"No." Scar took a rigid step back, his voice slicing through the heavy silence of the dining hall. "No, that's impossible. Y-You're not her. You can't be her."
Felicity remained seated, her expression soft, entirely devoid of the all powerful matriarch persona. "I know it is difficult to grasp, Roy, but—"
"Don't call me that!" Scar snapped, his eyes blazing with a mix of panic and fury. He pointed an accusatory finger at her. "You're messing with my mind. You dug into my head, found the one thing you knew I considered sensitive, and now you're using it to manipulate me. You're just trying to give me a reason to stay."
"I am not manipulating you," Felicity said gently, her gaze unwavering. "I am telling you the truth. Believe me, I was just as shocked as you are when I found out. And I know it seems entirely too convenient, but it is just a coincidence. A perfectly good, miraculous coincidence. I was expecting a complete stranger to be reincarnated into the body of my dead son, but it turned out to actually be my sons. From a previous life."
Scar's chest heaved. His mind desperately tried to rip her logic apart. "If that's true... if you're her... how are you here? How is that even physically possible?"
"You died and your consciousness crossed the boundaries of the multiverse to inhabit a seventeen-year-old boy's body," Felicity pointed out calmly. "If you were able to reincarnate into an already existing vessel, why is it so impossible to believe that I was simply reborn as well?"
Scar processed this. He understood the fundamental concepts of reincarnation, the laws of karma, and the cycle of rebirth. It was the only way to explain his own existence right now. But a glaring inconsistency remained.
"That doesn't add up," he countered, his eyes narrowing. "Reincarnation is different from rebirth. Even if you were reborn into a new world as a newborn, you shouldn't have the memories of your past lives. It's simply not possible. So how could you possibly know and be so sure about what you're saying?"
Felicity let out a slow, heavy sigh, looking down at her hands. "It is a long story. But... long before you arrived in this world, when I was still just a teenager, my magical core reached a point of singularity. I was able to fully unlock my abilities and that inadvertently allowed me to defy the fundamental laws of the universe. I could do things that simply shouldn't be possible—including tearing through the seals placed on my soul and seeing the lives I've lived before this one."
She looked up, her sapphire eyes glistening with unshed tears. "But the memories didn't come back all at once. They came to me as dreams. Trances. Flashes of worlds without mana or monsters. But the one memory that was always the most vivid... was the one where I was the mother of a young, beautiful boy. And I died in a terrible car crash, leaving him all alone in the cruel world." A tear finally slipped down her cheek. "That was the life I lived before this one. I know how ridiculous it sounds, but it is the truth. And I wish there was a way I could prove it to you, but there isn't."
Scar stared at her. His heart pounded against his ribs. The details were agonizingly precise. But the walls he had built around his soul were too thick, forged from years of surviving in a brutal reality. He couldn't let himself believe it. To believe it would mean making himself completely vulnerable.
"Stop it," Scar said, his voice dropping to a cold, trembling whisper. "Just stop. Using the memory of my dead mother to manipulate me is completely unacceptable. I already agreed to stay. I already told you I would fight. So why would you still go to these lengths just to leash me?"
Felicity recoiled, the accusation striking her harder than any physical blow ever could. Her shoulders slumped, and the immense, powerful aura of the Ice Queen shattered completely, leaving behind a profoundly broken woman.
She looked at his hardened, cynical expression, and realized she had pushed too far. He truly didn't believe her.
"Okay," Felicity whispered, quickly wiping her cheek. She offered a fragile, defeated nod. "I didn't expect you to believe me anyway. I only told you this as a sign of good faith... to show you that I have nothing else to hide." She took a shaky breath, forcing her composure back into place. "But I see now that it was a mistake. I shouldn't have brought it up. I'm sorry. I just hope this won't make you change your mind about staying."
Scar watched her closely. Her grief felt overwhelmingly real. For a fleeting second, he considered that she might actually be telling the truth. But his logic quickly built a safer narrative: She's grieving. She had just lost her actual son—the original Henry—to a cruel twist of fate. The trauma and desperation must have caused her psychic mind to subconsciously leech onto his memories, blurring the lines until she genuinely believed his past was her own.
He didn't blame her for losing her grip on reality. Instead of lashing out, he stepped forward, his tone shifting into something detached, yet consoling.
"It's fine," Scar said quietly. "I understand that losing your son must have been hard on you." He pulled out the chair and sat back down, signaling a shift in the dynamic. The emotional reunion was over; the business negotiation had begun.
