《I Won't Forgive You!》


 First Death

    A man of obvious strength stood among the passing and going of a busy path, wearing a high-spec augmented suit.


    He wasn''t moving, just staring up at the darkening sky, golden eyes fixed on the ten moons high above.


    Judging by the irritated grumbles of people weaving around him, this wasn''t exactly out of the ordinary.


    Seemed like stopping dead to moon-gaze was his daily routine.


    He was a thorn in their otherwise monotonous commute and every word they sent his way they saw as justified.


    Who did this "retarded bastard" think he was¡ªa main character or something?


    Honestly, he just appeared like he lacked a few chromosomes.


    But... unfortunately for them, none of their curses reached his ears.


    The man was simply too immersed in his thoughts.


    ''...Just what am I doing?''


    He sighed, a long, drawn-out sound, before shutting those thoughts down and starting to move, blending into the flow of people.


    The last time he let himself spiral, things certainly hadn''t ended well.


    Shivering slightly, he shook his head and took a deep breath, calming himself.


    ''Yeah... never again.''


    With that, the man returned to his previous countenance, calm and steady.


    The sea of people guided him to a long queue, where those dressed like him had lined up.


    He went past them and approached what appeared to be an automaton, standing in the middle of the pathway.


    Without saying a word, he took out his terminal, a hand-sized mobile device, and hovered it over the automaton''s plain face.


    A moment passed and...


    Beep!


    Its eyes lit up in green, as did its mouth, forming a smile.


    The sight was creepy, but it didn''t bother the man at all; in fact, he seemed to find it quite comical.


    "Sir Malik, one hundred Valora have been deposited in your account. If there are any mistakes, be sure to reach out."


    He nodded at its words but didn''t move, noticing that it had more to say.


    "Thank you for your service, Sir Malik. We''re pleased to inform you that your clearance level has increased. You are now eligible to participate in S-Rank raids."


    Malik furrowed his brows, reacting quite negatively to the news of his promotion.


    "...Can I reject it?"


    "No."


    "I figured as much. Fine, I get it."


    With a light tap on the automaton''s shoulder, he moved past it, following the crowd as if nothing had happened.


    It appeared that he had been expecting the news for a while now, yet it still didn''t sit right with him.


    It wasn''t that he wanted to stay in this Hellhole¡ªit was the alternative that made him pause.


    The reasoning wasn''t hard to piece together.


    Even though he didn''t know how they operated exactly, whatever horrors he faced here would be incomparable to the ones in S-Rank raids.


    A promotion? No, this was nothing short of a death sentence.


    And Malik wasn''t keen on letting it play out.


    With another weary sigh¡ªone of many that day¡ªhe trudged onward, his footsteps leading him to yet another queue.


    This one was beside multiple others, each leading to rows of massive, highly reinforced buses with human-sized tires.


    Once another beep! resounded, the queue began to clear as everyone entered their respective bus.


    Malik climbed aboard, making his way to the back.


    He settled into a seat that was far more comfortable than the sorry excuse for a bed he had back at the dorms.


    It wasn''t just the cushioning, though that certainly helped¡ªit was the location.


    The back.


    He had been a backbencher since birth, and for whatever reason, he always felt relaxed there, nostalgic.


    Besides, it was the safest place to be if a workmate of his decided to be a little spicy.


    Beep!


    With that all-familiar sound interrupting his thoughts, their bus driver announced in a robotic voice:


    "Destination, Dormitory A-10, ETA one hour, five minutes, and twenty-six seconds. Enjoy the ride."


    Just as it stopped speaking, Malik looked outside, quietly observing the scenery as the bus began to move.


    Those next to him weren''t so sentimental.


    Most had taken out their terminals and began to mindlessly scroll, taking in data no more important than the grime beneath their feet, utter slop meant to be forgotten.


    The rest?


    Loud, obnoxious chatter filled the air, voices rising and falling as they bragged about their most recent dance with monsters and how they defeated them with minimal effort.


    One of them cooked up a story where he killed three monsters with a pen... yes, a fucking pen.


