The oil lamp flickered in the drafty mountain hut, casting long shadows along the rough wooden walls. Outside, the wind howled through the trees, restless and unrelenting, but inside, the room held a silence thick with something unspoken.
Two men sat across each other at a worn table, the wood scarred with age, the weight of the moment pressing down like the cold night beyond the door.
The man in black studied Jake with a steady, unreadable gaze. Not anger. Not pity. Just certainty. His voice, when it came, was calm, almost curious.
“Why, Jake?” he asked. “Why throw your life away for something you don’t even understand? What’s the point when there’s no reason, no purpose?”
Jake exhaled a quiet laugh, running a hand through his disheveled hair. His eyes gleamed, part reckless, part exhilarated.
“You wouldn’t understand,” he said, his voice carrying the ghost of a smile. “The edge is the only place I feel real. Knowing someone out there wants me dead, knowing one mistake is the difference between life and nothing… it sharpens everything. It clears the noise. You call it a risk. I call it clarity.”
The man in black sighed, shaking his head—though not in disappointment. Something closer to recognition.
“And now?” he said. “Where has it brought you? A hunted man. No place to run, no place to hide. I used to admire your fire, but this… this is something else. What you took from the Organization isn’t just a stolen artifact, Jake. It could change everything.”
His hand drifted toward his coat subtly, measured. A warning.
Jake leaned back, unconcerned, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement.
“It’s been years since I took it,” he said. “And to be honest, I don’t even care what it is. But I have to say I’m impressed. I knew they’d send someone eventually. I just didn’t expect you.”
His grin widened. “That makes things a hell of a lot more interesting.”
The man in black’s fingers inched closer to the weapon hidden in his coat. His breath stayed even, his expression calm, but Jake saw the shift—the weight of a decision being made.
Jake tilted his head, the glint of something dangerous in his eyes.
“I wouldn’t,” he said lightly. “Not unless you want this whole place to come down on both of us.”
The man in black hesitated. Calculated.
“Then what do you propose?”
Jake reached into his jacket, slow and deliberate, careful not to startle the hunter. He pulled out an old revolver and placed it gently between them on the table. The metal caught the flickering light.
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“Let’s settle this the old-fashioned way.”
The man in black’s gaze flicked to the gun, then back to Jake.
“If I die, you’ll find what you’re looking for in my jacket. If you die, it’s over.” Jake’s smile darkened. “But if you refuse, I promise your death won’t be quick.”
Silence stretched between them, tense and weighty. Then, after a long moment, the man in black gave the smallest of nods.
Jake spun the cylinder with a metallic click, the sound breaking the quiet like a crack in glass.
He lifted the gun to his temple and pulled the trigger.
Click.
Empty.
He slid the revolver across the table.
The man in black picked it up, turning it in his hand. His face gave nothing away. Then, with practiced ease, he raised the barrel to his head.
A breath.
Click.
Jake chuckled, shaking his head.
“Funny, isn’t it?” he mused. “How death feels closer when you invite it in.”
Another spin. Another pull.
Click.
Jake leaned back, completely at ease.
The man in black lifted the revolver once more.
Click.
Jake’s smirk didn’t fade. “Fate’s got a cruel sense of humor tonight.”
He spun the cylinder again, let the tension linger for a moment, then pressed the barrel to his head. He closed his eyes briefly as if savoring it.
Then, without warning, he shifted his gaze straight at the man in black.
For the first time, the hunter’s composure flickered, just for a second.
And then
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Jake’s body went rigid.
The sound didn’t belong. It pressed in, too sharp, too deliberate, like something forcing its way into a world where it had no place.
His vision blurred. The room wavered.
And then
He woke.
A gasp tore from his throat as he jolted upright, his skin damp with sweat. His hands gripped the sheets, searching for something, anything, but finding only the fabric of his bed.
Morning light seeped in through the dusty window of his apartment. The air was still, quiet, real.
His breath was uneven as he scanned the room, the weight of the dream pressing against his ribs.
“Again,” he muttered, voice raw. “I keep dreaming of another world… or should I say another me.”
He dragged a hand through his hair, trying to shake the lingering unease. But the doubt was always there, creeping in like a shadow.
“Sometimes I wonder…” He exhaled slowly. “Is any of this real?”
Then
Knock. Knock.
His breath caught.
This time, he was awake.
He stood, made his way to the door, and opened it.
A young maid stood outside, bowing respectfully. “Young Master <mark>Nox</mark>, it is time for breakfast. Lord <mark>Ainz</mark> is expecting you today.”
<mark>Nox</mark> nodded. “I’ll be there shortly.”
At the dining table, <mark>Ainz</mark> <mark>Diablo</mark> and Evelyn <mark>Diablo</mark> conversed in hushed voices.
“It seems <mark>Nox</mark> has finally recovered his strength,” Evelyn said, her face alight with warmth. “I’m so happy. He seems cheerful, working hard training and studying all day.”
<mark>Ainz</mark> nodded pride in his gaze. “I always knew he would recover, becoming stronger than ever.”
<mark>Nox</mark> entered the dining hall, his eyes falling upon his parent’s strangers, and yet… something about their smiles lightened his heart, and at the same time, a hollowness coiled deep inside him.
So this is what it feels like to have a family.
Warmth. Safety. And yet, a distant detachment. A foreign sensation that didn’t quite belong.
As they ate, <mark>Ainz</mark> spoke again. “<mark>Nox</mark>, you have trained well. It’s time to travel to the capital to learn more at the Imperial Academy. I have selected a few talented individuals from the northern regions to accompany you worthy peers who have also earned their place.”
<mark>Nox</mark> looked up, the weight of expectation settling upon him.
The path ahead was set.
And yet, in the depths of his mind, the echoes of another man whispered.