like dying stars.
"A Subaru who chose to kill." (Pride IF) Blood staining his hands, a smile carved in denial.
"A Subaru who made a pact with Echidna." (Greed IF) Knowledge swirling in his gaze, but something hollow beneath.
"And the one you fear most: Subaru who chose to forget." (Sloth IF) One who left the past behind and fled with the woman he loved.
Subaru took a step back. His heart was pounding. Each breath tasted of iron and ice.
Silhouettes. Not himself. But versions he could have become. Twisted echoes of his soul.
"Are these… just possibilities?" he asked, voice barely audible.
Flugel slowly shook his head.
"No. You can't become them because they..." "…never met me."
His smile was faint, but the meaning it carried was as sharp as a dagger.
"But know this — every choice comes with a cost. Whichever path you choose… you carry the burden of the ones you don't. Like echoes that follow even when the door is shut."
Subaru fell silent. Words abandoned him. Because Flugel's words didn't just reach his ears — they struck the depths of his soul. They peeled back the layers he'd tried to bury.
Flugel turned his gaze to the darkness. As if he wasn't speaking to Subaru, but to fate itself:
"If you ask me, the most dangerous question is always this: 'What could have been?'"
"Because you'll never know the answer. But it'll keep gnawing at you from the inside. Like a worm in the core of who you are."
Subaru lowered his head for a moment. Something welled up inside him — Was it regret? Fear? Or simply the weight of everything he'd lost?
Then he lifted his head and slowly nodded. As if accepting it. As if he understood there was no escape. As if the chains of causality had finally revealed their shape.
Flugel snapped his fingers. The void trembled slightly.
As if a curtain was being drawn. Like the stillness before a scene changes. Like the breath before a scream.
"Alright," he said. "Before you go back, let's grant the technique you just copied."
A transparent screen appeared before Subaru. It shimmered with a cold, bluish light. Lines emerged one by one like blinking stars. Code written in the language of souls.
[NEW SKILL ACQUIRED]
Name: Advanced Dagger Technique
Type: Passive Skill
Effect:
— Grants the user instinctive mastery in dagger combat.
— Enhances reflexes.
— Evolvable through branching sub-techniques.
Subaru squinted at the screen. Read each line again. But it didn't feel like a victory.
There was a tremble in his chest — this wasn't just a gain. It was the echo of a death.
"The dagger… that woman."
The memory returned in a flash. A dark room. A wooden floor soaked in blood… Emilia's pale hand... Death. Cold. And inadequacy.
That fleeting moment had now returned as a skill.
What a cruel system... A death turned into a technique. A failure immortalized as power.
He slowly turned around. His gaze drifted into the void— But his eyes were trapped in the past. Locked on images that wouldn't let go.
Flugel nodded.
"This is only the beginning."
He raised his hand. The translucent screen slowly faded. Darkness returned— but this time, it carried echoes within it. Layers of memory folded over memory.
Just as Subaru was about to speak,
Flugel continued:
"You can now use Soul Coins. Moments where your death resonates... They shape this currency. Each one formed from your endings— some tragic, some defiant. But all... irreversible."
Subaru's eyes widened.
"Soul Coins? You mean those things you get after missions? Are they just for… shopping?"
Flugel slowly shook his head, his eyes turning to Subaru with a weight they hadn't carried before. It felt like a secret was about to be revealed. A truth not even the system dared to speak aloud.
"No. They're more than that. Far more."
He snapped his fingers once more. The scenery changed instantly.
No longer just endless mirrors— Each mirror now shimmered with life.
Every reflection... was a different Subaru. Some wore armor. Others walked alone. Some stood victorious. Others broken.
Yet all their eyes were veiled by the same shadow.
The burden of knowledge. The cost of looping. The weight of choice.
And standing among them all— Subaru understood:
This wasn't the end. It was the prologue. And now he had to decide who he would become.
Flugel's voice echoed in the void:
"Soul Coins are not mere rewards. They are the crystallized echoes of your soul. They are tokens forged in the furnace of experience—each one shaped by choice, sacrifice, pain, and sometimes even acceptance."
He paused, letting the silence wrap around the weight of his words.
"Each Soul Coin carries the essence of a moment: a decision made in desperation, a death that left a scar, a regret that lingers, or a surrender that redefined who you are."
Subaru slowly turned around, his eyes scanning the shapeless space around him. Reflections hovered in the black—twisted mirror images suspended like ghostly specters. They watched him. But none of them were him. Not truly.
Each one was a version that had broken under pressure, yielded to madness, or strayed too far from who he believed himself to be.
Flugel continued, his voice low but vivid:
"With these Coins, you can shape yourself. Tailor your existence, mold your capabilities. Your Unseen Hand—one of your most familiar tools—can be refined. You could reshape its touch, alter its presence, even fuse it with the emotional residue from lives you've lived in different branches of fate."
