Kael stood rigid at the threshold of the shattered doorway.
Cold air pierced his skin, carrying the sharp stench of ozone mixed with iron—biting, unmistakable, like fresh blood. His robe, damp with a thin layer of sweat, trembled with the rhythm of his own breathing.
His teeth clenched, grinding hard as he restrained an anger with nowhere to go.
"Why…!? What reason was there!?" His voice broke—more a hiss caught in his throat than a question that truly expected an answer.
As if the truth had just slipped from his grasp, Kael could only stand there, his chest rising and falling, his lungs rejecting air tainted with guilt.
Slowly, he lifted his face. Cold sweat beaded along his temples despite the bone-deep chill of the room.
His gaze quivered as it fell upon the scattered remains strewn across the luminous glass floor: Marrec's head lying expressionless, Elara's body split cleanly like a fractured statue, Dren's form slumped to the side—his eyes still frozen with an anger that never found release.
And yet, none of it felt real.
To Kael's eyes, they were no more than holographic afterimages—stripped of names, stripped of history; proof of existence reduced to silent trauma. Records he had never known, memories he had never held.
His jaw tightened further as disappointment pressed down on his chest. His legs felt heavy, rooted to the floor—unable to move forward, unable to retreat.
"She saved me… by killing them?" His voice wavered, on the verge of collapse. "Why… why would you do something so cruel?"
His hand curled into a fist. "I… can't know it. Where is that truth you spoke of?" He bowed his head deeper, the words slipping out softly, shattering into the cold air that hung like fog.
That faint haze still lingered in the hall—like the lingering breath of a passing ghost, slowly coiling like a dream left unfinished. The final words of the woman in black echoed in his ears, louder than any siren:
There will be many people who will always be waiting for you…
Kael repeated it quietly, almost like a mantra. "There will be many people who will always be waiting for you…"
Then he looked up, his face taut. "You look real… but my soul, my mind—even my heart—can't remember you," he whispered, barely aware of his own voice.
Kael drew a long breath, but his lungs seemed to refuse it. "It's difficult… impossible to unravel. But…" He lifted his gaze, his voice cracking as he stared at the capsule standing at the center of the hall. "There is no such thing as a final road in my dictionary. I will search everything—for the truth this world is trying to hide from me."
His boot stepped into a puddle of coolant mixed with blood; the sticky sound made his chest tighten further. He passed one of the bodies, but quickly turned his face away when his eyes caught a vacant stare—one that seemed to accuse him with questions he could never answer.
"I don't know what happened here before… their conversations, who they were…" he hissed, his voice trembling as he forced his spirit not to seize up. "But at least… I know this is the place."
He scanned the surroundings: metal walls reflecting pale blue light, glowing pipes running through them like mechanical veins. "The place where I was kept… the laboratory I once wanted to destroy. A Tyrak facility. She gave me a chance—by using their tainted power."
Kael's gaze locked onto the blue capsule at the center of the hall. White vapor still drifted from it; the transparent panel was sealed tight. Within the cold fluid, he saw the body of a man—his own body—lying motionless. The face was familiar, yet unsettling; like looking into a reflection that didn't entirely belong to him.
"Ironic," he muttered darkly. "It's always like this. Turning me into a toy they can manipulate at will."
He took another deep breath, his voice sinking into a near-whisper. "Gratitude or not—it doesn't matter anymore. Why...? Because the truth is still hidden inside."
Kael stepped closer. One hand pressed against the cold glass of the capsule, his fingers trembling as if touching his own soul. His eyes searched that unmoving face for answers.
"If this really is me from the past… then now is the time for you to return." His voice hardened, though it still wavered. "Rise with me. Toward a new world. Dive into chaos, darkness—even impossibility—to seek truth… and victory."
Silence answered him.
White vapor clung to the glass, blurring the figure inside until it looked like it was slowly dissolving into a dream.
Kael closed his eyes for a moment, his teeth clenched tight. His hand pressed harder against the capsule, as if trying to draw something out from within—his past self.
"Every memory, every pain, every rage, every loss… come back to me." His lips trembled as his eyes flew open. "Everything inside you—live again with me. Then I declare it: this reality stands. And it ends here."
And at that moment, white light tinged with gold began to seep from the body of Kael lying within the capsule. It moved slowly, passing through the glass without breaking it, flowing into the back of Kael's hand pressed against the surface—like a current seeking its way home.
Yet at the same time, he was standing there, eyes closed, utterly unaware.
Dark… calm… but not empty.
His feet rested upon a glossy black surface, like shallow water reflecting his own silhouette.
Above him was no ordinary sky. Purple and crimson mist rolled endlessly, blending together like an eternal painting beyond words. Within that haze, two vast universes took shape—side by side, yet holding their distance.
The left side glowed in pale white, like a sacred, majestic moon. The right burned deep crimson, heavy with wrath and destruction.
Yes—this was Limbus Reveria. The place where he had first found fragments of memory about his father.
Once, this space had been filled with rows of doors. Each door a mirror, each mirror a memory. But now… all the doors were gone. All that remained was the black pool beneath his feet and the cosmic sky stretching overhead.
