I sit on the throne, the weight of the crown heavy upon my head. My fingers, trembling slightly, trace the cool metal, the smooth surface a sharp contrast to the storm of thoughts racing in my mind. To my left stands a figure cloaked in shadows, its glowing red eyes fixed upon me. There is something unsettling about the way it stands—still and unwavering, like a sentinel who has seen centuries pass in silence. To my right, a woman stands, poised and graceful. Her skin is as white as snow, a stark contrast to her long, flowing black hair, which pools at her feet like liquid midnight. Her golden eyes gleam with a warmth that is almost blinding, yet there's an undeniable coldness in her expression, as if she is holding something back, something deeper.
I try to make sense of the scene around me, my mind struggling to grasp the full reality of this moment. The room I find myself in is pure white, an endless expanse of gleaming walls that seem to stretch infinitely, as though they exist outside the realm of time. I recognize this place—this room, this sensation. I've been here before, or at least, I've tried to reach it. For as long as I can remember, I've been searching for this. But now that I'm here, surrounded by these figures, the questions overwhelm me.
Who are these people?
I'm frozen in place, not out of fear, but confusion. I feel no immediate threat from the two figures beside me. Their presence doesn't evoke the usual sense of danger, but rather, a strange familiarity. Something stirs in my chest, as if I've known them for a long time. I glance around, trying to make sense of it, but all that meets me is the sterile white room, stretching endlessly. A vague sense of purpose lingers, like I'm supposed to do something, but what? I stare at them, waiting for an answer, but none comes. They remain silent, unmoving.
Then, the woman speaks, breaking the silence like a whisper of wind across a frozen lake.
"Master," she says, her voice smooth and melodic, yet tinged with reverence. "Welcome home."
Her words hang in the air, the meaning lost on me for a moment. Home? But I… I don't recognize this place. This isn't my home. And yet, a strange warmth spreads through me, as if I should be here. Her golden eyes drop to the floor, and she kneels beside the shadowy figure without hesitation.
The figure on my left shifts slightly, its form cloaked in darkness, only its glowing red eyes visible, gleaming with an intensity that sends a shiver through my spine. It kneels as well, its head lowering in unison with the woman. They both wait there, kneeling before me. There is a moment of silence, the weight of their actions pressing down on me.
Are they waiting for something? My hand twitches slightly, and a strange thought crosses my mind. In stories, kings always gesture to signal their subjects, don't they? Tentatively, I raise my hand, unsure of what to expect. To my surprise, it works. The moment my fingers rise, both figures lift their heads, their eyes meeting mine. The sense of power that surges through me is unexpected, almost overwhelming. I should be confused, frightened even, but instead, I feel… centered, as though I belong here.
"My lord," the shadowy figure says, its voice deep and resonant, familiar in an unsettling way. It speaks with a reverence that only deepens my confusion. "We have awaited your arrival since your birth."
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I freeze, my mind racing. What does it mean? Why does it sound like I've been expected? And… since my birth? I swallow hard, panic bubbling up within me. Is this some sort of dream? Am I still unconscious somewhere?
"No, you are not, Master," the woman's voice interrupts my spiraling thoughts. Her words catch me off guard. She continues, "You are not in a berserk state. You are here, and we are here with you."
I blink, processing what she's said. "Berserk state?" I repeat aloud, my voice shaking slightly. "What do you mean?"
She smiles gently, her golden eyes filled with an emotion I can't quite place. "You've been in that state before, Master. The rage, the power that courses through you. But right now, this is different. This is where you belong."
I don't fully understand what she's saying, but before I can ask more, the shadowy figure speaks again, its voice unwavering.
"You did not speak aloud," it says, addressing me directly. "But here, our thoughts are one. Whatever you think, we perceive."
The words hang in the air like a weight. The realization hits me hard. They can hear my thoughts? Every single thought? I feel a jolt of panic surge through me. The idea of my innermost thoughts being exposed, laid bare for them to hear, unsettles me.
I can't help but voice the question that lingers in the back of my mind. "Do you… know everything I've been thinking?"
The woman, Nalia, lowers her gaze slightly, her expression softening. "Yes, Master," she replies, her voice tinged with something I can't quite place. "And… frankly, some of your thoughts have hurt us."
Her words catch me off guard. Hurt them? The guilt that spikes through me is immediate and intense. I've been so focused on myself, on the confusion and fear swirling inside me, that I hadn't considered the impact of my thoughts on those around me. The thought of hurting them—these strange, enigmatic figures who seem to care for me—makes me feel small, vulnerable.
"I'm sorry," I say, the words soft, barely more than a whisper. I lower my gaze, embarrassed.
Nalia and Ego, the shadowy figure, remain silent for a moment. Then, with a slight motion, Nalia rises from her kneeling position and offers me a small smile. It's almost imperceptible, but it's there. Her eyes meet mine, and for the first time, I feel a sense of warmth from her—a flicker of understanding.
"We forgive you, Master," she says, her voice gentle but firm.
I nod, feeling a strange sense of peace wash over me. The guilt still lingers, but it's lessened now. They don't hold my thoughts against me. They forgive me. And somehow, that means more than I can put into words.
"What are your names?" I ask, my voice steady now, though the questions continue to flood my mind. This is all so much to take in.
Nalia's golden eyes flicker with surprise, and she exchanges a quick glance with Ego before speaking. "I am Nalia, Master," she says, her voice filled with grace. "And this is Ego," she adds, gesturing to the shadowy figure standing beside her.