"And I haven't changed my mind. I will stay," Scar continued, his eyes locking onto hers. "But I have certain conditions."
Felicity raised a brow, surprised and curious. She wasn't expecting him to make demands.
"First, you must provide whatever resources, weapons, or information I ask for," Scar began, "Second, you are not to dictate my life. There is no mother-son relationship between us and you don't get to call the shots. I am free to make my own decisions, and you don't interfere."
Felicity looked at him, the sorrow in her eyes slowly hardening back into the pragmatic sharpness of a businesswoman. She folded her hands on the table.
"Okay," she agreed. "But I have a few conditions, too. First, I will provide anything you ask for, but in return, you will do what I ask of you."
Scar frowned. That condition went against his own. He wasn't expecting about to argue but Felicity wasn't finished.
"I am placing this condition for your own good," she said. "I have vastly more experience in this world than you do, and I am not going to ask you to do anything illegal. You can't still refuse to do whatever you consider uncomfortable or inappropriate. I won't force you."
Scar offered a curt nod. "Fine. Next."
"Second," Felicity continued, her voice gaining strength. "We will not have a mother-son relationship in private, but we absolutely Must in public. We have to put on the perfect act in front of everyone—including Emily. If you start acting like a complete stranger, it will raise suspicions we cannot afford."
"That's acceptable," Scar replied. He was already a master of playing the amnesiac Henry anyway.
"And finally," Felicity's eyes narrowed, the temperature in the room dropping several degrees. "You are free to do whatever you want, but you are not to cause trouble, and you absolutely will not harm anyone I care about. You almost took Emily's life yesterday. And I overlooked it for the sake of the universe and the circumstances of your awakening. But if you try something like that again..." her gaze hardened. "...I will not hesitate to kill you."
Scar met her lethal gaze without flinching. He weighed the terms. They were fair, tactical, and beneficial to his immediate survival.
"Agreed," Scar said.
Felicity's stern expression dissolved into a polite, diplomatic smile. She stood up from the table, smoothing the fabric of her dark evening gown.
"Good. Then you are officially welcome to the Myers household," she said, her tone brisk and businesslike. "We shall discuss your training regimen tomorrow. There's no time to lose."
She turned and began walking toward the grand exit of the dining hall. As she reached the archway, she paused and looked back over her shoulder.
"Come along," Felicity called out. "There's one more thing we have to take care of."
Scar stood up, his brows furrowing in mild confusion. "What's that?"
Felicity smiled softly. "Your sister." Then she continued walking.
Scar followed Felicity as she glided out of the dining and toward the grand staircase, her dark evening gown trailing over the frosted marble.
"So, what exactly are we going to do?" Scar asked, keeping his voice low as they ascended the steps toward the private wing.
"We are going to set things straight," Felicity replied calmly.
Scar took the opportunity to probe the glaring omission from their earlier conversation. "You never answered my question earlier. About the 'We' you claimed to be working with. Who is he? Or who are they?"
Felicity didn't break her stride. She merely glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "Why do you think it's a he? Could be a she, y'know. Or perhaps a bunch of shes." She joked.
Scar rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I doubt that."
Felicity chuckled. "You were right about one thing though. I do know him very well. But that is all I can tell you for now."
Scar scoffed silently, but he didn't push the matter further. Her deflection was an answer in itself. It confirmed his theory: the man holding the cosmic barrier was actively working with her. And given the way she had defensively spoken about him earlier, Scar suspected they were intimately related—perhaps family. But he filed that deduction away for later. Right now, there were more immediate issues to deal with.
They reached the middle of the corridor and stopped in front of Emily's door. Felicity knocked gently.
"Emily, darling?" She called out. "Are you there? Can mommy come in?"
"I'm busy," Emily's muffled voice called back from the other side, sounding thick and exhausted.
Felicity didn't hesitate. She pushed the door open anyway and stepped inside, Scar trailing a few paces behind her.
The room was dimly lit by the glow of a massive holographic screen projecting a movie. Emily was curled up in the center of her large bed, buried under a thick, weighted blanket. Her usually pristine hair was a messy, tangled bird's nest, her beautiful face was pale, and her eyes were heavily reddened from crying. A half-empty bag of chips rested on her lap.
She didn't even look up when the door opened. "I said I was busy, Mom," she scolded without taking her eyes off the screen.
"She doesn't look busy to me," Scar scoffed silently.
But Emily heard it clearly. "Yeah, I am. I'm busy drowning my sorrows," she muttered bitterly. Just then her eyes widened as she fully processed the voice. Her gaze flicked from the screen to the doorway sharply.
