Slowly, he steps between me and the beast's claws. Our gazes meet. His figure obscures that of the abomination behind him, small in comparison, but from it, I sense much more danger.

He finally speaks, breaking his silence. “...I thought you’d be more surprised.”

I scoff, blood spilling from the corner of my mouth. “Why? Because you’re a traitor… or because you’re a liar… or both?”

I can clearly feel it, the power he’s been hiding within him. ‘This guy’s well into the second stage..’

With an exhale, he takes a knee, crouching to lower himself to my level. From this close, the coldness in his eyes is even more unsettling. “...Teacher had mentioned it in passing… but I suppose it is true that you can see souls too…” He breathes out, long and heavy, and extends a hand. “...Won’t you join us? What we want is-”

I spit in his face, most of it being blood. “Does that answer your question?”

His jaw tenses, but he maintains his composure. He wipes the splatter on his cheek, the cold, calculating look unwavering.” Yeah, I figured.”

His gaze drifts across the battlefield, where the beasts have been frozen in place, mid-snarl, mid-claw. Even though they’re immobile, there is no one who can take advantage of it. Eventually, his gaze lands on Zora, and it lingers, for just a moment more. Something flickers in his eyes, but it disappears as fast it appeared. He closes them, his expression unreadable, and looks back to me.

An imperceptible frown forms on his face, betraying a silver of emotion. “You know, It didn’t have to be like this… I tried to save her… the others too..” His voice drops, as if confessing to himself. “but they made it impossible…”

He shakes his head, biting into his lip. “..I had no choice, if I could-”

“I don’t care.”

His eyes narrow. “...What?”

I grit my teeth. “Spare me the sob story…I don’t f***ng care...”

I raise my head, meeting those cold, unrecognizable eyes. “You had no choice…?” My voice trembles, but my fury helps me surmount the pain. “You didn’t want this to happen…? Why the hell should I care!?”

My heart burns, my veins pop. “Should it make me feel better that you felt conflicted…?” I ask, the words dripping with scorn.

“My friends are dead… because of you!” I shout, staring into his eyes. “And that makes you an enemy, that’s all there is to it.”

I ensure that my intent is properly conveyed, a fire igniting within me. “You better kill me today… Otherwise, I’ll hunt you to the ends of the earth… I’ll take away everything you hold dear and rip you apart, piece by piece.” This is a promise, not a threat. “Even if you do kill me… I’ll come back, escape the abyss… I’ll rise from the depths, and I’ll make sure to finish the job!”

The image of my mother’s killer overlaps with Adam’s. The rage overflows, and I shout, cry out. “I’LL MAKE YOU ALL PAY…!!”

“Huff huff” A soft breeze washes over my face, uncaring for the intensity of the moment.

Adam scoffs, his mouth twisting with disdain “...You should see your face right now.”

The fire within me dwindles. My head drops, just a few words have sapped the little strength I had left.

His fingers land on my chin, raising my head. “Is that all you had to say, Alden?”

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

I don’t have the energy for another outburst, not anymore. Through rugged breaths, I barely manage to push out a few more words. “Just… do it…”

Adam’s cold palm presses on my face. “...I never liked you all that much to be honest.”

I feel my end is coming.

But then, a twisted idea creeps into my mind, and I scoff. ‘Yeah, why not?’

Slowly, I lift my left arm. It’s bending in all sorts of unnatural ways, the pain almost blinding. Still, I raise it, high enough for my crooked fingers to rest on Adam’s chest.

“...What are you doing?” He asks, his brows furrowing

I do not let him get another word in, before my broken hand plunges into his chest.

—

The scene blurs to a conversation I had with Professor Quill not that long ago. He seems to be lost in thought, mulling over something in his head. I wave my hands a few times in front of his face, snapping him back to reality.

“Hmm?”

I clear my throat. “I wanted to ask you something, Professor.”

If there’s anyone who can answer this, it’s him. Professor Silverthorn might be the authority for combat, but when it comes to the complexity of [melodies] and the mysteries surrounding them, he’s the expert.

Immediately, his lips extend into a smile. “Of course! Please, do ask! I don’t get a lot of questions from you lot these days!”

