The car’s tires crunched through the gravel, the sound echoing in the stillness as they approached the old apartment complex. The engine sputtered to a stop, leaving the three of them standing there, taking in the sight of the building. It had seen better days, with cracked walls and broken windows. Vines crawled up the sides, making it clear that nature was slowly taking over. The air was damp, heavy with the smell of old wood and mildew.
Mike stepped out, feeling a strange mix of unease and familiarity. It had been a long time since he’d been here—his first life had ended in this place, but that felt distant, almost like it had happened to someone else. The memories were hazy, but something about being here was starting to bring them back.
“Home sweet home,” Mike muttered, his voice flat. This was where everything had changed. This was where his first life had ended, where he had died, and everything else had started—his second life in Caldera, where things had gone wrong in so many ways.
Riko looked around, sharp as always, picking up on the tension in the air. She could tell something was going on with Mike, but she didn’t push. She had expected this place to stir up emotions for him, but as she glanced at his tall form, she noticed the sadness that settled in his blue eyes, a weight that seemed to drag him down. Altheack, sensing the shift, reached out and grabbed his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze, offering her silent support.
“Looks like no one’s been here for a while,” Altheack said, breaking the silence. She glanced at the vines, the cracks, the signs of time passing. It was obvious that this place had been left to fall apart.
Mike nodded, but his mind was drifting. “I was around 21 when I died here... and Valicar was 18 when she died on Caldera,” he said, mostly to himself. The memories were trickling back, bit by bit. “But now I’m 25, and... it’s been 25 years since I died here. So that means I must’ve been reborn almost instantly after my death. I can’t figure out how that works. It’s like time just… didn’t move the way it should.”
Riko looked over at him. “Time doesn’t always work the same way between dimensions,” she said. “Zaltheral used to talk about how he could spend what felt like years away and come back to find only days had passed here.”
Mike thought about that. His second life, that time in Caldera, had returned to him in fragments, but one constant had always been there—Sophia. He had always been the strong one, the protector, his sole purpose driven by the need to keep her safe. It was this unyielding goal that had pushed him to do terrible things, things he wished he could forget. But now, back on Earth, it was like the world had been waiting for him to catch up. And in the back of his mind, he felt the absence of his sister, Sophia. She had always been there, even in Caldera, but now… he was alone.
He paused at the entrance, staring at the door that was barely hanging on its hinges. It creaked as he pushed it open, the sound echoing in the stillness. “Three lives,” he thought, the reality of it hitting him. His first life had ended here, in a mess that was still fuzzy in his memory. His second life had been something else entirely—dark, twisted, and filled with mistakes. And now, here he was in his third life, back on Earth, trying to make sense of it all, and missing the sister who had always been his anchor.
They stepped into the lobby, the place feeling strangely familiar yet distant. The walls, the floor, everything was covered in dust, untouched for who knows how long. As they headed up the stairs, more memories began to stir, pulling Mike back into a past he wasn’t sure he was ready to face.
Mike stood in the doorway, staring at the lobby he used to know. The memories were faint, like looking through a fog, but they were there. He took a step inside, feeling the dust shift under his feet. The place hadn’t changed much, just aged—like it had been waiting for him to come back.
Riko and Altheack followed him in, their footsteps echoing in the silence. The air was stale, heavy with the scent of old wood and something that felt like it had been locked away for too long. Mike scanned the room, trying to pull more from his mind, but it was just flashes—nothing solid.
“This place…,” Mike began, but the words trailed off. He couldn’t find the right way to describe what was going through his head. It was like he knew this place, but at the same time, it felt like he was seeing it for the first time.
They moved through the lobby, each step taking Mike deeper into a part of himself he hadn’t touched in years. The walls seemed to close in a bit as they headed toward the stairs, where everything felt even more familiar, more personal.
He gripped the railing, the cold metal grounding him as he tried to push through the haze in his mind. With every step up, he felt something loosen, like the memories were just out of reach, waiting for the right trigger.
As they climbed, he started to remember more—small details at first. The way the stairs creaked underfoot, the chipped paint on the walls. It was coming back, piece by piece. His second life might have clouded these memories, but they were still here, buried under everything that had come after.
They reached the landing, and Mike paused. This was it—the floor where his old apartment was, where his first life had ended. He could feel something stirring in him, a mix of dread and curiosity. The door to his old place was just down the hall, slightly ajar, like it had been waiting for him all this time.
Mike took a deep breath and started down the hallway, each step bringing the memories closer to the surface, clearer now than they had been in years.