    Typical, exaggerated... none of it mattered¡ªnone of them seemed to care.


    Malik, meanwhile, was lamenting his situation and what his next steps had to be.


    ''Hahhh... I''ve got nothing to show for myself. Nothing for them, either. Maybe... just maybe, this is my chance. My chance to become a Celestial.''


    That final word carried a weight that made his chest tighten.


    He knew people¡ªmany much younger than him¡ªwho had already Ascended above mortality, becoming Celestials.


    Some had struck it rich in some unknown Ruin, while others were propped up by a strong backing, all thanks to their good looks no doubt, a pretty face to display in advertisements to attract investors.


    Their lives were the dream of many.


    But Malik?


    He was nearing thirty, still stuck in the starting position, unable to take the next step.


    ''Too bad my handsome mug sends those bastards running.''


    His lips curled into a wry grin.


    ''I could''ve even been a model for them~.''


    Chuckling quietly at his dumb joke, he glanced at those beside him, then back at the wasteland.


    Malik was just like the rest of the dregs, a tiny cog in an otherwise unfathomable machine.


    He recognized that.


    Though he wasn''t bitter about it.


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings....Okay, maybe a little. But he''d come to terms with his place in the world.


    He was satisfied.


    Sure, he wasn''t rich, nor was he powerful, but at least he was contributing to something good.


    The protection of his people¡ªno matter how small his part in it might be.


    Slowly nodding his head, he appeared to have come to a decision, one that he kept within.


    Time ticked by, and soon the bus came to a smooth stop, exactly on time.


    "Arrived at Dormitory A-10."


    After a beep! the front and back doors hissed open.


    Malik waited his turn, letting everyone leave first.


    He didn''t see the need to rush; the dorm wasn''t going anywhere.


    Why they pushed each other around when it was all the same in the end was beyond him.


    But he just shrugged his shoulders and summed it up in one phrase:


    ''Human Nature.''


    When mostly everyone had gotten out, Malik finally stood, stretching lazily before hopping off.


    The pavement below lit up with a flashing green trail, guiding him forward.


    He stuffed his hands into his pockets, following the path past the bus stop.


    While walking, his gaze wandered up to the buildings surrounding him, piercing the clouds in the sky.


    Stark, uninspiring blocks of reinforced concrete and steel, their identical designs blending into one monotonous backdrop.


    "WATCH OUT!"


    But just as he was about to look away, a man''s shout yanked his attention.


    He was on a hoverboard barreling straight toward him, threatening to crush his head.


    Malik''s eyes widened, and he stepped back with all his strength.


    His body flew for a moment, just barely dodging the man.


    But before he could even feel relief¡ª


    HOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK!


    His heart sank.


    That desperate step of his had sent him right into oncoming traffic.


    If it were a cruiser or even some kind of sports car, he could''ve easily cleared it, but this...


    ''Oh, you''ve got to be kidding me.''


    It was a truck so massive that it took two whole lanes of the road.


    ''Dammit!''


    Using the momentum from his last step, he pushed off the ground hard, throwing himself into a backflip high up in the air.


    The top of his head barely missed scraping against the truck''s roof as it roared by, leaving only the rush of displaced air in its wake.


    ''Close¡­ too close.''


    But, again, his relief was short-lived.


    Twisting his body and looking down, he saw exactly where he was going to land¡ªor rather, on whom.


    There was no time to avoid it, no time to even yell a warning.


    All he could do was brace for impact, raising his arms.


    Thud!


    The collision sent the poor guy flying like a rag doll, hitting the ground with a heavy thump and rolling to a stop before a dumpster filled with trash.


    Malik landed a little more gracefully, but not by much, stumbling to his feet.


    "Shit¡­"


    He glanced at the dazed figure sprawled out ahead of him.


    "Guess I''m buying lunch after this."


    Malik was about to check up on him, but just as he began to crouch down, movement caught his eye¡ªa glint of steel nearing his head.


    ''OH COME ON!''


    It didn''t take a genius to piece it together.


    That poor guy had been someone''s target, and Malik, in all his unlucky glory, had just taken his place.