I scratch the back of my head, feeling a bit embarrassed to ask. “This may be ridiculous… but I’ve been wondering.” I breathe in. “Do you think it’s possible for an [enlightened] to possess two [melodies]?”

“No.” His response is sharp, cutting, without a shadow of hesitation.

“Your [melody] is the embodiment of your being. It defines you. It represents who you are.” He strokes his chin. “Even if you had, say, a diagnosed multiple personality disorder, you’d still have only one [melody]. That’s been shown time and time again… To have more than one is, by definition, nonsensical.”

My heart sinks; so much for answers. “Yeah, that was a dumb ques-”

He interrupts. “Though… there have been records of individuals exhibiting more than one distinct ability, even at the first stage…”

My eyes widen. “Really!? If what you say is true, then how is that possible…?”

He grins. “That is the question, isn’t it? One can only theorize…”

“And what is your theory, Professor Quill?”

He pauses, thoughtful. “I think… that it’s really just two parts of a whole… that hasn’t, or isn’t meant to mix. It’s the same song… just different parts. ”

—

My mind lingers on the conversation, replaying the words.

I still clearly remember the [fracture], when [it] stopped me from unraveling that first [melody]. the one that dripped with darkness and venom... That has never left my mind. Because of [it], that song was left incomplete, unusable.

I don’t know when… but at some point, I began feeling this strange urge to complete it myself. The problem was that it never amounted to anything. Whenever I believed that I had something, [it]’s words echoed in my mind.

If the melody is too difficult for your soul to play, you explode and die!

There was never a reason to take that kind of risk.

But now?

‘If I’m going to die anyway, I might as well try it..Two parts of a whole huh…’

This is my first original. Born from the snippet I obtained during the fracture, and the insight I gained from Soulweaver’s soul link tethered to me this entire time. The soul is the instrument.

A new, yet fitting [melody] resonates within my soul. It has an eerie feeling to it, but its underlying tone does not evoke fear - just dark resolve.

My hand plunges deeper into Adam, but it’s not physical. Rather than enter his body, I enter his being. There’s no pain involved. He shouts, confused, but I cannot hear him anymore, my mind entirely focused on something else.

‘If there’s a shield… there should be a spear too, right?’

The shield’s purpose is to protect, disrupt, nullify, and the spear-

I reach deeper into Adam’s self, and I find it. His soul - his instrument.

-The spear’s purpose is to break, then.

Pluck..Pluck..Pluck…

Furiously, his soul fluctuates, it twists under my touch. He cries out in pain, in anger, and from his hand, a repelling force is emitted. I’m pushed back a meter or so, the impact painful, but not lethal. I grovel on the ground, hurting, but breathing.

Adam staggers, blood dripping from his nose. “What was that…? What did you do?!!” His voice cracks, the cold calmness gone, replaced with fury and confusion.

‘Haha…. So it worked.. And that was only three notes…’

“You should see your face right now…” I sneer, the words tasting sweet on my lips.

With a snarl, he lunges, delivering a brutal kick to my stomach. I reel from the pain, coughing more blood. Anger contorts Adam’s face as he stands over me, seething. “...Teacher demanded I bring you back alive. Count yourself lucky.”

He turns away from me. “...I’ll deal with you later. For now, I should wrap this up.” He mutters to himself, before snapping his fingers. “You have permission to kill them all, save for the pathetic one behind me.”

A cold dread settles over me as I’m forced to watch his massacre. Is this really the end?

As if answering my question, something stirs in the sky above, and the clouds part. A set of golden eyes take their place. Their hue is strangely familiar, but I cannot remember where I have seen them before.

The voice that echoes from them radiates power, however. [This won’t do.]

His words hold unimaginable authority, and as soon as it reaches them, the creatures stop in their tracks. This time, not because of a command, but because of fear. They’re trembling, collapsing, going mad.

Adam looks up, sweat beads forming on his forehead. He feels the pressure too, and for the first time, he looks…uneasy. “...I was told you’d be coming.” Though he lowers his head, I sense no reverence in his voice. “I greet the Grand Patriarch of the FullCastle Family: Member of the Octave, Scalatore, Sirius Do… FullCastle.”

‘What?!!’