The moment her eyes registered the boy standing behind her mother, the atmosphere in the room instantly plummeted to freezing. It was the same face. The face of the monster that had pinned her to the floor and held an ice shard to her throat.
Emily snapped up like a coiled spring. The bag of chips spilled across the sheets as a jagged, foot-long dagger of solid ice materialized in her grip. "What the hell is he doing in here?!" she yelled, her voice cracking with pure panic and bloodlust.
Felicity stepped forward immediately, raising her hands in a soothing gesture. "Emily, put the ice down and calm yourself. He is here to apologize."
Emily raised a skeptical, furious brow. "He is?"
Scar blinked, genuinely thrown off guard. He looked at Felicity. "I am?"
"Yes. You are," Felicity said, shooting him a warning glance that promised violence if he broke script. She walked over to the bed, gently pressing a hand to Emily's shoulder, urging her to sit back down. She eyed Scar for a moment, her chest heaving, before she finally let the ice dagger dissolve into mist and sat close to her mother.
Felicity smiled softly, taking Emily's trembling hand in hers. "I understand what you're going through, sweetheart, and I am so very sorry you had to experience that."
Emily scoffed, wiping a frustrated tear from her cheek. "That's funny, considering you were mad at me and supporting Henry yesterday."
Felicity sighed, brushing a strand of hair from Emily's face. "I wasn't supporting Henry. I was only trying not to put the entire blame on either of you. Henry wasn't himself, and you were carried away by your anger. But the truth is, it was my fault for not being there to supervise the training." She squeezed her daughter's hand. "But I am going to make it right. Starting now, by explaining the whole story."
Emily raised a brow. "Story?"
Felicity nodded. "It all started when Henry left the house and ventured into the forest..." she began to speak.
And for the next few minutes, Scar stood quietly in the corner of the room, listening in absolute awe as Felicity wove a masterclass of manipulation. She explained to Emily that when Henry had been lost in the forest, he had suffered a severe, traumatic head injury. This trauma, combined with the stress of his emotions, led to severe dissociative issues. His mind had literally fractured to protect itself, resulting in the development of three distinct personalities. It was the reason he seemed to have memory loss when they first found him.
"Out of the three, one was highly unstable and aggressive," Felicity explained smoothly, her voice laced with maternal sorrow. "That was the personality that surfaced and tried to hurt you yesterday. But you don't need to worry anymore, Emily. I went into his mind... and I eliminated it." Then she paused, letting the relief wash over her daughter. "The remaining two consciousnesses are very friendly."
Emily processed the information, her blue eyes wide. She asked a barrage of rapid-fire questions about the mechanics of the mind, the trauma, and the personalities, but Felicity parried every single one with flawless, logical half-truths.
Eventually, the tension bled completely out of Emily's shoulders. She bought the story entirely.
"Okay," Emily murmured, sniffing slightly. "But... can't you just merge those two back into one?"
Felicity shook her head sadly. "That is beyond my capabilities, darling. We will just have to live with him as he is, support him in any way we can, and hope that over time, he gets better."
Emily looked past her mother, her gaze landing on Scar standing silently in the corner. The bloodlust in her eyes was entirely gone, replaced by a profound, heavy pity. She sighed, her shoulders slumping.
"I can't believe I thought he had been replaced by an imposter," Emily whispered, mostly to Felicity, "when in truth, he was just suffering from a severe disorder." She looked down at her lap. "I'm really sorry."
She truly regretted her harsh actions from the previous days, but she shuddered slightly as she looked at Scar. It might not have been him in control, but it was still his face she saw when she was almost killed. That was still going to take a while to recover from. Or forgive.
Scar simply stood there, marveling at the sheer diabolical genius of the Ice Queen. She had perfectly combined the truth with a lie, fabricating a narrative so airtight and emotionally resonant that even he might have believed it if he didn't know better. She was a terrifyingly skilled story-teller. He was fascinated.
"It's okay, Emily," Felicity soothed. "You didn't know. I didn't fully know either until I received the full results of his brain scan earlier today." She offered a bright, encouraging smile. "This is just a chance for us to get to know Henry better. Well... Henry, and Roy."
Emily blinked, looking up. "You already gave the second one a name?"
Felicity smiled wryly. "Yes. So I can easily distinguish between them."
"Okay. That makes sense," Emily nodded. Then she looked directly at Scar. "So... who is this one?"
"This is Roy," Felicity said cheerfully. "Say hello, Roy."