    ''This''s what I get for being stingy.''


    Malik would''ve chuckled at the absurdity of what was happening, but he had no time to.


    He needed to figure out what to do in those fractions before the strike reached him.


    Only one thing came to mind.


    Throwing himself forward, he dropped to the ground.


    That was the right move, but it wasn''t fast enough.


    A moment before he could escape the dagger''s trajectory, it had reached him, easily going through his augmented suit''s force shield, as it had almost no energy, and grazed the back of his neck, deep, drawing blood.


    "Ugh¡ª!"


    In incredible pain, he rolled to his back, blood gushing and dripping as he barely stopped himself from groaning.


    ''Fuck me.''


    Clutching the wound, Malik fumbled for the emergency pills in his pocket.


    But of course,fate wasn''t done with him yet.


    Before he even had a chance to pull them out, he was interrupted once more.


    "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


    A scream from above made him freeze.


    His head tilted up, neck throbbing, to see a guy hurtling through the air face-first, flailing like a deranged skydiver.


    Malik blinked.


    ''Seriously?''


    The guy was plummeting straight toward him.


    ''You''ve got to be kidding... am I dreaming?''


    He chuckled in disbelief, wondering what he did to anger the world so much.


    Giving up, he locked eyes with the screaming idiot, whose face twisted in terror as the ground rushed up to meet him.


    They were blank.


    ''...Guess we''re both having a bad day, huh?''


    Splat!


    ***


    In a realm heavy with divinity, where void was commonplace, three beings stood in silence.


    The first was a figure of pure white, featureless, save for ''His'' eyes¡ªa deeper black than the darkness surrounding them.


    They drew in everything, commanding death.


    Beside ''Him,'' the embodiment of shadow took form, ''Her'' presence a swirling mass of endless depth.


    ''Her'' rubies of red held a stillness that felt eternal as if they saw all.


    It wouldn''t be far from the truth, after all; darkness hid everything, and the night saw all.


    Before them, shrouded in a shifting blue ''fog,'' was another figure.


    Nothing but ''Her'' eyes were revealed¡ªtwo clocks of a deep blue.


    Their faces were devoid of hands or numbers, yet if looked at long enough, one would imagine a tick.


    Together, they gazed into a window through space suspended in the void below.


    It showed the scattered remains of Malik and the ''nameless,'' his head crushed beyond recognition.


    "Are you sure about him?"

 Defeated Villain

    The man of pure white held ''His'' chin, seemingly pondering ''His'' decision.


    "I am. People with his mindset are rare."


    "Mhm... Are you sure it''s not because of his name~?"


    The ''fog'' covered Lady teased, and the two before ''Her'' shared a laugh.


    "Maybe..."


    ''He'' smiled, his lips widening to a degree beyond normal, maniacal almost.


    "But you can''t deny he fits the job."


    Ruby eyes nodded ''Her'' head, though ''She'' wasn''t seen, ''Her'' body no different from the void around ''Them.''


    "He does, but his mental strength is¡­ lacking. I''m sure we''ll see him struggle much more than the other candidates."


    The Lady''s eyes narrowed.


    "Right. Dealing with my Blessing is tough you know? The original one went insane, I doubt this one wouldn''t"


    The shadows turned to the man of white.


    "I''m sure you''ve already thought of this."


    ''He'' pointed at Malik.


    "Just watch him. ''Her'' Blessing is a none issue to guys like him."


    As if summoned by ''His'' words, another figure materialized from the dark, joining their space.


    Unlike the Lady of blue, this being was entirely shrouded in ''fog'' with tendrils of purple swirling as though alive.


    To an outsider, it might seem as though his ''fog'' shielded others from his presence, but the truth was the exact opposite.


    It was to protect him from seeing ''Them.''


    For if he did, death would be the least of his worries.


    Glancing at the man of white, he asked:


    "Should I begin?"


    ''He'' nodded.


    "Please do."


    Snap...


    With a single flick of his fingers, a reverberation passed through the void.


    Then, under their collective gazes, Malik''s soul began to move, leaving what remained of its body behind.


