The air inside Yuria's apartment was still, heavy with unspoken tension. Forreal sat rigid on the couch, her pristine white eyes trained on Yuria, who was pale but composed, her fingers tightly gripping the hem of her sweater. Forreal's heart raced, though she kept her exterior calm—her truth had been spoken, and now, all she could do was wait for Yuria's reaction.
The room was abruptly filled with a faint hum of displaced air as black magic coalesced into the familiar figure of Surreal, appearing near the doorway.
His silver hair glinted under the dim apartment lights, and his serene smile was as unwavering as ever. But his closed eyes immediately swept over the scene, catching the faint redness in Yuria's cheeks and the awkward tension in Forreal's posture. His head tilted slightly, and his smile froze.
"You told her, didn't you?" His tone was dangerously light.
Forreal barely had time to react before Surreal crossed the room in one fluid motion. His gloved hand darted forward, gripping the collar of her shirt and pulling her closer.
"Do enlighten me," Surreal said, his smile now sharp and intimidating, a dissonance of calm and menace. "What made you think it was a good idea to spill everything?"
Forreal blinked, not in fear but in mild annoyance. She grabbed his wrist, though not to push him away. "Because you're a coward," she said flatly.
The smile on Surreal's face twitched, cracking slightly as his composure faltered.
From the side, Yuria watched with a conflicted but surprisingly calm expression, her gaze darting between the two. Her ability to detect truth anchored her in this moment, allowing her to distinguish their heated argument from genuine animosity.
But things might get dangerous if someone didn't step in.
"Stop!" Yuria stopped, hoping that her words meant something in this event. "The two of you aren't kids, so talk it over like an adult instead of using threats to communicate."
Surreal sighed deeply, releasing Forreal's collar and stepping back. His expression returned to its usual serenity—albeit with a noticeable strain. "Fine. Let's talk."
Forreal adjusted her shirt with a small huff as the three of them sat down, the tension thick enough to choke on.
Surreal folded his hands, leaning slightly forward. "Why did you do it?" he asked, his tone almost conversational but laced with sharp edges. "Let's align our understanding here."
Forreal met his gaze—or the semblance of it, given his closed eyes. "Because you're running away," she said plainly.
Surreal's smile twitched again.
Yuria, sensing the shift, intervened gently. "Forreal, could you explain what you mean?"
Forreal glanced at Yuria, then back at Surreal. "Your attachment to her," she began, her voice measured, "Is so strong that you've convinced yourself it's a detriment. You think it'll weigh you down, make you falter in your plan. That's why you're so determined to… kill her as part of it."
Yuria's breath hitched, but she didn't interrupt.
She was attentive from the start, the purpose of why Forreal revealed the plan, and why it might be a better thing to do based on the information laid in front of her.
Forreal pressed on, her tone gaining intensity. "I once tried imaging myself to be in your position, trying to understand the possible nuances and circumstances that you carried in silence, leaking through your words and actions. And I finally understand one thing.
"This isn't just another reset. This is your last reset, isn't it? You're not planning to try again, or maybe the reset just doesn't exist anymore.
"Your way of thinking and behaviour surprisingly doesn't differ much from me, but you definitely have the experience and strength. Yet, the more I look, this whole plan of yours feels like anything but an experimental attempt to see if it works or not.
"You're simply taking the most drastic measures this time—because there's no room for failure."
Surreal leaned back slightly, crossing his arms as he listened. His serene mask didn't waver, but there was a tension in his posture, a faint twitch in his jaw that betrayed his discomfort.
He felt that Forreal hadn't done speaking, so he let her continue.
"You weren't even going to meet her in this timeline, were you?" Forreal's eyebrows narrowed. "You planned to avoid her entirely because you knew it'd hurt too much. But you couldn't resist. You missed her."
Yuria's hands trembled in her lap, her face pale as she absorbed the revelation.
"So… if that's true, then…" Her voice wavered, and she looked at Surreal with wide, searching eyes. "Am I… holding you back? Is my existence… a burden to you?"
Surreal sighed, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Forreal's analysis is… mostly correct," he admitted, his tone calm but tinged with weariness. "But she's missing a crucial factor."
Forreal raised an eyebrow. "Do enlighten me."
Surreal leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His voice was firm, yet his words carried a strange gentleness. "You think I'm doing this out of fear. That killing Yuria would somehow make it easier for me to carry out my plan, because I would no longer be chained by my emotion, or even burdened by someone that I need to protect at all cost, and in your eyes, a weakness." He shook his head. "You couldn't be more wrong."
Forreal's skepticism was evident, but she remained silent, allowing him to continue.