They arrived at the apartment door, but Mike didn’t move to open it. Instead, he stopped just outside, his eyes locked on the floor a few feet away. The memories were coming back now, sharp and vivid, like someone had torn open a wound he hadn’t realized was still there.
“This is where it happened,” Mike said quietly, more to himself than to the others. His voice was low, heavy with the weight of realization.
He stepped forward, the corridor suddenly feeling smaller, more oppressive. It was as if the air itself carried the weight of that day—the echoes of violence and pain. Mike could almost hear it—the chaos, the screams, the gunfire. Flashes of memory hit him hard: the sight of his sister’s bloodied face, the way she had gasped for breath, the way the world had tilted as he fell to the floor.
He knelt down, his hand brushing over the splintered wood where the dark stain still lingered. The cracks in the floorboards seemed to pulse under his touch, as if the memory of that brutal moment was alive beneath his fingers. This was where he had caved in the man's head—the one who had shot him and his sister. The wood was splintered, jagged from the force of his blow, and the stain had soaked deep into the grain, a permanent mark of the violence that had erupted in those final moments. The dark blotch seemed to almost shimmer in the dim light, a grim reminder of the life he had ended in his desperate attempt to protect Sophia.
“This is where everything started to change,” he murmured, feeling the rush of anger and pain from that day surge through him like a tide. “All these new emotions, the rage, the sorrow… they started here.”
He moved his hand slightly to the left, hovering over another stain—larger, darker, the blood of two lives spilled together. “And here,” he continued, his voice tightening, “this is where I died… in her arms. The blood was everywhere, hers and mine, mixing together as everything faded. Seeing it now, it’s like I’m back in Caldera too, reliving that moment when I died there, surrounded by the wreckage I caused.”
The memories of his second life on Caldera were just as vivid, just as bloody. He remembered the fire, the destruction, the billions of lives lost as he wielded the Shadow Orb with the corrupt power of Anna Sha whispering in his ear. He had been more than just aggressive—he had been consumed by power, driven by anger and a thirst for control. That life had ended in violence, too—his sister, Sophia, had seen to that. She had destroyed the anchor that kept him tethered to the world, killing him to stop him from destroying Caldera after Altheack’s death at the hands of The Pillar of the North.
“Back then, in my first life, I was already more dominant,” Mike said, his voice rough. “And it only grew worse in Caldera, corrupted by power, by Anna Sha’s influence. But after I died here, and then again in Caldera, something changed. Those lives, they didn’t just fade away—they’re still with me, still shaping me. I can feel it… this anger, this aggression, this darkness. It’s all from those lives, seeping into this one.”
He stood up slowly, the weight of the memories pressing down on him, making it hard to breathe. “And there’s more,” he added, his voice darkening with a hint of fear. “I can feel her necromancy here too, Sophia’s magic. It’s like it’s stuck to me, woven into my soul because of all the time we spent in the same body. It’s making me different—more intense, more powerful—but also more conflicted. I miss her. I miss the way we were connected. That lingering magic… it’s like it’s feeding into everything, twisting my mana, my soul, making it leak into this life and change who I am.”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Mike’s current life had been peaceful, almost idyllic in comparison. He had been lucky—his parents were kind, raising him as a good soul after he lost his memories. But even then, there had always been dreams, nightmares that hinted at the darkness buried deep inside him. And now, with his memories returning, his true self—the one forged in blood and power—was coming back too. And it terrified him.
As these thoughts swirled, a chilling realization hit him: his sister, sweet and innocent as she was now, had once been something far darker. Sophia, in her past life, had been Solaria—a genocidal maniac, much like he had become at the end of his last life. Solaria, who had founded the original Death Tooth cult in Caldera, had been a necromancer of unrivaled power. Even though she had tried to fight it, tried to keep them both sane in that twisted world, he had been the one to lose himself. And now, with everything coming back, he feared he might repeat those same mistakes.
But there was more. The Death Tooth cult that Riko was a part of—the one Zaltheral had led—was just a different branch of the original cult Solaria had started in Caldera. After Solaria had died and was sent to Earth, becoming Sophia in a new life, Zaltheral had taken over the cult. He had tried to fill the void left by Solaria, seeing her as a godlike figure, just as the cult on Earth saw him as "The Great One." But in reality, Zaltheral had been nothing more than a lackey, a pawn in a much larger game.
Mike feared that he was standing on the brink of becoming just like his sister had been in her darkest days, despite all her efforts to save them both. He hoped—prayed—that he wouldn’t fall as deeply as he had before.
