Florian was quiet for a mont, simply watching him. His gaze no longer held the sharpness of bla, but the ache beneath it lingered.
"Well," he finally said, voice softer now, "first things first—you really need to start rembering everything, Your Majesty."
Despite the earlier bitterness, there was a trace of teasing in his tone. Light, but not playful. It almost felt like a tired sigh wrapped in words.
"I don’t understand," Heinz said, brows furrowing. "Why do I have missing mories? I... was under the impression I rembered everything from the first life."
"You only rember what you want to rember, I assu," Florian replied with a shrug. "As for why you’re missing things? That, I don’t know."
Then, did Heinz to this to himself?
That’s what he needed to figure out.
"You can’t tell what I’ve forgotten?"
Florian slowly shook his head. "Not even if I wanted to. There’s sothing—sothing—stopping . And before you ask, no, I don’t know what it is." He glanced at the other Florian under the tree. "Maybe it’s him. Maybe it’s sothing else. All I know is I can’t show you everything. Not to him. Not to you."
Heinz followed his gaze to the other version of Florian—the boy who had stirred sothing inside him despite the walls he’d built.
"...Who is he, exactly?" Heinz asked, quieter this ti.
Florian let out a low chuckle. "That’s not for to say. That’s for him to tell you.’
Heinz’s lips pressed into a thin line. ’Ti’s running out. I need to ask everything I can before this ends.’
"Then... what can you tell ?"
Florian’s expression turned more serious. "He won’t rember this conversation. None of it. And he shouldn’t. It might be too much for him. He only knows what you know—plus the fragnts I try to give him. But even then, those mories co only when he’s overwheld. When his emotions spike."
Heinz felt the heaviness in his chest deepen. ’So he’s seeing pieces... without even knowing why.’
"He trusts the wrong people," Florian continued. "Not because he’s stupid. Because he wants to believe people are good. He thinks he’s protecting himself by choosing who to trust, based on who seems familiar or kind from what he thinks he knows. But really, it’s fear. He’s scared. And he doesn’t even realize it."
Heinz nodded slowly. He had noticed it—how easily the current Florian placed his faith in others like Alexandria, despite warning signs. But it hadn’t occurred to him that it ca from fear. A subconscious defense chanism.
There was a long beat of silence before Heinz asked, "...Was it you? His aversion to other n? Besides ?"
Florian looked at him, then shook his head.
"No." Florian answers with an unreadable tone. "That’s all him. Whether he says it out loud or not, he trusts you. He just recognizes that you’re safe."
Heinz’s heart skipped slightly.
’So it’s real. He really does feel safe with ...’
Florian glanced at him again and let out a breathy, humorless laugh.
"Don’t look so pleased. It only makes it hurt more."
Heinz blinked, caught off guard by the honesty of that sting. But Florian only chuckled again, a sound too tired to be sharp.
"No matter. He’s everything I’m not. It’s only natural that he sees you differently."
"...What’s that supposed to an?" Heinz asked, cautiously.
"It ans compared to our first life... I don’t see you as safe," Florian said simply. "And I never will."
His eyes locked onto Heinz’s with sharp finality.
"After all—you’re the one who had executed."
The words landed like a blade. Heinz flinched—just barely—but enough for Florian to see it.
And for a second, Florian looked... satisfied.
Although Florian had said it with a half-joking smile, Heinz knew better.
He had to say it.
"I’m sorry, Florian."
The words were quiet, but they carried the full weight of sincerity. He ant it—every syllable.
Florian’s eyes widened slightly, caught off guard. A sad smile tugged at his lips. He looked as if he wanted to say sothing—anything—but then, it happened.
A flicker.
Heinz felt it in his chest first. That familiar pull.
’No... not yet...’
His vision blurred faintly around the edges, like ink bleeding through paper.
"It seems it’s ti for you to leave," Florian said softly, rising from the ground. The tear tracks down his cheeks caught the faint light, and Heinz felt an ache deep in his chest. "Don’t worry about him. I’ll release him from here. He’ll rember what happened during the kidnapping... but the ’coma’ I placed him in will soften the emotional backlash."
Heinz could feel the sensation growing stronger. The sa disorienting tug as before—slow and gentle, but firm. Pulling him away.
’Already...? No. There’s more I need to know.’
He looked at Florian. "And what about you? Will you just... stay here?"
Florian paused, eyes still on Heinz. "That depends."
"Depends on what?"
"I can’t say," he replied, walking toward him with slow, steady steps. "But—there is one thing I can say. Sothing I feel I’m allowed to tell you before you wake up."
Heinz tried to stay present, tried to push back against the pull. ’Just a little longer.’
Florian raised his hand and cupped Heinz’s cheek gently.
Before Heinz could say another word, Florian leaned in—standing on his toes—and pressed his lips softly to Heinz’s.
Heinz’s eyes widened in surprise.
But he didn’t pull away.
The kiss was brief, lingering with sothing that felt like both a farewell and a mory. It was warm... and it hurt.
When Florian finally pulled back, there was a faint glimr in his eyes.
"There are big things coming," he said. "Just because Alexandria is gone... doesn’t an it’s over."
He waved lightly, a bittersweet smile on his face.
"Goodbye, Heinz."
"Wait—what does that a—"
Darkness.
A heavy, suffocating void swallowed everything before he could finish the thought.
Then—
"Your Majesty, please open your eyes."
The voice was distant at first. Calm.
It was Afton.
Heinz’s eyes fluttered open.
And the first thing he saw was the ceiling of his room.
He was back.
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