Behind the clamor of shattered chains and the fading chill of ice, a new kind of silence was born—a silence that did not mean peace, but rather the final inhale before an explosion. In that moment, Kyle no longer saw the "Undercity" nor the faces surrounding him; the pulse in his chest began weaving a parallel reality, where the laws of matter ceased and the laws of the soul took over. He wasn't escaping the hall—he was diving deep within himself, to face the truth whose shadow had haunted him since that rainy day… a truth that carried a strange name, and a voice his blood recognized before his ears did.
In the Mirage of Consciousness
Kyle closed his eyes, and the world slipped from beneath his feet.
He found himself standing in a vast void—no ground, no sky. The air was heavy, like mercury, and the silence sharp as a blade.
Then… the light emerged.
A thin strand of cold light began weaving human features before his eyes. Features that were not unfamiliar at all.
"You…" his voice came out heavy with memory.
He remembered that rainy day… the crowd, the screams: "Aria! Princess of Light!"… that overwhelming feeling when her light split the clouds. While everyone else saw her as salvation, Kyle saw something else.
"I saw you that day…" Kyle said, his gaze burning intensely. "Back then, I didn't feel comfort from your light… I felt provoked. I felt a sudden hunger in my chest—as if I wasn't looking at a savior… but at a target."
The luminous entity smiled—a cold smile, like an echo of distant memories.
"Because your heart knew the truth before your mind, Kyle. Light and darkness only meet to collide."
Aria moved closer. Her motion had no weight, yet her presence suffocated his will.
"All this pain… all this anger you think is yours…" she raised her hand and pointed to his chest, where that darkness pulsed. "It's nothing but programmed data. This is what Arkan designed for you."
Kyle froze in place. It felt as though lightning had struck his mind.
"Arkan?" The name echoed within him like thunder. Shock paralyzed his thoughts for seconds.
"Th-that's my name!" Kyle shouted, confusion tearing at his face. "I'm Kyle Arkan… why does this person share my family name?!"
He clenched his fist so tightly his knuckles turned white.
"Who is this person? What is his connection to me? Why does a stranger—the one who designed this 'curse' in my chest—share the only family name I have?!"
Aria looked at him with a mysterious gaze—not one that held clear answers, but one filled with deep pity.
"He didn't just give you a name… he gave you a direction. He drew a path for you that begins with blood and ends in ash. You are not a 'warrior,' Kyle… you are a 'project' that has yet to be completed."
She touched him—and the world exploded in his eyes.
He saw himself as nothing more than a tool… saw invisible threads stretching from Arkan, controlling every joint of his life.
He saw his future: a perfect weapon, moving under another's will.
"This is the 'design'…" Aria whispered in his ear.
Aria went still, her luminous eyes piercing through Kyle's being as if reading his genetic code.
"You are not just a fugitive, Kyle… you are the grand prize in a war you haven't even begun to understand."
She stepped closer—so close that the blade of light forming her body nearly touched the dark pulse in his chest.
"There are two poles pulling you now… Arkan, the leader of the organization, who sees you as nothing more than an extension of his will; he will try to break you and mold you into the weapon that purifies the world with blood. And me? I am the Princess of Light … I will try to make you a beacon that extinguishes this rebellion."
She paused for a moment, a coldness like despair passing over her features.
"But I see the bitter truth within you… the seeds Arkan planted in your marrow—the hunger you felt toward my light the first time… they have already taken root. You lean toward darkness, because the 'design' Arkan placed in your blood is stronger than any attempt at salvation."
Aria's image began to fade as Kyle neared returning to consciousness, but her voice lingered like a whispering wind:
"Beware of Rio, Kyle… for the guide who knows the path this well is often the one who drew it. Do not trust the hand that breaks your chains—it may be the same hand that chooses your next prison."
Kyle's eyes widened in the void. "What do you mean? Rio helped me!"
But the light suddenly burst, and the last thing he heard was her fading whisper:
"The threads you cannot see… are the ones truly choking you."
Kyle jolted back to consciousness in the "Undercity."
Rio still had his hand on Kyle's shoulder, his eyes watching him with sharp caution.
"I saw her…" Kyle said in a low voice—but it carried a weight that unsettled everyone around him.
"What did you see?" Rio asked, tense.
Kyle looked at his hands, then at the dark horizon of the Undercity, while his mind still echoed with the name Arkan.
"I saw the chains they call power… and I saw the name that haunts my blood."
He lifted his head, his gaze piercing through the darkness with a chilling coldness.