Mike’s thoughts darkened as he realized just how deeply entwined their fates were. His sister, who had tried so hard to be different from her past self, was still haunted by the actions of Solaria. And now, as Mike felt himself slipping back into his old ways, he understood that the past was not something they could escape—it was something they had to confront, head-on.
“This Death Tooth cult… it’s more than just a fucked-up group of necromancers pretending to save the world,” Mike muttered, almost to himself, his voice heavy with the weight of realization. “It’s a branch of the original cult that the dragon Solaria—my sister in her past life—started on Caldera. After she died, Zaltheral took over, trying to keep it alive. But he was just a pawn, just like… the poor bastard who shot me.” Mike waved at the bloodstains on the floor, the memory of that day still fresh and raw.
Riko, who had been quietly listening, suddenly stiffened at Mike's words. Her gaze fell to the floor where something caught her eye—a small, tarnished ring wedged in a corner of the corridor, tucked under a loose floorboard. She knelt down, her fingers trembling as she picked it up. Recognition flashed in her eyes, followed by a wave of emotion she couldn’t contain.
Mike continued, unaware of her discovery, his voice heavy with regret. “Zaltheral saw Solaria the way the cult sees him—as some kind of savior. But the truth is, he was just a pawn in her game. He came here for my sister’s soul, but when Sophia and I died in this corridor, she instinctively merged our souls, dragging me with her to Caldera. She tried to be different in this life, but the past… it doesn’t let go so easily.”
Riko slowly stood, clutching the ring tightly in her hand. “Mike…” she began, her voice trembling with a mix of grief and anger. “This was my father’s ring.”
Mike turned to her, confusion flickering across his face. But as he followed her gaze to the spot where he had killed the man, his eyes widened as the realization hit him. “Your father…?” His voice faltered, the weight of understanding crashing down on him like a lead blanket. “Riko, I—”
She cut him off, her eyes blazing with a mixture of pain and anger. “He was the one Zaltheral used… the one who killed you and your sister.” Her voice cracked, raw with emotion. “And you… you killed him.”
Mike’s breath hitched in his throat. “Riko, I didn’t have a choice… I didn’t know it was your father.”
Altheack stepped between them, sensing the tension thickening in the air but struggling to find the right words.
Riko’s grip on the ring tightened, her knuckles white. “You crushed his fucking head after he shot you. I hated you for it, even if what you are say about Zaltheral is true. But now… now you’re telling me that it was all because Zaltheral was trying to bring back Solaria? Trying to recreate the power she had?”
Mike stared at her, a storm of guilt and rage from his past life swirling in his chest. “Riko, I’m sorry. I was dying… I acted on instinct. But if it happened again, if he did to me and my sister what he did that day, I’d do it all over again. I failed miserably, but I’d kill him a thousand times to protect her. It’s the cult that started all this shit by following Zaltheral.”
Riko’s anger didn’t waver; it hardened. Her expression was tight, her eyes narrowed. “I don’t know if I can believe what you say about Zaltheral, but you still killed him while he wore my dad like a puppet.”
“A puppet!” Mike’s voice rose with outrage. “The way the cult talks about the ‘Great One,’ any of you would’ve volunteered for that role, right? Unless you can finally see the lies. But that means admitting it wasn’t my fault we were dealt these shitty hands.”
Altheack, sensing the rising tension, stepped in, her voice calm but edged with concern. “Mike, Riko, these happened in past lives. Surely you can both find some forgiveness in your hearts.”
Riko’s gaze snapped to Altheack, bitterness seeping into her words. “Forgiveness? How the hell am I supposed to forgive that? My father was used like a tool, twisted by Zaltheral into something unrecognizable, and then killed by you, Mike. And you expect me to just let that go?”
Mike’s hand drifted toward Blue Dusk, his prototype sword, as the air grew thicker with tension. His voice was low, laced with regret but firm. “Riko, I know it hurts. But I didn’t have a choice. He was going to kill us both, and I acted to protect my sister. You can hate me for that, but Zaltheral was the one who set it all in motion. The cult you follow sent your father to my fucking doorstep, and then he shot me.”
Riko’s fists clenched, a faint, eerie glow building in her palm as she gathered souls, ready to cast a spell if needed. “You say that like it makes it any easier. Like it makes it any less fucking painful. My father died for a lie, and you were the one who killed him. I can’t just… forgive that.”
Altheack stepped between them, her eyes narrowing as she prepared to back Mike if things escalated. “Riko, I get it—you’re angry. You want someone to blame, and right now, that’s Mike. But fighting each other won’t bring your father back.”