    It was on a journey not to where Reapers usually took souls like it, the Nether''s River, but beyond, far deeper in the vast expanse of the universe.


    And there, where its destination was, four souls could be seen, waiting, specks of white on an otherwise bleak planet.


    "Good luck... I''m sure you''ll need it."


    ***


    Malik''s first thought when his soul stirred was pretty simple:


    ''Oh¡­ I''m actually dead.''


    He expected a rush of panic, regret, or maybe even some deep, emotional reflection about all the things he didn''t do.


    But nope. None of that. If anything, he felt¡­ curious.


    He wanted to know what''d happen next.


    Was it reincarnation? Unity with God? A day of judgment? A Heaven? A Hell? Devoured by a demon? Or just a plain boring spiritual realm?


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.''Most people would probably cry about the stuff they didn''t get to do. Like, oh no, I never dove ruin whatever, or, I never told Stacy from Sector Management I loved her...''


    His thoughts paused.


    ''Kinda wish that I did actually... ah, wait.''


    Malik realized that he had just contradicted himself.


    ''I''m a hypocrite, so what? Sue me!''


    But yeah, he shook his metaphorical head and continued:


    ''Screw Stacy. What''s happening next sounds way more interesting.''


    It was hard to describe the sensation of floating through the universe as a soul.


    He couldn''t see anything. Couldn''t feel anything tangible.


    It was like being blind in the deepest part of an ocean, the pressure so immense he should''ve been crushed a thousand times over.


    Or, better yet, it was like being a sperm cell inside a vagina the size of a galaxy, swimming aimlessly, hoping for an egg to inhabit.


    ''That''s probably not the metaphor anyone else would''ve gone for, but hey, it works.''


    Time was weird here.


    It stretched and bent, and Malik wasn''t sure if minutes had passed or centuries.


    He didn''t feel bored, though. If anything, he felt¡­ aware?


    Yes, hyper-aware of the vast nothingness around him.


    It was like being on the edge of something monumental, except the edge never ended.


    But eventually, like all good things, that awareness began to fade, replaced by a kind of dullness.


    His thoughts slowed, his curiosity dimmed, and for a moment, he wondered if he was just becoming part of the void itself.


    To combat that, he began to cook up theories, busy his mind, and the main one sounded quite pheasable.


    ''Maybe this is on purpose... Like, a way to prep me for whatever''s next. Or most likely it''s some bored god screwing with me for fun.''


    Malik leaned more towards the latter, but he could easily bet that either of them was true.


    He would''ve kept spiraling down that rabbit hole of existential dread but change began to occur.


    It was subtle at first, a flicker of sensation in the void.


    Then, without warning, everything rushed back.


    Light, sound, feeling¡ªit all hit him like that truck almost did.


    And suddenly, Malik wasn''t floating anymore.


    He was in something.


    His fingers twitched. His lungs sucked in a sharp breath.


    ''Oh.''


    His eyes snapped open.


    ''I''ve got a body again.''


    But before he could even think of celebrating, his fate of being interrupted continued:


    "I, Zafar, announce that this VILLAIN is defeated!"


    Malik blinked.


    ''...What?''

 BASSOR�H!

    Malik''s vision was still adjusting to the fancy hall he found himself in, confused as to what the Hell had just happened.


    But even then, when he didn''t know right from left, he heard the man''s voice loud and clear.


    "I, Zafar, announce that this VILLAIN is defeated!"


    He was a villain? Since when? And who the fuck was he to¡ª


    ''I know him.''


    Malik joined the trend and cut his own thoughts off as information; no... memories about this twink of a man resurfaced.


    Zafar Al-Nadir.


    A figure he could only describe as obnoxiously heroic.


    A goody-two-shoes, an ignorant hypocrite, a naive and incredibly lucky bastard that had all his shit handed to him.


    The very antithesis of Malik.


    Truly, a fitting "hero" of this story.


    His looks weren''t too bad either, unlike a certain someone.


    He was lean, dressed in layers of vibrant fabric with golden embroidery, mimicking the Persians and Arabs of old.