"My love for Yuria is not a weakness. It's not something I want to get rid of to make things easier. Quite the opposite." He turned to Yuria, his serene facade giving way to something more genuine. "Yuria, the Earth as it will be after my plan, is not a fitting place for someone like you.
"It will be hostile, dangerous, and deeply unkind… I want you to live in a world that deserves you, not one that would crush you under its weight."
Yuria stared at him, her ability to sense truth resonating with his words. She nodded slowly. "So… what does that mean?"
Surreal exhaled deeply. "It means that while I planned to kill you, it wasn't to erase you from my life. It was to preserve you." He leaned back, his gaze distant. "I can assume that you have heard that I'm a Psycheweave Engine now. Manipulating souls is… trivial for me.
"I planned to bring you back—when the time is right, when the world is ready to welcome someone like you with warmth and embrace. Until then, I'd carry your memory with me, as I always have, fighting on the frontline against the fate that was forced onto me."
Forreal coughed awkwardly, realizing she'd overlooked this possibility. "Right. Psycheweave Engine. Forgot about that…"
Yuria's expression softened, her hands loosening their tense grip as she let out a soft breath. Her keen senses told her that Surreal's words were free of deceit. The weight of his plan—the scale of it—settled into her understanding.
While she didn't like every aspect of it, she could sense the sincerity behind his intentions, a genuine desire to protect her and humanity in the only way he saw possible.
"I understand," she said quietly, her voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of thoughtfulness.
But even as she accepted his reasoning, something stirred within her. If this was truly the path he had chosen, if his plan was so monumental and demanding, there was something she had to do.
Something selfish but earnest.
"However…" Yuria began, her cheeks flushing faintly as her words trailed off. She looked away, collecting her thoughts and summoning the courage she needed. "There's… one thing I want you to do for me, in exchange for coming to my house out of nowhere, revealing the future, bombing me with information, and unnecessarily hurting your own sibling in front of me."
Surreal's closed eyes tilted slightly, his serene expression touched with curiosity. "What is it?" he asked, his voice soft but serious. "I promise I'll do it to the best of my abilities, if it will absolve me of the sins I committed to you."
Yuria's flush deepened as she stood abruptly, her movements quick but almost shy. Without another word, she walked toward her bedroom, disappearing behind the door.
Forreal, sitting on the couch, raised an eyebrow in confusion but said nothing, choosing instead to observe silently.
Moments later, Yuria emerged, holding a small box in her hands. Her cheeks were scarlet, her gaze flickering between the box and the floor as she made her way back to the living room.
Her hands trembled slightly as her tall stature knelt on one leg before Surreal, trying to showcase the box carefully to the person in front of her.
With a deep breath, she opened it to reveal a simple, minimalistic ring.
"I know this is sudden," Yuria began, her voice trembling but determined. "And this isn't exactly how I imagined this moment would go… But…" She took another breath, steeling herself as she finally looked up to meet his closed eyes. "Surreal… will you marry me?"
The room fell into stunned silence.
Forreal's jaw dropped, her expression frozen in a mixture of disbelief and shock. She opened her mouth to speak but found no words, her mind struggling to process the absurdity of the situation.
Surreal, for his part, was momentarily taken aback, his usual serene demeanor cracking as a faint blush dusted his cheeks. But he quickly composed himself, though his eyes softened with genuine warmth.
"This ring," Yuria continued, her words tumbling out in a rush, "Is definitely not much. It's the only thing I have right now that feels even remotely adequate for this. But… I didn't want to miss this chance.
"Surreal, even though we're technically strangers to one another in this timeline, I have already fallen for you. You're beautiful, kind, seemingly loyal, can cook good food, and honestly… you're like a dream come true. A once-in-a-lifetime kind of partner." She glanced away shyly, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "And I'd like to claim you for myself…"
Forreal, still in shock, tried to stammer out a response but ended up clapping a hand over her mouth to stop herself. Her gaze darted between Yuria and Surreal, her mind screaming, What is even happening right now?!
Surreal chuckled softly, his tone carrying an unexpected gentleness. "Yuria… you know my answer," he said, his voice steady yet touched with a faint tremor of emotion.
Slowly, he reached up and removed one of his gloves, revealing a hand scarred with intricate patterns of magical burns. The marks shimmered faintly in the dim light, a proof to the toll of his black magic.
Yuria didn't flinch or pull away at the sight. Instead, she reached forward with steady hands, taking his wounded one in hers. She carefully slid the ring onto his finger, her touch as light as a feather.
"There," she said softly, her lips curving into a shy but radiant smile. "Now you're mine."
Surreal stared at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he smiled—a rare, genuine smile that carried an unfamiliar warmth. "I suppose I am."
Forreal, watching the scene unfold, was utterly flabbergasted.
"This timeline just keeps getting weirder."