Riko sneered, her voice dripping with bitterness. “You don’t know anything about my pain, Altheack. Your parent wasn’t used as some puppet and then killed by someone claiming it was for the greater good.”
Altheack’s expression darkened, her voice firm. “You think I don’t know pain? My mother was murdered right in front of me, killed by so-called allies who thought they were doing the right thing. And then, soon after, my father was killed by the empire—the same empire that destroyed everything we knew. I had to forgive the people involved, not because I wanted to, but because there were bigger things at stake.”
Mike cringed at the mention of the empire, a pang of guilt stabbing through him. He knew all too well that it was likely his and Sophia’s magic that had caused Altheack’s father’s death in the aftermath of the nuke and when Sophia had shattered the earth. The thought twisted in his gut, making him feel like he was the bad person he feared he was. But seeing Altheack stand there, strong and loyal, made his heart flutter. He loved her all the more for her forgiveness, for her unwavering loyalty despite everything.
Riko scoffed, her eyes blazing. “So what? You just let it go? Just like that?”
Altheack shook her head, her voice growing more intense. “No, I didn’t just let it go. I put my feelings aside because I knew there was more at stake. I helped Valicar—helped save her—despite everything. I was captured, tortured, and lost an eye, but I didn’t let that stop me. Mike and Sophia saved me, and I still love them for it. This isn’t just about us, Riko. It’s about stopping the demons, about saving Earth—like we tried to save Caldera, but this time, we have to do it without dying.”
Riko’s anger wavered for a moment before hardening again. “And what if I don’t? What if I just walk away and leave you to deal with the cult and the demons on your own? Or worse, what if I turn on you right now and kill you both? Maybe that’s what I should do.”
Mike’s grip on Bluedusk tightened, the cold metal a steadying presence. “You could try. But what would that accomplish? More death? More pain? We’re standing on the edge of something much bigger, Riko. And I don’t want to fight you, but I will if I have to.”
The tension was thick, almost suffocating. Riko’s eyes blazed with anger, the glow in her hands intensifying as she prepared to unleash her magic. The air crackled with the energy of impending conflict.
Then, Mike spoke again, his voice softer, more pleading. “Riko… if there’s any chance of bringing your father back, we have to work together. I know it sacrifices the soul when cast by Zaltheral... but he had someone even more knowledgeable about necromancy. If we can find a way to reach Sophia, there’s a chance she could retrieve his soul. If anyone can do it, it’s her. She’s the most powerful necromancer who’s ever lived. But we can’t do it alone.”
Riko hesitated, the glow in her hands dimming slightly as the weight of his words sank in. “You… you think it’s possible? That she could actually bring him back?”
“If there’s a way, she’ll find it,” Mike replied, his conviction clear. “We’ll find her, Riko. We’ll make things right. But we need to stop the demons first, and that means we need you—not the cult, but you. Someone I’ve shared a drink with.” He offered a small, strained smile, his third life’s feelings surfacing with a hint of willpower. Mike was tired of the killing.
Riko’s breath was shaky as she looked between Mike and Altheack, the anger still simmering but mingling with something else—hope. Her hand slowly relaxed, the souls she had gathered dissipating into the air. “If you’re lying to me, Mike… if you’re just using me like Zaltheral did… I swear, I’ll make you regret it.”
Mike nodded, his expression softening as the tension began to ebb. “I’m not lying, Riko. I want to make this right. We’ve all been through hell, but we don’t have to let it define us. We can be better. We have to be better.”
Altheack, still wary but relieved, placed a gentle hand on Riko’s shoulder. “We can do this together. We’ve been thrown into this mess by forces beyond our control, but we can choose how we respond. We can choose to fight for something better.”
Riko’s resolve hardened into something more determined. “Alright… I’ll help you. But only because I want to see my father again. And if it means going along with your plot against Death Tooth for now, so be it. But if it comes down to it and you’re lying to me, I’ll join them in fighting you, even if the whole thing was a lie. I will have my revenge if that’s what it takes.” Riko’s voice was filled with both growing hatred for the cult she and her family had devoted their lives to and the reluctant hope that Mike was telling the truth.
The three of them stood there, the tension slowly dissipating, but the understanding that they were now bound by a fragile alliance, forged in the crucible of pain and hope. They might have been enemies in another life, but now they stood on the brink of something different. The path ahead was uncertain and dangerous, but they would face it together, driven by a common purpose—to save Earth from the demons and to find a way back to Caldera, and perhaps, to find redemption along the way.