The whisper didn't fade.
It slithered inside him, curling around his bones, pressing against his thoughts like something that had always been there, waiting for the right moment to wake up.
Kieran clutched his head, his fingers digging into his scalp. His own breath sounded wrong. Too shallow, too distant, as if it was coming from someone else's mouth.
Because it was.
Something shifted inside him.
A flicker of movement, just beneath his skin—like something trying to climb out.
The black-winged angel watched in silence.
And then, it stepped back.
Not out of caution. Not out of fear.
But recognition.
Kieran's stomach twisted. "What's happening to me?"
The angel didn't answer.
Because it didn't need to.
Kieran felt it.
Something pulling apart. Like a seam in fabric, slowly unraveling, allowing something else to seep through.
And then—
A laugh.
Not out loud.
Inside him.
It wasn't his own.
It wasn't human.
And it wasn't alone.
Kieran's breath hitched as his reflection flickered in a jagged shard of stained glass.
And what he saw wasn't him.
It looked like him.
Same face. Same eyes.
But it was wearing him.
A second pair of lips stretched just beneath his own, too faint to be real, yet undeniably there. They moved when he moved. Smiled when he didn't.
And his eyes—
There were too many.
For just a moment, they layered over each other, pupils shifting, stacking, flickering in and out of place like something trying to decide how many it needed.
Kieran stumbled backward, choking on his own breath.
"No, no, no—"
"You were never supposed to leave."
The whisper wasn't a whisper anymore.
It was inside his throat.
His own voice spoke the words without him.
Kieran clamped a hand over his mouth, his fingers trembling. But he could still feel it.
Something was underneath.
Something waiting.
He turned to the black-winged angel, his voice raw. "What the hell is happening to me?"
The angel's expression remained unreadable. But it did something then—something that made Kieran's blood turn to ice.
It lowered its gaze.
Like it was addressing something else.
Not him.
Not anymore.
The air around Kieran thinned.
Like the world itself was deciding whether or not to hold onto him.
And then, from somewhere deep within him, something spoke back.
"I remember now."
Kieran's fingers dug into his chest, into his own flesh—because for a split second, it wasn't his anymore. His skin moved on its own, shifting like liquid, his bones pressing against it like something underneath was trying to climb out.
The angel's voice was quiet.
"You need to fight it."
But Kieran couldn't move.
Because he wasn't the one in control anymore.
His body straightened.
His arms lowered.
And his mouth—
It smiled.
Not his own smile.
The other one.
The one he had seen in the broken glass.
The angel took a step forward. "Kieran—"
"He's not here anymore."
Kieran's voice was not his voice.
It was layered. Echoing.
Something else was inside.
Something that had always been there.
And now?
It was awake.