“Dalton, you complain with a full mouth.”

Alexander’s voice cut through the silence, carrying a weight I had never heard before.

“You’re arrogant. Impulsive. Ignorant. And above all… a complete idiot.”

He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment as if gathering the strength to go on.

I… couldn’t argue.

My mouth opened, trying to form words, but nothing came out. Just air. As if my voice had been ripped away before it could even reach my lips.

Alexander’s gaze was locked onto mine. And for the first time, I saw the pain in his eyes.

“Do you know what it’s like to be born… to grow up… to meet people?”

His body trembled. “Do you know what it’s like to laugh, to have fun, to feel pain, to lose the ones you love…?”

Tears began to roll down his face, staining his pale cheeks.

“Do you know what it’s like to have dreams? To make plans for the future? To picture your life, your goals…” He pressed a hand against his chest as if trying to keep his heart from shattering.

“…Only to find out that your entire existence is a lie?”

My chest tightened. But I couldn’t respond.

Because… he was right.

Alexander was nothing more than the result of a mythical-level spell, a piece of magic cast to give me a new identity in this world.

His life… was an illusion.

His memories, his relationships, his past… everything had been fabricated.

To me, he was just a carefully constructed series of events designed to create the perfect cover. But to him…

…It was his entire existence.

My heart pounded against my ribs. My body was frozen, but my mind screamed, desperately trying to deny the truth.

But how could I deny what had always been right in front of me?

And then… something stirred in my mind.

A memory.

A question asked long ago.

"What is a soul?"

For a brief moment, it was as if we were no longer there. As if the darkness around us had been swallowed by something greater—an echo from the past.

I remembered Alexander asking that question to Leopold, shortly after his mother’s death.

And, in his usual eccentric and enigmatic way, Leopold had answered:

"I don’t know, little Alexander… Perhaps the soul is a tangle of memories, perhaps it’s what defines the essence of a person. Some say it’s the foundation of the spirit, others believe it’s something even deeper. But there is one truth I do know…"

He paused, his gaze distant, as if seeing beyond the visible world.

"No one knows where the soul comes from, and even less where it goes. No one knows if it can truly die… or if it merely gets lost in time."

His voice was soft, yet filled with a mysterious wisdom.

"But there is something simple about its existence: as long as there is someone who remembers those who have passed, their soul will never completely fade away."

And then, he had smiled. A smile carrying a meaning that I was only just beginning to understand.

"Because, in the end… what are we, if not the marks we leave on others?"

The echo of the memory vanished. The darkness returned.

I looked at Alexander.

"Alexander, you—"

"Don’t say anything." He cut me off, his voice hoarse, exhausted. "I can feel everything you feel… remember?"

My body tensed.

He knew.

He had always known.

"Dalton…" He let out a bitter laugh, running his hands through his hair. "Of all people, you proved me right."

He took a step forward. "From the very beginning, you denied me."

I froze.

"You claimed I had completely merged with you?"

He let out a dry, hollow chuckle. "A lie."

My chest tightened.

"You didn’t accept me. You just shoved me into the shadows of your consciousness. You rejected me. My personality. My existence."

"Dalton, you have no idea how terrifyingly lonely it is to have your entire understanding of life shattered. To be forced to mentally age in a matter of hours. To watch, helplessly, as someone who is supposed to be you—wearing your face, speaking to your family, living your life—carries on, all while knowing deep down that it isn’t you. Because you’re still there, trapped in the darkness of the subconscious, struggling desperately not to fade away completely."

His fists clenched, his eyes burning with something raw, something furious.

"You denied me the right to exist."

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

"To you, I was never anything more than a convenient disguise."

His voice wavered.

"But to me…"

His eyes met mine, and for the first time, I saw true resentment in them.

"To me, YOU are the source of my pain."

Silence fell between us—heavy, suffocating.

And then, he smiled.

Not a mocking smile. Not a playful one.

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But a smile laced with hatred… and something else. Something I couldn’t quite grasp.

"Funny, isn’t it?"

He tilted his head slightly.

"The one responsible for my existence…"

His voice dropped to a whisper.

“… is also the person I hate the most.”

Deep down, I knew.

In that moment, as the weight of the truth crashed down on me, I realized something I had never been willing to admit before.

Yes, I had made a mistake.

Maybe an unforgivable one.

Maybe one that could never be undone.

But… that didn’t mean I wouldn’t try.

I could blame Leopold for summoning me. I could blame Augustus for giving the orders. I could blame Oswald for assisting in the process.

But at the end of the day, the real culprit was me.

I was the one who chose to stay in this world.

I was the one who chose to ignore Alexander.

I was the one who pushed him into the shadows of my consciousness.

And now… I had to fix it.

I took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. My fists unclenched. My hands were tense, but I let them relax. My entire body loosened.

And then, I started walking.

Each step felt heavier than the last.

Each step felt like a declaration.

My eyes locked onto his.

Alexander watched me warily, shoulders rigid, as if bracing for another verbal attack. But he didn’t back away.

I took another step forward.

