In the depths of somewhere far where darkness reigns, Erebus opens his eyes to a mirror image of himself walking towards him. It is the sliver of consciousness that he has stored long ago in the black mana stone he traded with a human.
His other self still has an aura of the long-gone youth emitting from the temporary body. He watches his past self walking up the stairs to his throne.
Expecting how his past self would wish to beat him to a pulp, he stands from his throne to welcome the fists. However, his past self only looks at him with pity with a frown of a constipated look. His past self is righteous, beaming in hope and optimism, so he would have expected to receive punches for his downfall after his past self gains his long life memories.
"She is truly dead, right?" His past self, with a heartbroken tone, asks his present self.
"Yeah… I wish to have at least the remains that she left behind in that world."