Ego raises its head, its red eyes glowing brighter in the dim light of the white room. "I am Ego," it says, its voice rich with a deep, resonant power. It places a hand over its chest in a formal salute, its movements precise and deliberate.
I repeat their names softly, tasting them on my tongue. "Nalia and Ego." A smile tugs at my lips, something real and genuine. "It's nice to finally meet you both."
Nalia and Ego both nod, a small acknowledgment that fills me with a sense of relief. I didn't realize how much I needed this—to finally put names to the figures who have been in my mind all this time. The weight of the unknown that has clung to me for so long seems to dissipate in an instant.
"Do you mind if I ask you some questions about… all of this?" I ask, my voice laced with curiosity.
"Of course not, Master," Nalia replies immediately, her voice soft but firm. "We are here to serve you, to help you understand."
With that, they begin explaining everything.
The white room, they tell me, is part of a larger domain known as Eden, a realm that belongs to me. It is sustained by my mana, though I haven't yet learned to fully control it. My inability to access and explore this realm before was due to my lack of control over my mana, a flaw that has kept me from realizing my true potential.
I listen intently, processing the information as best as I can. Eden is vast, far larger than I can imagine, and it exists as a reflection of my own power, my own being. It is a domain of pure potential, a place where I can hone my abilities, develop my strength, and shape the world around me. The realization settles deep within me, and I feel a strange connection to this place, as though it's a part of me.
They also reveal the true nature of my unique skill, the one I've come to fear—Conqueror. It's not just a skill. It's a part of me, a force that allows me to enter a berserk state, drastically enhancing my strength and mana without any of the usual drawbacks. When I go berserk, I lose control, but the power I gain in that state is immense. Nalia and Ego are manifestations of this skill—Nalia represents my mana vision, the ability to see and manipulate mana, while Ego embodies my berserk state, the raw power that comes with it. Together, they are protectors, guiding me, helping me control the power I have feared for so long.
The knowledge is overwhelming, but somehow, it makes sense. These two figures—Nalia and Ego—have always been with me, and they always will be. They have been my protectors, my guardians, though I didn't know it until now.
As I process all of this, I feel a strange shift in the air. The room seems to shimmer, and for a moment, I'm not sure what's happening. My mind races, and I begin to feel like I'm being pulled in two directions at once.
Nalia's voice breaks through my thoughts.
"You can leave whenever you wish, Master," she says, her voice tinged with sadness. "You've only to will it."
I look at her, confusion and a touch of reluctance in my heart. "Leave? What do you mean?"
"The outside world awaits you, Master," she explains. "Eden is your domain, but you still have a place in the world beyond. You have responsibilities. You have a path to walk."
I hesitate, the weight of her words settling heavily on my shoulders. I don't want to leave this place, this sanctuary. But deep down, I know she's right. I have a world to face, a world that requires me to step up, to embrace the power within me.
I nod, my decision made.
"Thank you," I say, my voice soft but sincere. "Is there a way to communicate with you while I'm outside Eden?"
Nalia's face brightens, her golden eyes shining with a warmth that I haven't seen before. "Yes, Master. You can activate the Link setting just as you turned off One Mind. It will allow us to communicate whenever you need us."
With that, I enable the Link, my connection to them solidified. A part of me feels the pull of the outside world, a world that I must return to. But before I leave, I take one last look at the white room, at the two figures who have been my guides.
"Goodbye, for now," I whisper.
And just like that, the white room fades away, leaving me standing in the familiar world once more.
The moment the white room fades, I feel a strange sense of disorientation. The air around me shifts, becoming heavier, cooler—less pure than the space I've just left behind. I blink rapidly, as though emerging from a dream, and slowly, my surroundings begin to come into focus. The soft rustling of leaves, the scent of damp earth, and the cool touch of the night breeze—all of it grounds me back in the reality of the outside world.
I find myself lying in the grass, the treetops overhead swaying gently in the wind. Moonlight filters through the leaves, casting long, silver shadows on the ground. The forest around me is quiet, peaceful, but the serenity only deepens the dissonance I feel in my chest. How did I get here? Where am I? More importantly, why?
I try to sit up, but something stops me—a sensation on my chest, an arm draped across it. My heart skips a beat, and I freeze, the world around me suddenly shifting. The soft, honeyed scent of Frey fills my nostrils, and it hits me all at once. Her arm—it's her arm across my chest. I turn my head, slowly, unsure of what I'm about to see. And there she is, lying next to me—Frey, my companion, my friend. But there's something different, something jarring about the scene.
She's… naked?
Heat rushes to my face, an embarrassment so acute it nearly overwhelms me. What happened last night? The last clear memory I have is of the victory celebration, the laughter, the drinking, the revelry. I remember the warmth of it all, the way we celebrated our triumphs and our survival. But this… this is something else entirely.
My hand trembles as I lift her arm off of me, carefully, trying not to disturb her. But as I sit up, I notice that I, too, am naked. The realization crashes over me, and my heart races in my chest. What the hell happened? Did I drink too much? Did something… more happen?
Before I can even begin to process the situation, Frey stirs beside me. Her eyes flutter open, and for a moment, we simply stare at each other. The world feels suspended in that brief moment—unreal, impossible, as though time itself is holding its breath. Then, without a word, without explanation, she sits up abruptly, grabs her clothes, and begins to dress. The quiet swish of fabric fills the air as she moves quickly, deliberately.
"Frey…" I call after her, my voice hoarse, almost pleading. My mind is racing, desperate for some kind of answer, some clarity to this confusing situation. But she doesn't respond. Not a word. Not a glance. She finishes dressing, pulls herself together, and without a single look in my direction, walks away.