I stepped into the house, slipping off my shoes by the door.

A neat row of footwear lined the entrance—large shoes, slightly smaller ones, even smaller ones, and a tiny pair at the end.

So… a dad, a mom, an older or younger sibling, and a little sibling.

Alright. I could deal with this. Hopefully.

A hesitant voice broke the silence.

"Oh… you’re home."

I looked up.

Standing in the doorway was—I’m guessing—my mom.

She wasn’t what I expected. I thought she’d look angry, worn down, resentful. Instead, she looked… afraid.

Her hands fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, her body stiff as she studied me like I was some kind of ticking bomb.

"Yeah, I’m home. It’s nice to see you."

I forced a smile, trying to make my voice as gentle as possible.

She flinched. She actually flinched at my voice.

A cold weight settled in my stomach.

What the hell had this version of me done to her?

She quickly looked away, forcing a nervous smile. "P-please, get comfortable. Oh! I almost forgot your soda!"

Before I could even respond, she cut herself off—her entire body tensing as if she had just made a terrible mistake.

"Please don’t yell at me! It was an accident, I swear! And if you do, I—I’ll tell your father about this!"

My breath caught in my throat.

She thought I was going to yell at her?

No. Not just that. She was terrified of me.

My stomach twisted.

"L-look, I’m not going to yell at you," I said carefully, raising my hands in surrender. "It’s fine. I’ll just get the soda myself, okay? Don’t worry about it."

She stayed rigid, as if waiting for the inevitable explosion. But when it didn’t come, she gave a small, hesitant nod.

I turned toward the fridge, gripping the handle a little harder than necessary.

I needed a second. Just to breathe. Just to process the sickening realization clawing at my mind.

This Kael—the one who lived in this house before me—was a monster.

The fridge was fully stocked, the shelves neatly arranged with fruits, vegetables, and containers of home-cooked meals. A can of my actual favorite soda sat right in front.

Huh.

At least something about this life wasn’t awful.

Just as I reached for it, I heard rustling behind me.

"L-let me clean your shoes!"

I turned.

She was kneeling by the door, reaching for my sneakers with trembling hands.

Like a servant.

My stomach churned.

"What are you doing? No, you don’t have to do that," I said quickly, stepping toward her. "Just… relax, okay? Come sit with me. Let’s talk for a bit."

She froze, looking up at me like I had just spoken a foreign language.

Like she couldn’t understand the concept of me wanting to just… talk.

Her hands twitched, still halfway reaching for my shoes.

I could see the hesitation in her eyes. Like she thought this was some kind of cruel trick.

A test.

But after a long moment, she slowly nodded and made her way to the couch.

I followed, sitting beside her, feeling the plush cushions sink beneath me.

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For a moment, we just sat there, the air thick with unspoken words.

Then, finally, I broke the silence.

"Mom… why are you acting like this? You don’t need to be scared of me."

She stiffened, her hands clenching together in her lap.

"W-what? You… you really don’t know?"

Her voice cracked.

I shook my head, already dreading the answer.

"Y-you used to yell at me all the time," she whispered. "You were cruel to me. Your sister and younger brother would try to protect me from you. And your father—he’d lose his mind every time. But why can’t you remember?"

Her eyes were watery now, her body trembling.

I felt sick.

This version of me… wasn’t just some selfish jerk.

He was abusive.

To his own family.

The realization hit like a punch to the gut.

I clenched my fists, nails biting into my palms.

It reminded me too much of myself.

Of my mother.

How I pushed her away. How she left me because she couldn’t take it anymore.

How I told myself it was fine.

That I didn’t care.

My chest tightened. That same crushing regret. That same guilt.

But no.

I couldn’t break now.

I needed to fix this.

Not just for the sake of the game.

But because I wanted to.

I swallowed hard and took a breath.

"Forget about all of that, okay?" I said softly. "I’m better now. And I want to love you and protect you, just like my siblings did. I promise, Mom—I’ll never yell at you again."

She stared at me, searching my face as if trying to figure out if I was lying.

For a long, painful moment, she just looked.

And then—

Slowly—her shoulders sagged with relief.

She didn’t say anything.

But I saw it in her eyes.

Hope.

For the first time since I got here…

I actually felt like I was changing something.

Later that evening, I heard the front door swing open, followed by a familiar voice—sharp, energetic, and filled with life.

"Hey, Mom! I’m home! I have so much to tell yo—"

Silence.

I turned my head just as she stepped into the living room, her eyes locking onto me. Shock. Then anger. A heat so intense I could feel it from across the room.