    A curved blade, far too fancy for proper combat, was strapped to his hip.


    His face was decently handsome, eyes a soft green, his hair white, reaching his neck.


    He held his head high, looking down at Malik, his smile annoyingly perfect.


    ''This guy''s definitely the main character of whatever mess I''m in.''


    Zafar was the head of a grand coalition, a patchwork of different guilds united for one single purpose: to kill the "Villain."


    And judging by the state of Malik''s body¡ªor what he guessed was his body¡ªZafar had succeeded.


    But Zafar wasn''t the only one of importance... he wasn''t the only ''character'' in this ''play.''


    And that was to be expected; after all, what was a "hero" without his "heroines?"


    Standing beside him, fuming with resentment, was Huda.


    His own fucking sister.


    Her pink eyes twitched repeatedly as she barely stopped her tears from flowing.


    She was just that angry, giving Malik a look that would kill him a million times over if it could.


    Huda was a petite girl, her hair a dark pink, long enough to reach her waist.


    It blended quite nicely with the royal crimson dress she wore.


    ''...Why?''


    As Malik took in her appearance, his stomach twisted.


    Memories bubbled up again, like a half-forgotten dream, unbidden and painful.


    She wasn''t just some Noble. She was the head of a family of Sultans, Al-Sayf, rulers of sand and sun, wielders of an unfathomable number of Magi.


    And now, she stood against him.


    Against her own brother.


    The next figure had a presence that was impossible to ignore.


    She was the only one sitting, and her throne wasn''t even on the ground.


    It was high up, near the hall''s ceiling, looking over everything.


    Noor Al-Ayan, the reincarnated princess.


    Unlike the others, she carried herself with an air of detached amusement, like this entire scene was a play staged for her entertainment.


    It was a mask, sure, but the others couldn''t even manage that.


    She wore a black dress, modern and wildly out of place among the shared aesthetic.


    Her dark hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, her eyes hidden by a veil that covered her face.


    Malik remembered her too.


    She was once a student of his; now? The owner of the most famous company on the planet, an empire that dwarfed kingdoms in influence and wealth.


    A system came with her reincarnation¡ªa gift from whatever cosmic dice roll had landed her here¡ªmade her untouchable. Unstoppable.


    Well... at least to anyone except Malik.


    The fourth figure made him feel an unplaceable emotion.


    Roya Al-Ra''i, the broker of secrets. A regressor, and also an ex-student.


    She didn''t shine like the others, didn''t radiate power or royalty.


    Instead, she was quiet, almost unassuming, her blonde hair typical, her white robes making her out to be like any other person there.


    But her blue eyes¡­ they were sharper than anyone else''s.


    Malik remembered them vividly.


    After all, she was the one who brought everything together, the one who ensured his chains were unbreakable, a Holy Relic, one of the Ten Commandments.


    Roya wasn''t just an information broker; she was THE information broker.


    Her guild spanned the entire planet, her web of spies and informants unrivaled.


    Nothing happened on Fam Iblis without Roya knowing about it.


    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.And now, she stood against him too.


    Finally, there was Safira Al-Hayat.


    If Roya''s presence was a quiet storm, Safira''s was a gentle breeze.


    She stood with an air of kindness, motherly almost, her soft features and flowing green dress almost at odds with the cruelty of the world they lived in.


    Her long ginger hair shimmered, making Malik remember the countless people who had called her the "Fairy of Devil''s Maw."


    Unlike the others, she wasn''t only his student; she was his sole disciple.


    That thought hit Malik harder than he expected.


    She had once looked up to him, trusted him, even admired him... but now?


    Now she stood with the others holding a blade above his neck, her gaze filled not with anger but with pity.


    ''I don''t need your pity.''


    Malik clenched his fists¡ªor at least, he tried to, but couldn''t.


    His body was chained, knees dug into the dirt, his arms spread out like a sacrificial lamb.


    The chains covered him from head to toe, originating from a broken fabric of space.


    He tried to move, struggle, and push against them, but his body felt dead as if he had zero control over it.


