"Oh, right. Let me break it down for you, dumbass," the boy said, floating closer, his tone sharp and biting.
"While we're stuck in your soul, watching, hoping you'll do something meaningful—anything to become stronger—what have you been doing?" He threw his hands up in mock disbelief. "Nothing. You've made no progress in strength. None in intelligence. Not even in knowledge. It's been more than a week, and you've done absolutely nothing."
Akshran opened his mouth to protest, but the boy cut him off, his voice rising.
"I thought you were supposed to be like that old man over there." He jabbed a thumb toward the previous Akshran. "But he? HE is so much better than you. If he were here, he would've taken over the school by now!"
"What do you mean?" Akshran snapped, his voice defensive. "I am him!"
"No," the previous Akshran interjected, his tone calm but firm. "Technically, you're not. You're the sum of both of us—a messy manifestation of two incomplete parts."
"So what?" Akshran's fists clenched at his sides. "Does that mean I'm worth nothing? Why are you two doing this? Shouldn't we be working together instead of tearing me down?"
The boy smirked and pointed at the older version of Akshran. "See? Told you. Not me."
The previous Akshran let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "If I were in your place, I wouldn't waste time arguing. I'd already be finding a solution." His pitch-black eyes locked onto Akshran, and his voice took on an edge of steel.
"Being Akshran isn't about being indifferent, pragmatic, or ruthless," he continued. "It's about accepting who you are and moving forward anyway. It's about not giving a damn what others think. You set a goal and pursue it with everything you've got. No hesitation. No excuses. No messy indecision."
He stepped closer, towering over Akshran like a shadow. "Being Akshran means doing whatever it takes to achieve a goal. No shortcuts, no distractions, no waiting for things to fall into place. That's what being us means."
The weight of the words hung in the air, pressing against Akshran like an unspoken challenge. He swallowed hard, his mind racing as he stared at the two figures before him—two versions of himself, both demanding that he rise to the occasion.
"And you?" The older Akshran's voice cut through the silence like a blade. "You're an indifferent, arrogant, childish piece of shit. That's not who I am."
His pitch-black eyes bore into Akshran with the weight of cold, brutal truth. "You smirk at every fleeting hint of victory, like the world owes you something. It's pathetic. I was attention-seeking once—when I was a kid. But I grew up. I evolved. Because I learned something crucial."
He leaned in, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "No one is coming to save you. Not your parents, not your friends, not your allies. Not here, not on Earth, or any other place you might dream up. It's just you. You're all that matters. Period."
Akshran's fists clenched, but he didn't speak.
"Oh, people love winners," the older Akshran continued, his voice cold and unrelenting. "But they don't love you. The moment you falter, the moment you show weakness, they'll move on. They'll find someone else to worship or tear down. You're a placeholder, nothing more."
He straightened, his presence almost suffocating. "So ask yourself this: who will stand for you when there's no one left? Who will catch you when you're the one falling?" His eyes narrowed. "No one. It's just you. It always has been. It always will be."
Akshran's breath hitched.
"The rules don't change: survive or get crushed. And right now? With that smug little grin of yours, you're teetering on the edge of the latter. Wake up. Evolve. Or step aside for someone who's ready to take what you clearly can't handle."
The room seemed to darken as the words hung in the air. Akshran stood motionless, his mind a storm of questions and doubts. His voice, when it finally came, was raw. "If I'm not you... if I'm not him... then who the hell am I?"
The older Akshran's lips curled into something between a sneer and a smirk. "You're an illusion, boy. A patchwork of memories, a product of my mind and his combined. That's all you are. Nothing more."
"You couldn't have been a little nicer?" the boy interjected, his voice light, though his expression was uneasy.
Akshran's gaze darted between the two figures, his mind grasping for meaning. "A fusion of memories?" he repeated, his voice trembling. "That's it? That's all I am?"
The older Akshran didn't flinch. "That's all. Those memories—his and mine—are the only reason you exist. Without them, there is no you."
Akshran stared at the two, his chest tightening as the weight of their words sank in. 'A fusion of memories. Nothing more.' The realization wasn't just unsettling—it was shattering.
The previous Akshran folded his arms, his gaze unyielding. "Yes. The person you think you are—the one you believe exists—has never been real. You are what you are, nothing more."
He leaned forward, his voice heavy with finality. "It's not who you are that holds you back. It's who you think you're not."
Akshran's mind spiraled as fragments of memories surfaced unbidden.
The class, ignoring him as if he were invisible.
Adolph Letzer's comment, his voice calm but cutting: "Nice stealth skills. I didn't even notice you."
Kevin's words, "You have never existed."
"You think I don't exist?" Akshran had muttered back at Kevin, but even then, the words had felt hollow, his voice lost in the void.
As the flashes subsided, Akshran felt the weight of the moment pressing down on him like a boulder. His breaths came shallow as he tried to piece it all together.
"So... I'm not who I think I am?" he said slowly, his voice almost trembling.
"Exactly," the previous Akshran confirmed. "You think you're me but with this kid's body and memories. But you're not. You're not me. You're not him."
"You're all of us," the boy interjected, his voice softer, yet brimming with certainty.
Akshran staggered, his head spinning. "This... this feels so—" He hesitated, searching for the right words. "So cinematic. Like something out of a movie."
"Buddy, you're in a fantasy world," the boy quipped, raising an eyebrow.
Akshran blinked, the realization hitting him like a slap. "...y-yeah," he muttered, barely audible, as the truth settled in his chest like an anchor.