"You can push beyond the boundaries of your Resonance. Not all abilities are of muscle or magic. Some respond to the tremors in your mind. These Soul Coins allow you to awaken dormant echoes within your psyche... or silence them if they begin to consume you."
"And there is more still. At times, they offer access to forbidden recollections—memories buried too deep to retrieve by will alone. They may belong to another Subaru from another path, one whose choices led to ruin or revelation. They may be moments lost in the system's archives—kept from you by design. But they are yours. And they can be returned... for a price."
Subaru's heartbeat pounded against his chest. His breath quickened, sharp and erratic.
This was too much. Too expansive. Too intimate. Too real.
He tried to ground himself, clutching at something—anything—that would stabilize his thoughts. And then, a single question cut through the noise in his mind:
"What about... Forgetting?"
His voice cracked slightly, jaw clenched, throat dry.
This time, Flugel's tone deepened. It felt heavier, like chains dragging through water. His words were soaked in sorrow, carrying the weight of remembrance and the chill of remorse.
"Some burdens... are too immense to carry forever. Sometimes, it's the death of a friend. Sometimes, it's the knowledge that your actions caused it. There are lives you'll take to protect those you love... and lives you'll fail to save despite every effort."
"And when these things begin to erode your soul—when the edges of your being start to crumble—the system offers you a final mercy:
For one Soul Coin, you may erase a memory. A regret. Even a death."
Subaru felt the words wrap around him like a noose.
He gasped. And what followed wasn't a question—it was a whisper from a fractured self:
"So I'm selling my reality..."
Flugel nodded solemnly. "Not selling. Exchanging. But remember—no change comes without cost. There is always a consequence to the forgetting of pain. Even numbness carries a price."
The air felt thicker now. Subaru lowered his head, fists curling tight at his sides. In his mind, Elsa's dagger plunged into his chest once more. The fear. The cold shock. The agonizing helplessness.
And yet…
The temptation to forget burned just as vividly.
He forced himself to speak: "If I erase that moment... will I lose the strength I gained from it too?"
Flugel didn't answer immediately. His expression hardened—somber and sharp.
"Some gains are rooted in pain. Without the memory, the lesson fades. Without the scar, the strength becomes hollow."
"Everything is cause and effect. Sever the cause... and the growth withers."
Subaru's hands trembled. Those horrible memories—were they just burdens? Or were they the very soil his resilience grew from?
Inside his skull, voices erupted. Hundreds of thoughts collided:
Regret screamed. Hope whispered. Exhaustion dragged. Curiosity flared.
And then, amidst the chaos, he asked:
"What about... buying someone else's memory?"
The question stopped the air itself. Even the echoes in the void dared not move.
Flugel stared at him. Then, a smile curled his lips—subtle, unreadable, like ink bleeding into water.
"Your thoughts walk a treacherous road, Natsuki Subaru."
"But yes. It is possible. That is the most forbidden transaction the system allows."
Subaru's shoulders sagged. He wasn't afraid of Flugel's riddles anymore. He was simply tired—tired of the lies, the illusions, the half-truths that painted his world.
If he could erase regrets, or purchase new perspectives, or overwrite who he was...
Then who was he becoming?
"Alright..." he said after a long pause, his voice steadier.
"From what I saw in the interface, I have ten Soul Coins. I think I earned them from defeating the bandits... and completing the quest that brought me to this place. To you."
Flugel gave a curt nod of confirmation.
Subaru inhaled slowly, pushing the pressure from his lungs.
"Is there any other feature I should know about? Something... you haven't told me yet?"
Flugel yawned, stretching lazily. Apparently, philosophical revelations were exhausting.
"[Inventory]," he muttered, as if casually mentioning socks.
At once, a semi-transparent interface unfurled before Subaru. Its structure was minimal, almost sterile.
But there it was. The first slot glowed faintly. Within it— the daggers taken from the bandits.
Subaru hesitated, then reached toward the screen. His fingers passed through the projection like mist— and the daggers materialized in his palms with a soft chime.
He blinked. "That... was easier than I thought."
Flugel offered a faint nod, a flicker of approval ghosting through his eyes.
Subaru tightened his grip around the blades.
"Okay. I want an ability I can use. Something active. Something I can buy with these Soul Coins."
Flugel snapped his fingers.
Immediately, four magical windows formed in front of Subaru. Each shimmered with a distinct hue— crimson, indigo, jade, and obsidian.
They didn't look like descriptions. They looked like invitations.
Each one, a portal. Each one, a door to a future shaped by choice.