    Malik could only breathe, blink, and look, like a man on his deathbed.


    But then, just as he was about to pause his thoughtless attempts at escape, like a ghost rising from the grave, a man appeared.


    Malik''s eyes immediately tracked him, but none of the others before him did, quickly making him realize that only he could see him.


    The man had an appearance similar to Malik''s, though much more handsome and scar-free.


    He had ear-length golden hair with flicks of red and a tail-like end that reached his lower back.


    His eyes were a bright gold, not the beautiful kind of gold, but the kind that made your very soul shiver.


    Though Malik wasn''t as affected by them, likely due to the man''s current state, appearing like a faded photograph, his body translucent.


    ''You''re in my body.''


    Malik blinked, unsure how to respond.


    ''Uh¡­ yeah, I kinda noticed that.''


    The man chuckled, his voice weary.


    ''I''ve been hanging on for a while, but I''m done... Now this is your problem to deal with.''


    ''Wait, what?''


    Malik stared at him.


    ''You''re just¡­ handing your body over? No fight? No big plot twist? Like, ''Here you go, buddy, enjoy the mess''?!''


    The man shrugged, his form already starting to dissolve.


    ''I''ve had enough... I just want to rest. But don''t worry¡­''


    He paused, a faint smile playing on his lips.


    ''You''ll remember everything when I''m gone.''


    Before Malik could protest, the man''s body shimmered, breaking apart into tiny specks of light.


    Some of those lights drifted toward him, sinking into his chest.


    And sure enough, the floodgates opened.


    Memories surged through him¡ªimages, emotions, knowledge¡ªall crashing into his mind like a tidal wave.


    He saw everything the man had experienced, everything he had done, everything that had led to this moment.


    And then, as quickly as it had begun, it was over.


    Malik was no longer just himself. He was someone else too, a ''Villian.'' A man contradictory to himself.


    He looked back at the five who stood before him, the ones who killed the original owner of this body.


    Slowly, something dark and visceral bubbled up inside him.


    Rage.


    Unforgiving, unrelenting rage.


    His gaze bore into them, his body trembling.


    He wanted to scream, to shout, to curse them all.


    ''I WON''T FORGIVE YOU!''


    But unfortunately, his roar was heard only within his mind.


    Malik wanted to end their lives right at that very moment, but, again...


    He was trapped, powerless.


    Yet his eyes did show helplessness, not even close.


    ''...Just how can I get out of this?


    And then, as if answering his very thoughts, a voice resounded.


    It was deep. Dangerous. Alluring.


    {Would you like to rewrite your Path?}


    Malik''s breath hitched.


    {Would you like to make them Cry?}


    The voice''s power was intoxicating, impossible to resist.


    {Would you like to make it past your Promised Day?}


    ''...I do.''


    {Would you like to become a True King?}


    ''I DO!''


    {If so, repeat after me¡­}


    {Bassor¨¡h.}


    ''BASSOR¨¡H!''


    {...}


    "..."


    {...}


    "..."


    {...}


    "..."


    The world paused.

 A Paused World

    Nothing could move, absolutely nothing.


    Not Malik, not Zafir, not Huda, not Noor, not Roya, not Safira... not even the planet''s sun.


    A star so massive that it baked Devil Maw''s surface like an oven would a candle was paused, its heat unfelt.


    Then, all of a sudden, Malik began to shift, not his body but his soul, moving bit by bit as if he were a stone statue coming back to life.


    Tick Tock...


    The sound of a clock resounded, and Malik''s soul had finally gotten out of its confines, leaving his body a hollow husk.


    ''Fuck just happened?!''


    He looked around, quickly realizing that he was now floating a small distance above his body, just where a king''s throne was placed.


    Malik tried to fly away, thinking of inhabiting a less... controversial body, but noticed that even now, in his soul form, he was trapped.


    Two ethereal chains bound him to his body, locked around his feet.


    ''Huh, my soul looks like his now.''


    Only then, when he looked down on his body, did he notice an obvious difference.


    He was no longer a floating speck of light, but an actual humanoid with an appearance similar to that of the Original Malik.


