Charlotte’s eyes widened as she saw the source of the voice. Her breath hitched, trembling words escaping her parched lips.
"W–What... are you...?" she managed to ask, her voice cracked and heavy with exhaustion.
Before her floated a round, pulsating sphere of light, its radiance so intense it pierced through the endless white void, casting distorted shadows that shouldn’t have existed in such a place.
The voice let out a disdainful snort.
"You want to know who I am?" it sneered, every word dripping with venom. "What if I told you... I’m your fear?"
Charlotte’s expression froze. Her throat tightened as confusion and dread tangled within her.
"My... fear?" she whispered hoarsely. "What do you an you’re my fear?"
The sphere of light flickered, as if hesitating to speak. For a brief mont, there was silence, then its tone shifted, sharp and venomous.
"I am not entitled to tell you who or what I am," the voice spat, each word laced with disgust. "It’s for you to find out when the ti cos. But looking at you now... so weak, so pitiful, what could you possibly do?"
Charlotte’s breath trembled.
The voice’s hatred was palpable, almost tangible, like it wanted to claw into her very soul. It appeared that if there was anything in existence it despised most, it was her.
"You’re disgusting," it hissed. "You couldn’t even protect Vivian. How useless can you be?"
Charlotte said nothing. Her lips quivered, but no words ca out. Guilt pressed down on her chest like a crushing weight.
"Oh, what was it you promised his mother again?" the voice continued, mockingly thoughtful.
"Ah, yes... that you’d protect him. No matter what. Yet you couldn’t even keep him safe for six months."
Charlotte wavered in sha as those words made her recall her promise, but she was so useless she couldn’t even keep it for six months.
A cruel laugh echoed in the void.
"How utterly pathetic."
The Voice continued, "and now, because of you, he’s suffering, endlessly," the voice snarled, its tone dripping with venom.
Yet, the mont Vivian’s na passed its lips, the malice softened.
The once-cruel voice trembled with sothing different, sothing almost tender, as if the re thought of him carried weight even it could not deny.
Charlotte drew a sharp breath. That single shift in tone caught her attention like a spark in the dark.
"What... what do you an he’s suffering?" she asked, her voice hesitant, fragile, yet burning with desperate hope. "Does that an... he’s still alive?"
The void around her seed to grow quieter, the light pulsing softly in response.
Her eyes widened, glimring with an emotion that bordered on madness.
Obsession, love, denial, everything she had buried ca surging back.
She took a trembling step closer to the ball of light, her gaze filled with feverish hope.
"Tell ," she whispered, her voice cracking, "he’s alive... isn’t he?"
The sphere pulsed violently, its glow twisting with visible disgust.
"How selfish can you be?" it hissed. "Do you even understand what kind of life he’s enduring? No... calling it life would be an insult."
The light dimd for a mont, as if weighed down by the mory, before flaring again with rage.
"He’s in hell, the very hell you dragged him into. Waiting for death... praying for an end that never cos."
Charlotte’s eyes trembled. Her lips parted, desperate to speak, but before a sound could escape, the voice cut her off.
"If it weren’t for you, he wouldn’t be suffering like this!"
The words struck her like a blade to the heart. The sphere’s glow intensified, flooding the void with blinding radiance.
Then, without warning, a vast screen of light unfurled before it, rippling and alive, as if made from the fabric of mories themselves.
Charlotte’s eyes widened in disbelief as the image flickered to life. At first, she couldn’t comprehend what she was seeing, but then her expression shifted from confusion to utter horror.
"V–Vivian...?" she whispered.
There he was. The person she had longed to see again, the one whose mory had haunted her dreams, but not like this.
His body hung in a state of agony, every breath a silent cry for release.
His face was pale, his form battered beyond recognition, yet she knew him. She could feel it.
Her trembling hand reached toward the glowing surface, desperate to touch him, to assure herself it wasn’t real.
But her fingers passed through the screen, eting only cold emptiness.