And then… I spoke.

“Alexander.”

He didn’t respond, just kept watching me.

“You say you can feel everything I feel.”

Another step.

"But I can feel you too."

Another step.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

"I know you hate me." My words were calm, but they carried the weight of truth. "I can feel it."

‘After all… I hate myself too’. I murmured in the depths of my mind.

His fists clenched, but he still didn’t move.

"But you…"

‘Just like me.’

"… You also want to be understood."

The tension in his face wavered.

"You want to be loved."

‘Who doesn’t?’ I thought to myself.

His hands trembled ever so slightly.

"You want proof that your life is real. That someone will look at you and say that you are truly YOU."

His eyes widened.

And then, I stopped—right in front of him.

The small distance between us felt like a vast chasm. A chasm I was about to cross.

"So here I am."

The silence between us was suffocating.

But I pressed on.

"Alexander, you exist."

His lips parted slightly.

"And I don’t say that just to say it."

The image of Leopold flashed through my mind. His words—always cryptic—finally made sense.

"A wise fool, but still a wise man, once said that we are nothing more than the marks we leave on others."

Alexander blinked. His body trembled slightly.

"And that same wise man also said that magic is capable of the impossible. It doesn’t create something from nothing—it merely reveals a new side of what already is."

Now, he was truly listening.

"Alexander, you left your mark on every person you've ever met."

My voice grew steadier.

"Not because you were created by magic. Not because someone forged your past. But because this is your life."

His eyes widened in shock, but he said nothing.

I continued.

"You exist in everyone’s memory—not as a lie, but because you lived. You were born. Your. NO. Our mother felt the pain of bringing you into this world, the warmth of your body, and true happiness when she looked at your face."

My chest tightened.

But I didn’t waver.

"Alexander, you are not my disguise."

My voice strengthened.

"And I am not your creator."

The distance between us vanished as I took the final step.

And then—I embraced him.

Alexander froze.

"We are me," I whispered.

His fists, once clenched, loosened slightly.

"Dalton Xavier… was our past life."

My voice was firm. Unshakable.

"Alexander Dracknum… is our life now."

His eyes shimmered, as if something inside him had finally broken free.

"Paula Xavier is our mother."

His body trembled in my arms.

"Freya Dracknum is also our mother."

He squeezed his eyes shut, silent sobs shaking his frame.

"Vicente Xavier is our father."

His fingers clenched tightly around my clothes, gripping as if to anchor himself.

"Just as Thomas Dracknum is also our father."

And then… Alexander cried.

Not out of anger.

Not out of frustration.

But because, for the first time…

He was seen.

I loosened my embrace and took hold of his shoulders, looking into his tearful, golden eyes—so young, yet carrying so much weight.

"Leopold was wrong…" I began, my voice calm but unwavering.

A shiver ran through me as his words echoed in my soul.

"We are not two souls that merged into one."

His grip on my clothes tightened, as if holding onto something real.

"In fact… we never truly fused at all."

My heart stopped for a moment.

And then, I spoke the truth.

"We are the same soul."

He lifted his face, his golden eyes shining with newfound clarity.

"But one that was forcibly split… and is now being made whole again."

My legs wavered.

But I didn’t let go.

"Names… are just words."

Alexander let out a short, melancholic laugh.

"Dalton… Alexander… Who cares?" My voice trembled slightly, but it carried an undeniable truth.

"What matters is the concept. The spirit. The essence. The soul."

"The body doesn’t mean a damn thing. At first glance, we may seem different."

I took a deep breath.

"But deep down, we are the same."

‘Yeah… just two fools, searching for recognition.’ I finished the thought in my mind.

He looked up at me, and this time—I saw acceptance in his eyes.

"Because, in the end, we came from the same womb… and we long for the same thing."

I closed my eyes for a moment, letting those words carve themselves into me.

"To be accepted…"

My chest trembled.

"To be loved…"

I heard a soft sigh, followed by a faint laugh—one filled with emotions that didn’t need to be spoken.

"By those who matter to us."

Alexander completed my words. And in that moment, everything made sense.

A warmth spread through my chest, like something that had always been missing had finally returned to where it belonged.

I couldn’t say how much time passed.

Seconds. Minutes. Maybe hours.

But for the first time in a long time—perhaps for the first time since I awoke in this world—

I felt whole.

As if all the misaligned pieces had finally clicked into place.

As if, at last, I was whole.

My heart beat strong. Steady.

My skin felt lighter, as though an invisible weight had been lifted.

And then, slowly, I opened my eyes.

Alexander was no longer there.

There were no longer two voices.

No longer another presence inside me.

But… he hadn’t disappeared. He never would.

Because he was me. And I was him.

I looked down at my hands. Small again.

But this time, I understood.

Something had changed.

And this time… it was forever.

I took a deep breath, feeling certainty in every beat of my heart.

Then, without hesitation, I whispered a truth I had always denied.

"I am Dalton Xavier." I stopped for a brief moment.

"And at the same time…" I rose my head looking in the place Alexander was

"I am also Alexander Dracknum."