    ''Nice... I''m a handsome bastard at least.''


    With those thoughts, he began to experiment, and soon, came to a few conclusions.


    Though he was now free to fly about, he couldn''t get far as the chains attached to him had a limit¡ªabout ten meters, give or take.


    And honestly? He wasn''t in the mood to find out what kind of cosmic paintrain would hit if he yanked on it too hard.


    Still, the chain wasn''t what really interested him.


    The whole time-freeze thing was way more interesting¡ªand freaky.


    Everything around him was stuck in place, frozen mid-motion, like someone had hit the "pause" button on the universe, leaving him the only one moving.


    And then there was the whole "out-of-body" thing.


    It was wild.


    Floating there, untethered except for the chain, Malik felt like he''d accidentally wandered into some bizarre VR game.


    He could see himself from the outside, like he was in third-person mode, but it was still him. Trippy.


    ''Like I''m some kinda God or something¡­''


    That thought made him pause.


    However long ago, he wasn''t even a Celestial, but now, he said things like that with a straight face.


    A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but then he shook his head quickly.


    ''Nope, not going there.''


    That was how bad ideas snowballed into worse ones.


    ''Focus.''


    Malik looked around again, waiting for something¡ªanything¡ªto happen.


    And¡­


    Nothing.


    Absolutely nothing.


    ''Hm... maybe I should¡ª''


    He decided on what to do, or rather say, mid-thought:


    ''Bassor¨¡h.''


    Ding~!


    A somehow familiar sound resounded in his mind, and a Script appeared once more.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.{Embodiment System has been bound... Malik, you are hereby pronounced as a Blessed Magi of the Lady Of Time.}


    Blessed? Magi? Lady Of Time?


    Malik didn''t know what any of that meant, though that didn''t stop him from guessing.


    The first was easy; he had been Blessed by whoever brought his soul here, and that likely gave him the system in some way or another.


    Magi sounded like what people called Celestials in this land; now whether it was just a faraway planet or a whole different universe, he didn''t yet know.


    The last was obviously the perpetrator, at least the one that didn''t mind ''Her'' name being known, as the one truly in charge was likely hidden behind the scenes, a puppeteer stringing this play along.


    As if it had been waiting for his thoughts to settle, the Script continued to write just as he reached a conclusion:


    {Your life is now in your hands... The more you embody Malik, the stronger you become, reaching the heights you once flew.]


    ''Wait, we''ve got the same¡ª''


    {Malik...}


    The Script had joined the trend as well.


    {They''ll see your truth. They''ll see everything you''ve done for them. They''ll see how you''ve become a "villain," the death you''ve endured. Many of them will cry, beg, and scream; some might laugh it off, and a few others would act indifferent, cringe at your sacrifice, but you... I need you to remain strong. Don''t run away from it. Don''t falter like he did.}


    His face turned serious, almost blank, and he looked up, straightening his legs and bowing deeply.


    "Lady of Time... thank you for this second chance. Whatever you''re after, I promise I won''t disappoint."


    {...We''ll see.}


    The Script crumbled and then disappeared as if it had never existed.


    And just like that, everything clicked.


    Malik didn''t need to overthink it anymore.


    No need to strategize or dissect this so-called "system" of his, or whatever other fancy name it went by.


    It was simple now¡ªpainfully simple.


    There was no need to strategize or check out the capabilities of this ''system'' of his, or whatever it was called.


    All he had to do was embody the memories of the original Malik.


    Live through them, survive them, and somehow claw his way back out with his sanity still intact.


    His survival beyond the Promised Day¡ªthe day after his scheduled execution¡ªhinged entirely on this.


    And while it sounded straightforward when one said it like that, anyone with half a brain would know it was anything but.


    ''Figures... I wasn''t wrong in my assumptions; two are right. A devil swallowed me whole, and now I''m stuck in hell.''


    He smiled.


    ''Bassor¨¡h.''


    The world had returned to truth, and soon, a Sultan''s life would be on display for all to see.

 ...Beggar?

    ***


    The world''s protagonist, the "hero," surrounded by beauties on each side, continued to smugly look down at the "villain."