"Vivian..." she choked out again, her voice breaking.
The mont shattered her completely. Tears stread down her cheeks as she fell to her knees, her heart twisting painfully at the sight before her.
The reunion she had dread of for so long had turned into a nightmare she could never escape.
The sphere of light hovered silently, its glow steady as Charlotte’s sobs echoed through the void.
During Vivian’s absence, if anyone had suffered more than anyone, it was her.
Charlotte had endured tornt that shredded both body and mind, living through countless dreams where she saw him die over and over again before her eyes.
Each vision was more unbearable than the last, yet even amidst that relentless pain, she had always convinced herself her suffering was nothing compared to his.
Now, as tears stread freely down her cheeks, that conviction burned brighter than ever.
She wept not for herself, but for him, for the one person she cherished more than her own life.
The light watched on, patient and unyielding, as Charlotte’s grief filled the endless white void.
Charlotte’s sobs echoed endlessly in the void. Ti lost all aning; minutes, hours, perhaps days she no longer knew.
Then, at last, the ball of light spoke, its tone flat and hollow.
"Stop your crying. You’re not feeling anything... it’s all just an act."
The words fell like stones into silence, but Charlotte didn’t react.
It was as if her mind could no longer hear, her heart too broken to register cruelty. She kept weeping, her tears unending, her voice trembling with raw pain.
The light flickered faintly. Despite its harsh words, even it knew the truth, Charlotte’s grief was not a performance.
Her love for Vivian wasn’t fake, it was real, more real than anything. The purity of her love was as clear and untainted as the heart of a newborn.
To her, without Vivian there was nothing; with him, there was everything.
He was her lifeline.
No matter how many lives she might live, it would always be the sa.
She belonged to him, and he belonged to her, no amount of ti or reincarnation could erase that truth.
And the ball of light knew that better than anyone, as it sighed and fell silent.
After a long pause, the voice spoke again, quieter this ti.
"I can give you another chance," it said. "A chance to repent... to fix your mistakes."
Charlotte froze.
For the first ti in what felt like eternity, her tear‑streaked eyes lifted toward the ball of light.
"W‑What...?" she whispered, her voice trembling with fragile hope.
"I can give you a chance to fix everything," the voice repeated, calr now, its tone carrying an almost divine certainty.
Her breath quickened. The faint spark of hope in her eyes began to grow.
"Can I really... fix everything?" she asked, her voice shaking. "Can I save Vivian?"
The sphere pulsed faintly, as if deep in thought. Then it spoke again.
"Yes," it said at last. "But... I have a condition."
The words barely reached her before she was already moving closer.
Joy and desperation mingled in her gaze as she stumbled toward the light, her tears catching its glow.
"I’ll do anything," she pleaded. "Whatever you want, just say it. You want my life? Take it! Just... please, save Vivian."
The ball of light let out a cold, disdainful snort.
"What would I do with your pathetic life? I don’t want that," it said. "I want sothing else."
Charlotte didn’t hesitate for even a heartbeat.
"Anything you ask," she said quickly. "Money, power, an empire, whatever you desire, I’ll give it!"
Her tone revealed a fanaticism that would do anything if she was told it could give her a chance to save her Vivian.
But the ball of light didn’t seem pleased, as it threw sothing onto the ground.
Clang!
A sudden clang echoed through the void, the sound of tal striking the unseen floor. Charlotte flinched and looked down.
"Prove it," the voice said flatly.
Her breath caught.
"Prove your resolve. Prove you’re capable of enduring what he endured."
Charlotte stared at the object before her, realization dawning slowly. For a long mont, the world was silent.
"I just need to bear what Vivian bore?" she asked softly.
"Yes," the voice replied, calm and unfeeling.
A faint, eerie light shimred in Charlotte’s eyes, a mixture of sorrow, madness, and devotion.
Without another word, she stepped forward, her figure trembling but determined, the void echoing faintly with her labored breath as she began the act of sacrifice unseen.
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