Because from the very beginning, he had never walked here with his body—only with a soul forced inside, dragged back to remember the fractures of his past.
There, Kael's body stood stiff, eyes tightly shut, as though lost in a deep sleep. No ripples, no movement. Only his unmoving figure—like a statue abandoned in this boundless space.
But not far in front of him, another figure stood casually upon the same watery surface.
Kael's shadow—eyes glowing with a faint, sharp violet light, lips curved into a cynical smirk. His fingers tapped idly against his elbow, producing a hollow rhythm that made the silence ache even more.
"Hhh… seventy days. How much longer do you plan to sleep and ignore me like this, huh?" His voice was low and heavy, steeped in mockery. "Busy drowning in memories—memories you're not even sure you believe yourself? You're truly pathetic, Kael."
He straightened, his silhouette rippling faintly across the black pool beneath him. His gaze pierced into Kael's unmoving form.
"You're always chasing the truth, as if this world would bend just because of your resolve. But reality?" He scoffed, stepping closer—his footsteps sending out shallow ripples, as though the water itself refused to touch him. "You're nothing but a puppet. A puppet that never once got to choose its own path."
A short, bitter chuckle escaped the shadow. "I'm sick of waiting. This trial—this pilgrimage of sin—you don't even realize it exists because of me. All this time, you've only been walking along the strings I set."
He stopped exactly three meters in front of Kael's closed eyes. His gaze narrowed, his face drawing closer, brimming with contempt.
"Did you think you'd come back standing tall? Wise? Complete?" His smile twisted. "No, Kael. You'll return broken. And this time… I'll take control of everything."
The shadow's hand clenched. A pulse of chaos surged outward, crushing the once-silent air of Limbus Reveria.
His lips curled again—no longer a smile, but a snarl filled with malicious intent.
"Ah, enough. I hate waiting. If you won't come back—then I'll decide how this game ends."
Without hesitation, he swung his fist toward Kael's still-closed face.
"Your existence… ends here."
The blow was heavy, condensed, overflowing with hatred—
BOOM!!
The impact shook the empty space. Black water erupted in all directions, splashing like endless ink. Above them, the cosmic sky trembled; the two universes—white and red—shuddered together, as though bearing witness to a collision of fate.
But it wasn't an empty body that was sent flying.
The shadow froze, eyes widening in disbelief.
"Huhh—!?"
A hand had stopped his punch.
Strong. Steady. As if forged from will that had been tempered countless times. Fingers clenched tight, crushing the force that should have shattered his opponent's face.
Slowly, Kael opened his eyes.
A narrow red gleam flared within his gaze—sharp, aware, burning with embers. His lips curved—not in tension, but into a feral grin. A grin that said it clearly: 'I knew you'd strike.'
The air vibrated violently. Ripples rebounded in every direction, sweeping across the black pool until it shimmered like a shattered mirror.
Kael exhaled deeply, his voice low yet resolute. "I'm back."
They weren't just words.
In that instant, everything returned to him—every fragment of memory, every lost combat instinct, every shard of his true nature buried beneath cryostasis.
What had once been missing—memories of family, wounds that shaped him, instincts that kept him alive, destruction that hardened his resolve—all of it locked back into place.
Myra had warned him: cryostasis would strip everything away—memories, emotions, even identity itself. Until now, Kael had merely existed without existing—a form that walked without a complete shadow. But that shackle had broken.
Cryostasis was over.
The one standing before the shadow now was no longer a puppet who had forgotten himself.
It was Kael—whole. Present.
That cold gaze pierced straight through the Shadow Kael, the sharp grin still carved across his face. The aura emanating from him was no longer blurred or uncertain—it was dense, real, undeniable.
And in the fractured silence, one truth became clear: the shadow was no longer facing a fragile shell stripped of memory.
He was facing the real Kael.
Yet despite Kael's piercing stare, the shadow did not falter. There was no surprise, no hesitation. On the contrary—his violet eyes widened, the chaos within them flaring brighter, igniting a feral glare that crushed the air around them.
The atmosphere of Limbus Reveria grew suddenly heavy. The black pool churned wildly without wind, bending as if in submission to the dark aura pouring from the shadow's body.
He leaned forward slightly, his voice cold, sharp, brimming with absolute confidence.
"Welcome back. Are you ready to lose?"
Kael still held his fist in place. His grin widened—a crooked, cocky smile, brimming with the confidence that had finally returned to him.
He met the gaze without fear, almost as if mocking the threat before him.
"Yes," he replied lightly, his voice low yet piercing. His lips curled further into a sneer. "I'm ready… to defeat you. And claim victory."
Kael's aura erupted outward—nothing like before. Not a hollow, fragile presence, but a living pressure filled with conviction, forcing the silent space of Reveria to tremble once more.
For the first time, their gazes locked fully—violet chaos against cold, razor-edged crimson. And to both of them, it was clear:
This battle was no longer a mere trial.
It was the decision of who truly had the right to be the Kael who exists.
The duel of honor had finally begun.
***