The area was fogged with eerie clouds, and the entire ground was one shallow pool of water. I couldn't feel anything—warmth, coldness, or anything else. I felt like a spirit wandering in another land.

A figure emerged through the dense fog. It wore a simple black cardigan over her shirt, matching the color of its crimson eyes. Its black hair was cut to shoulder length. Those two colors made up its entire outfit.

Whenever I gazed at the parasite, I couldn’t help but shiver the nerves off.

“You’ll die if you don’t use my aid. But you know that, don’t you?”

Pathetically, I looked down at my own reflection. I didn’t want to admit it, but I couldn’t do this alone.

The parasite grabbed my face, pulling it close to its own. Although it was faceless, it had eyes similar to mine.

When did it have eyes? If I recall correctly, wasn’t it faceless?

It groaned. “I can take control if you so desire.”

I had second thoughts. I knocked its hands away, then covered my face. “I-I can’t. I can’t have them see me like this. I don’t—”

It flicked the back of my hand. “Oi, how stupid can you possibly get? Do you care about your image that much? So much so that you are willing to die instead of spilling yourself?”

“I don’t know... between that and your trust. You lied to me. How can I possibly trust you?”

Doubts piled up in my mind faster than I could climb.

“I never lied. I didn’t stress the entire truth.”

“The more I give you control, the closer you get to fully taking my body—fully taking my life. You never told me that till it was almost too late!” I stomped on the water, sending it into the air.

“So you choose to die here rather than to die later?”

“Neither.”

My eyes stared at the water reflecting up on me. This is who I was.

I looked at the figure in front. This is who I could become.

People died because of my inability to save myself. They died because I played neutral. Doubting, focusing on the what–ifs instead of the current situation. If I did nothing, then their lives would have been meaningless sacrifices.

I was saved here on two separate occasions. I stubbornly rejected the parasite, caring for myself. The more it emerged, the closer it got to engulfing my soul. I didn’t know that till I used her more than I had wished.

So I couldn’t. I chose to do it alone. I decided to reject it.

But that rejection led to Ruby's death.

My inability to make quick decisions led to Marshall's death.

My mouth went dry. Determination alone didn’t cause fear to leave. I wanted to scream out of total dread.

There are benefits to the parasite taking control. It’s stronger, quicker, fiercer, and I felt no pain. Basically, I turned into a weapon. But every upside comes with a downside.

I wouldn't have control of myself.

At some point, it could completely take over, living my life while I take its place. However, I don’t turn into a parasite. I could only watch the parasite ruin my life, unable to do anything about it. It would feel like being trapped in a forever-going lucid dream.

I was scared it’d do something. I was scared it’d do something beyond atonement. I was scared it would steal my life. That’s how the parasite lost my trust.

But if I didn't do anything here, I’d be killed.

“Either die here in despair or hand me the wheel. I’m counting on you to make the correct decision.”

“You won’t do anything, right?”

“Your death is equivalent to my own.”

“I’ll live, right?”

“Believe me when I say my intentions are our survival.”

“Yeah, that’s good enough.”

Atonement lied here. I betrayed myself, sacrificing many lives in the process. There was something I couldn’t give up, which was why I must continue to live, even if it meant allowing my body to be consumed.

“Goodnight, Jill.”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Live or die. I freely opened my arms—

***

I got up, and my mind was as clear as the summer day.

“I’m done dreaming.”

I couldn’t help but grin. I turned, facing the SCAR agent. Its appearance was nobody's business.

“So you're the one who’s causing trouble to my host.”

The SCAR agent noticed me. Its hostility was now focused, and his eyes were like ominous moons. It stomped his foot on the ground, denting the planet. Leaning back, it kicked off the ground.

“This might not go as smoothly as I hoped. Bear in mind, I’m a bit rusty!”

It stood right before me. Its massive fist was upright. It stepped forward with flaming brutality, confronted by me also stepping forward. Its fist swung with an immeasurable force but missed its target.

I swiftly dodged without a problem, punching its helmet. The agent stumbled a few yards, its side of the head dented.

I squeezed my hand a few times. “Normally, that would be a death shot, but you’re still standing. Ionian technology at its finest.”

I flashed towards it, too fast for it to react—at least, that's what I thought. The SCAR agent responded to the strike, swinging down with a hurricane’s force.

I twisted my body, using every muscle to avoid the attack. The attack only grazed my neck.