"So, were you here just to explain all this to me?" Akshran asked, his tone skeptical, though his curiosity betrayed him.
"Partly," the boy said, floating a little closer. "But mostly, we're here to instruct you on how to gain power."
"That sounds like a cheat code," Akshran muttered, his lips curling into a half-smile.
"Don't get too comfortable," the previous Akshran cut in, his tone sharp. "We won't be around for long."
The shift in tone made Akshran straighten slightly. "Alright, then. What do I need to know?"
"Three main concepts govern a being," the previous Akshran began, his voice steady and deliberate. "The Soul, the Mind, and the Psyche. Each has its pathway: the Soul is connected to the heart, the Mind to the brain, and the Psyche to consciousness and unconsciousness. Remember this—it's critical."
Akshran nodded, the weight of the explanation settling over him.
"You," the previous Akshran continued, pointing directly at him, "are a fusion of our Soul and Mind. But your Psyche? That's entirely your own. You're not me. You're not him. You're something new, an entirely different being. But you still inherit our shared goal because you have our combined Minds."
"Here's where it gets important," the boy chimed in. "Because you lack a Psyche of your own, you gained something rare: the ability to absorb psyches."
Akshran's eyes narrowed. "The orbs... the ones I absorbed in class. And that crying guy... even Adolph Letzer."
"Exactly," the boy said, a glint of excitement in his voice. "Those weren't just random experiences. They were fragments of Psyches—pieces of consciousness and unconsciousness, small portions of a person's being."
Akshran's lips parted in surprise. "So... I can absorb people's Psyches?"
"Correct," the previous Akshran said. "And there's more. Because you have no true Being, you house your Illusion Resonance completely. Your very existence is an illusion. That makes you the perfect vessel for this power."
Akshran's brow furrowed. "How does my Resonance tie into all this?"
"Our Resonance," the previous Akshran corrected, "is Pure Illusion Resonance. The only one of its kind. You see, in magic, there are resonances like Fire, Flame, or Heat—all related but distinct. Then there are Pure Resonances: the first and most primal version of that power ever created. You have the strongest Illusion Resonance, perfectly suited for your ability to absorb Psyches. The fragments you take in can be stored and converted into magical energy."
"That's why I felt stronger every time I absorbed one," Akshran realized, his voice quiet but firm.
"Exactly," the boy said with a nod. "But there's a catch. The amount you absorb depends on luck—you can't train it to take in more. What you can train is your ability to activate the absorption at will. For that, you need to reach Stage 4: Advanced."
Akshran frowned. "How do you two know all this?"
The boy snorted. "Because we're part of you. Being fragments of your Being means we were given this knowledge by default."
The previous Akshran raised a hand, halting further questions. "Now, onto the second topic. Akshran, have you ever felt like your memories were... incomplete?"
"Uh... no?" Akshran said hesitantly.
"Idiot," the boy muttered, shaking his head. "Alright, then. Tell us what you do remember."
Akshran's expression tightened in thought. "I was a boy from Greenfield. I ran through the fields, laughed with friends, and was considered a prodigy. I achieved things faster than others. Eventually, I got selected for Frostborn Academy, barely making it into Class S."
The boy and the previous Akshran exchanged glances, something unspoken passing between them. The tension in the room thickened as they prepared to reveal more truths Akshran wasn't ready to face.
"Is that all?" the boy asked, his voice dripping with disbelief.
"Yeah," Akshran replied, shrugging.
"And you don't see anything wrong with that?" the boy pressed, leaning forward.
"No?" Akshran frowned, genuinely puzzled.
The boy sighed, exasperated. "Dude, do you seriously think sixteen years of my life—our life—would amount to just that? Running through fields, being a prodigy, and barely scraping into Class S? Have some basic common sense."
Akshran's eyes narrowed as the weight of the boy's words began to sink in. "Makes sense... but then where did the rest of the memories go?"
The boy crossed his arms, his expression grim. "I don't know. All I remember is seeing that Scarlet Red girl right before blacking out. And then... here I am."
"Scarlet Red," Akshran muttered, the name rolling off his tongue like a puzzle piece clicking into place. "So she's somehow tied to all of this?"
"Yeah," the boy confirmed, his form beginning to flicker. "But that's all I've got. The rest? That's on you."
"Wait, what's happening?" Akshran asked, his voice sharpening.
"Our time's up," the boy said, his voice fading.
"No, you can't leave now!" Akshran's voice rose, a rare edge of desperation slipping through his calm veneer. "I still have questions!"
"Deal with it, idiot," the boy retorted with a grin, his figure dissolving into light.
The previous Akshran lingered for a moment longer, his pitch-black eyes meeting Akshran's. "Remember, you don't need us anymore. The answers you're looking for? They've been in front of you the whole time. You just haven't seen them yet."
And with that, he too vanished, leaving Akshran alone in the quiet, chaotic dorm.
For a moment, he stood there, his breathing uneven, the silence pressing against him like a weight. Then it hit him—a realization so profound it cut through the noise in his mind like a blade.
His lips curled into a smirk, the confidence in his expression not forced, but real.
Because for the first time since waking in this world, Akshran understood. He wasn't tethered to the past lives of the boy or the previous Akshran. He wasn't a shadow or an incomplete fragment. He was all of them and none of them.
He was something entirely new.
And with that realization, something within him shifted. The uncertainty, the doubt—they began to fade.
He didn't just know who he was. He could feel it.
He Evolved.