She was beautiful in a fierce, effortless way—dirty blonde hair pulled up in a loose clip, red nails tapping against her crossed arms, pink lipstick that made her glare even sharper.

"What the fuck, Kael? What are you doing to Mom now?" she snapped.

I barely had time to process her words before she stormed forward, fists clenched.

"Honey, no," Mom interjected quickly, placing a gentle hand on her arm. "He didn’t do anything. He just… he wanted to tell me he’s sorry. That he loves me and wants to protect me—just like you and your little brother do."

My sister’s furious expression wavered. Her hands shook slightly. "W-what?"

She turned back to me, disbelief twisting her features. "Whatever sick joke this is, knock it the hell off."

"I’m not joking," I said, stepping forward, desperation leaking into my voice. "I swear—I want to fix things. If you just give me a chance to—"

"Bullshit!" She cut me off, eyes blazing. "All you are—and all you ever will be—is a worthless, selfish piece of shit. Son. Brother. Friend. I don’t believe for a second that you’ve changed."

Then, without another word, she stormed up the stairs, the door to her room slamming shut behind her.

I stood there frozen, the weight of her words pressing down on me like lead.

How the hell was I supposed to fix this?

I buried my face in my hands, my mind racing. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do.

A soft touch on my head pulled me from my thoughts.

"It’s okay, honey," Mom said gently. "She’s just not used to this side of you. Give her time."

Time.

I exhaled sharply. I wasn’t sure how much time I had left.

I glanced at the clock. 4:30 PM. I still had time.

Without another word, I rushed upstairs, hoping my room wasn’t the disaster I feared it would be.

To my surprise, it was clean.

Well. That was one less problem to deal with.

I sat on my bed, scanning the unfamiliar yet strangely personal space around me.

A sleek gaming computer sat on a desk in the corner, the screens dark and lifeless. The walls were decorated with posters of half-naked women—things my old self must’ve thought were cool. A bulletin board hung above my bed, completely empty. No photos. No memories. Just a blank slate.

Disgusted, I stood up and ripped the posters down, crumpling them in my hands.

I didn’t want to be reminded of the kind of person this version of me had been.

I needed a plan.

Mom believed me, but my sister? She wanted nothing to do with me. Would she ever come around? And what about Dad? My little sibling? Would they look at me the same way she did?

My thoughts were spiraling when—

A presence.

Cold. Heavy. Dark.

I looked up sharply.

A man stood in the corner of my room, half-shrouded in shadow. He wore a hoodie and cargo pants—clothes that mirrored my own. His arms were crossed, his posture relaxed.

And he was smiling.

"Hello, Kael." His voice was deep, smooth, and laced with something that made my stomach turn. "How’s it feel living in my world?"

I stiffened. I recognized that voice.

The same one that whispered to me at lunch.

The same one that sent shivers down my spine.

"You," I breathed.

He grinned wider. "Me."

Something inside me twisted, anger bubbling up. "You’re a fucking monster."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. Spare me the self-righteous act."

He took a step forward, and suddenly the air in the room felt suffocating.

"You’re here to clean up my mess, aren’t you? To pay off my debts?"

I narrowed my eyes. "What debts?"

He chuckled darkly. "Didn’t the Overseer tell you? Or did you actually think this was just a game?"

His words sent ice down my spine.

A game.

That’s what this was supposed to be.

But now, for the first time, I wasn’t sure anymore.

He tilted his head, mockingly polite. "In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m you."

His grin sharpened.

"Kael Holloway. The Sin of Pride."

He gave an exaggerated bow, dripping with sarcasm.

I clenched my fists. "So this world… this was where I embodied my pride the most."

Pride smirked. "Bingo. And judging by that look on your face, I’m guessing you don’t approve of my work."

I glared. "What you did here was fucked up."

"Aw, is someone going to avenge them?" he taunted, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Is someone going to make everything better?"

I clenched my jaw. "If that’s what it takes to win this damn game, then yeah."

His smirk faltered just a little before he scoffed.

"You really think this is about being a hero?" He stepped closer, staring me down. "Let me give you a piece of advice, Kael."

He leaned in, eyes gleaming with something terrifyingly familiar.

"You’re not the hero. So stop acting like one."

The words hit harder than I wanted to admit.

And then—

Just like that, he was gone.

I blinked, breath shaky. My room was normal again, the weight in the air lifting as if he’d never been there at all.

I looked at my watch.

5:00 PM.

Right on time.