I was slower and weaker than usual. Normally, I would engulf the host once hatred and wrath reached the overfilling point. It’s my fuel. The more negative emotions JIll contained, the stronger I was. But since I took control earlier than I should’ve, I was roughly a quarter of my full potential.

The agent swung, driving me back. My posture collapsed. I must’ve pissed it off.

It recklessly continued to swing as if it was the only thing it knew how to do. There was no time to create an opening. Even if there was one, would my punch do the job? Dent its armor? If so, I would have to throw hundreds of perfect strikes.

I couldn’t stay on the defense forever. This thing wouldn't get tired, but I will. The only chance of victory is finding the means of attack between the agents' attacks—even if it’s only a scratch.

The attacks thrown were smashing swings with no proper technique. It swung without depleting any energy. Something a human wouldn’t be able to do.

I jumped back, retreating from its overwhelming attacks. When I did so, it lunged towards me—a final blow that couldn’t be avoided.

Even with my bad posture, I managed to parry it, but that was only to avoid a detrimental wound. Unable to brace myself to block its monstrous attack, the impact blew me away.

I fell, my body mimicking a big arc. Somehow, I managed to stand. Blood dripping from my forehead. That's not good; I couldn't afford to injure Jill further.

I couldn’t feel previous injuries from the host; I could only feel the ones inflicted during my ‘arrival’ state. However, when the host returns to their normal state, all the injuries during their ‘unconscious’ state can be felt afterward.

Her suffering and despair were my fuel—my growth. The more she suffered, the more powerful I grew. Today, however, I didn’t want that power. Her survival was my priority—not because I cared for her in any way, but because I wanted to keep living—even if it meant viewing life from the shadows... for now.

I moved, trying to protect my hand. I raised my head. Whatever happens, I couldn’t let it get one good hit. Between Sylvia and now this, her body had pushed past its limit.

“Enough games already.”

The agent rushed towards me, swinging its arms endlessly. My body sank every time I block a blow.

There were no retreats. This thing would follow me to my grave, endangering Jill. Forget about the odds; it’s either I took it out here, or I get taken out.

I kept parrying its attacks, throwing a jab or two with each maneuver. They barely left a mark. At this point, I was draining my energy. I was getting pushed back. It was too close to me, not allowing me to time my dodges.

The agent pulled its fists back and twisted his body to optimize his strength. A strike impossible to block.

But there was no need to block. The time it took to pull back and twist itself entirely was enough to spot a clean opening.

It threw, almost tripping from the lack of resistance. I grabbed the back of its head, slamming it against the rigid edge of a local rock. I repeated this process a few more times, cracking its visor open. Then, I flipped it around, sitting on its chest, and pulled out the sparking strings inside the helmet.

There was no resistance. On its back, it stopped fidgeting.

It emitted an unfamiliar noise, one I wouldn’t normally pay too close attention to. However, this was different. The deeper I dug, the more strings I felt, and the more sparks flew.

“You’re not human after all. An A-tier, perhaps?”

I stood, and the sound of walking on dead leaves came from behind.

“Jill…?”

“What the—your eyes.”

Two men stood beside each other, keeping their distance from me. The man, whose body was almost as big as the SCAR agent's, wore a poorly tied man bun and carried someone who looked asleep. The other was slim and had decent muscle in his arms. Both pairs of eyes stared at me as if I were out of this world.

“You’re bleeding like crazy!”

Using the remaining of my strength, I reached my hand out. Please touch my physical hand. It’s what I wanted.

I didn’t want to live in the shadows. I wanted my own life. A life where I could freely walk wherever I wanted, eat whatever I wanted, and talk to whoever I wanted—a free life without being trapped in someone else’s.

The last time, I was so close. Just a few more uses and Jill's life would have been mine. But Diego had to reveal everything to her. She figured it out and refused to use me, and because of that, I became weak beyond repair.

But here I was, back to the physical word. I wasn’t dreaming. My hands felt the brush of wind. I almost forgot how it felt.

While sheltered in her mind, I couldn’t feel or smell a thing. I could only hear and witness what was happening through her eyes and ears—an endless screenplay trapped inside someone else.

To my creator who gave me a conscience: How cruel could someone be?

I faintly heard them rushing towards me, speaking with each other. My head spun, my eyes felt squashed, my ears rang. It was all white. I couldn’t tell if I was standing or not. All my senses vanished.