Did I truly deserve such treatment? I never did anything but help all humans overcome oppression against the beast, now I'm the one paying, but why?

Shoji's eyes dart around the cold, damp cell chamber, the irony of his situation sinking in. This very place—a prison he had constructed to hold criminals—now served as his own cage.

Cassin

The name lingered in his mind, consuming his thoughts. 

As he leans back in the solitary iron enclosure, the faint crunch of remnants of straw beneath him serves as the only sound. A sliver of moonlight filters through the narrow, barred window, casting pale, fractured patterns on the stone walls—a haunting reminder of its intended purpose.

How could he possibly be accused by his own people of treason, accused of conspiring with the past monster monarchs? "I didn't do it." He whispers, collapsing his head between his knees as tears stream down his face. "Why is this happening to me?" 

"Because your time of reigning over the human nation is over." A familiar voice trumpets over his tears and clouded mind, for a moment, bringing him solace. 

"Cassin..." He moves to the gates, clinging to them.

As the person emerges from the shadows, the sparkle in his amethyst eyes sends dread coursing throughout his body which it never does so it makes him rethink coming closer. "Did…Did they change their minds?" He questions, hoping that they found out it was all a mistake and that he didn't do what they proclaimed he did. 

"Shoji, Emperor, Sovereign, and founder of Varderra, the human nation, is hereby sentenced to death."

The proclamation echoes through the chamber, each word striking like a death knell. Shoji's eyes widen in disbelief, his breath catching in his throat. The air he manages to draw feels thin and insufficient, unable to fill his lungs.

The weight of the words settled heavily in his chest, almost like a physical blow. He had built Varderra from the ground up, every stone, every law, every triumph. And now, they dare sentence him to death?

He's sentencing me to death…me? 

"Yes, Shoji, you're going to die tomorrow," Cassin sneers, his voice dripping with mockery. "And, sadly for you, it wasn't even hard to accuse you."

He stoops down to Shoji's level, his pink hair appearing darker—almost crimson—in the dim light, the shadows of the night casting an ominous hue. His eyes, now as black as onyx, glimmer like the void itself, empty and unyielding, as if to consume any last shred of hope Shoji might cling to.

He's not human. But how could I miss that for so long? 

"It's…" He tries to say something but the words won't come out. 

"The no-name monarch, the nonexistent." His facial features flicker, distorting, which makes the seconds longer until it stops, pure darkness gazing at him without any emotions or features. 

Just darkness. 

"Humans trust too easily." He comes close to his ears and whispers. "After your death, taking over this little nation shall be easy. But I would say it would be boring" Before Shoji can utter anything, he is already gone, leaving no trace of his existence, but only with words that echo in the air. "You were a fun human if only you hadn't fallen for my little tricks." 

I...it was all planned. From the start, all of this was planned just to destroy my nation! The very thing I built! 

"Now." He grumbles his finger poking into his flesh as he grips onto the bars even tighter. "I'm going to die..."

The next day comes and like Cassin says, everything plays out the same, he is sentenced to death no matter how many times he tries to warn them, he's people scream out the dreaded words he had never thought they would ever mutter. 

"Death to the emperor."

And there is nothing he can do but listen to them, with his head down, too ashamed to face them, because he failed them, they won't last a day with that thing out there, the monarch he had no idea existed until now. 

He thought it was a simple myth. 'The entity that lingers in every timeline. The one with no face and able to take the appearance of anything. No name, since he takes the name of all.'

If only I had known...I would have done something. Stopped it—anything to prevent this... even if this outcome would have befallen me again.

He couldn't pass on his skills or help them, he was betrayed by his own right-hand man and his people who wouldn't hear him out after he heard them out countless times, all he does is cry, the tears like an unstoppable wave, until the final second when he's head is between two pieces of wood and a sword comes down on his neck. 

Shoji jolted awake, his chest heaving as he gasped for air, his heart pounding like a war drum. The acrid stench of gunpowder filled his lungs, burning his throat as dust and debris from the battlefield swirled around him. 

"Max!" A person runs up from the side of him, slides on the dust, and stops right next to him. Their body is cladded with the traditional army uniform as he lifts his mask, to look him in the eyes. "Are you ok?" He scans his body for injuries. 

"Yeah... Yeah." He shakes it off, glancing around. "Sorry, I just had a weird dream while I was passed out." He moves his hands behind his head, finding himself bleeding. 

Was that truly a dream? 

"Sleeping, during war!" He says disbelief washing over his features. 

"No." He mutters, as his friend Alex, moves behind him and pats his head clean using a worn-out cloth. "I tried to avoid a bullet after hearing something crackling, but lost my footing and ended up banging my head on a rock" He remembers parts of the events before the dream. 

"Oh I see, it seems that reconsents mission has turned into an all-out war for some reason." He says his voice light behind him, unlike his more which are more serious eyes looking down at him. "Do you remember everything before you passed out?" 

"No," Max mutters, his voice barely audible over the distant rumble of explosions and gunfire. "Only parts."

His gaze swept over the battlefield before him, now a wasteland consumed by smoke, craters left from the relentless bombardment, and the gleam of spent bullet shells scattered across the ground.

But it is the bodies—lifeless and broken—that grip his attention the most. They were strewn everywhere, twisted in unnatural positions, scratched and scarred by the brutality of war. Blood soaked the earth, mingling with the dust and grime. 

Even in that dream, that person had to fight for his life to survive and still end up dead. This world and that world are not so different, other than magic and monsters. It's just the fantasy aspect that changes it and the new lands and wonders, but they're both grim and dark, the only goal is survival. 

"What are you thinking about so deeply?" Alex questions him, curious to know as he comes back in front of him. "We should be more focused on the war right now." 

That's right.

We are to report back but if all of us are dead how can we? We are supposed to observe them from afar as they transport resources to their aircraft but somehow we ended up in this brawl, yet I have this feeling they knew we were coming. They were little to none of them transporting resources, but hiding in the bushes as if waiting for us.

But how could they know that?

"Max." He waves at him trying to get his attention, but he doesn't get it.

The only person I noticed acting weird was Alex.

In the dorms before we came, he said he needed to pee but ended up inside of the communication room, and gave me the typical response that he had gotten lost, yet I didn't pay any mind to it. 

Knowing well we have been staying in that same headquarters after signing up. 

"Max!" He repeats again but still nothing Max is deep in thought. 

Then…

It finally clicks as all of his memories come rushing back. 

As I was shooting, I suddenly felt someone approach from behind. I heard the crackling sound and barely managed to dodge in time. But as I lost consciousness, I caught a glimpse of him—Alex, the one who had been holding the gun.