[Mana Blade]
Type: Active Skill
Effects:
— Channels mana into your dagger, sharpening its edge beyond physical limits.
— Allows attacks that bypass most magical and physical defenses.
— Attack potency weakens gradually as mana depletes.
— Mana consumption decreases with repeated use and improved mastery.
— In rare cases, may destabilize lesser enchantments on contact.
"If battle is an intersection, this skill is the dagger's sharpest point. And in the clash of fate, the sharper path always cuts deeper."
[Void Step]
Type: Active Skill
Effects:
— Instantly appear behind an enemy within short to medium range.
— Overuse causes mana feedback, reducing effective range and causing nausea.
— Requires intense mental focus and a clear target location.
— Can be chained with attacks for ambush combos.
"One moment you exist, the next you don't. But for whom does that silence fall — the predator, or the prey?"
[Soul Drain]
Type: Active Skill
Effects:
— Extract latent energy from a slain foe's soul to gain temporary enhancements.
— Boosts endurance, speed, and reaction time for a limited duration.
— Can be upgraded with Soul Coins to increase duration and magnitude.
— Target must perish within a five-second window of the user's strike.
— Using on high-soul entities may yield unique bonuses.
"No true change occurs without a soul taken. The question is: how many changes can you withstand before you forget who you were?"
[Phantom Strike]
Type: Active Skill
Effects:
— Mid-strike, your dagger splits into two phantom blades of energy.
— First hit stuns the target, the second delivers enhanced critical damage.
— Slightly reduces the user's speed for 2 seconds after activation.
— Balanced mana cost for rapid, agile users.
— Phantoms leave residual echoes that confuse low-will enemies.
"Shadows dance in pairs. But which one is real — and which one cuts deeper?"
Subaru's mind reeled with the implications.
The glowing windows before him weren't just simple skill screens—they were crossroads, luminous keys each unlocking a distinct future.
[Phantom Strike] glimmered with speed and surprise. Fast, fluid, and deadly in its dance. But what if the blades split too soon? What if the phantom left him exposed mid-swing? A weapon's betrayal wasn't a setback—it was a death sentence.
[Mana Blade], by contrast, radiated clarity. Channeling his will directly into the blade meant reliability. Every cut, powered by determination and essence. Yet mana was a finite fuel, and Subaru's understanding of it barely scratched the surface. Would he collapse in the middle of a drawn-out fight?
[Void Step] whispered promises of escape and clever ambush. Blink behind the enemy—slip away unseen. But not all battles were meant to be run from. Not every enemy allowed retreat.
[Soul Drain] throbbed with temptation. The idea of stealing a slain foe's power—it was seductive. But what would it cost? The act of taking another's essence left traces. Residues of violence. Would it consume more than mana?
Subaru's heart pounded in his chest.
He needed to grow stronger. He needed to survive. And to do that, he had to choose.
"I need to survive first," he muttered under his breath. "To grow stronger… I have to live through this. Again and again."
He closed his eyes. A beat of silence passed. The noise of the void quieted.
Then, with steady clarity:
"I choose [Mana Blade]."
The words cut the silence like steel. Echoed not just in his mind, but rippled through the void like a sword drawn in ceremony. The weight of indecision lifted. Fear retreated. Resolve stepped in.
Flugel tilted his head, one brow raised in curious amusement.
"Interesting," he said. "Didn't expect that. But I won't argue." A snap of his fingers echoed like a gavel falling.
"10 Soul Coins. Paid. You'll need this. And more. True battles await."
A cold shimmer pulsed before Subaru. The screen glitched slightly—then stabilized.
[NEW SKILL OBTAINED]
Mana Blade (Active) Sync Rate: 10%
— Mana-infused attacks pierce defenses with precision.
— Efficiency increases with deeper mastery.
— Critical damage scales proportionally with current mana reserves.
— Can evolve into higher forms via resonance events.
[Soul Coins: -10] [QUEST COMPLETE]
Subaru stared. The Soul Coins were gone. Ten shards of death, gone in an instant.
But what he felt wasn't loss. It was foundation. Purpose. A step forward.
"Mana Blade isn't just a skill now," he whispered. "It's my weapon. A reflection of my will… and it will grow with me."
Flugel studied him for a few seconds longer, then nodded.
"Wise," he said. "Mana's balance is fragile, but if you learn its rhythm, you won't just fight—you'll flow through battle like a tide."
Subaru exhaled, breath sharp and ready. "I'm ready."
Flugel turned, steps fading into the dark. But before he vanished, he left a final echo:
"Our talks end here. Try not to die, Natsuki Subaru."
A wry, cryptic smile followed. "Next time… I might not answer."
The void responded with silence—
Then swallowed Subaru whole.
"Round two," he murmured as he fell into the dark, "…begins."