    Zafar could feel Malik''s life force continuously becoming weaker, and he loved that feeling.


    It felt as if he''d just repeatedly hit the jackpot at a casino, the house always in his favor.


    Though it was unfortunate that they couldn''t see his face, as it was wrapped in chains, his enjoyment was unaffected.


    With his current power, Malik had no chance of escaping; their victory was assured.


    Now, they only had to wait for ten days, watch as the "villain," who had tormented their lives, died a dog''s death.


    But still, most of them didn''t let their guard down.


    The man before them was unlike any other¡ªan uncontested Sultan for many hundreds of years.


    He was bound to have a trick or two up his sleeve, hidden behind the thousand he had already displayed.


    As long as his head wasn''t on a spike, most of them wouldn''t be at ease.


    Malik was just that terrifying.


    His palace, his very execution ground, showed that in spades.


    It was the most sacred place, coveted by all in Fam Ibless, a place of worship, of peace, yet now...


    Not a single surface was clean of blood; it could be seen everywhere, even dripping in some areas where dead bodies lay in the tens of thousands.


    A one-sided massacre had taken place, and all of it was done by one man.


    Alone.


    Right, he had killed tens of thousands of Magi by himself.


    Such a feat was simply unheard of; no Sultan in history had even come close to it, and many among them were warmongers, so it certainly wasn''t due to their different mentalities, just a lack of strength.


    The people weren''t told what rank he was, but they could guess quite easily.


    Malik was a Class-Three of the third sub-rank.


    He was one breakthrough away from becoming a Class-Two...


    A Mal¨¡k, a literal Angel.


    Such a thing many could not yet fathom.


    How they had defeated him, even with one of the Ten Commandments, was beyond them.


    It was a miracle.


    No one but that shameless Zafar would claim otherwise:


    "You saw how I moved?! The villain couldn''t even track my sword!"


    The women beside him had already left, each now in their own group, forcing his bunch of yes-men to replace them.


    "Ahahahaha! No doubt he was astonished by you, lord!"


    "I believe the same! Bastard was too distracted by your magnificence that the trap worked perfectly."


    "He didn''t know what hit him!"


    Their words flowed one after the other as if it was choreographed, and that might as well have been the truth judging by their flinching brows.


    "I''m telling you, only I deserve the villain''s crown!"


    None the wiser, Zafar continued to gloat, hoping for one of the "heroines" to bite the bait, join him to converse, yet none did, all too busy doing actual work.


    While the bastard tried to show himself as popular when Malik was awake, the girls didn''t really like him, at least not in that way.


    Huda was the closest one to him, as he found her the easiest to woo, but even she was a hard nut to crack.


    Her obsession with her brother took over most of her life, even when she tried to act like it didn''t.


    "What do you think, Huda? Does your brother''s crown fit me?"


    Disengaging from a conversation with a woman who looked very similar to her, she turned to Zafar, glaring.


    Those words certainly weren''t the most sensitive, and unfortunately for everyone around him, it appeared as if it had been the norm, as his yes-men looked away, pretending to have heard nothing.


    "You wish to be Sultan?"


    Zafar quirked a brow, somehow surprised that his words were taken in such a way.


    "N-No... well..."


    He glanced at those in the hall, his goons, his yes-men, people of his coalition, and they nodded at him, conveying what was needed.


    "Actually, I am. There''s no better than me; besides, I''m the only g¡ª"


    "Quiet."


    Noor, who remained seated on her throne, shut Zafar down at once, the pressure imitating from her bending his men''s bodies.


    Though the girl didn''t seem like she had a horse in this race, arguably after Roya, she wanted Malik dead the most.


    She even took the help of Zafar, a man that she hated like no other but had to get along with to keep things flowing.


    But now, as the deed was finally done, she didn''t need to keep up appearances.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.Zafar had fulfilled his purpose; maintaining relations further would only harm her, making her lose a brain cell or two each time they talked.


    "W-What?"


    He looked at her in surprise, not expecting that treatment from her at all.


    Though she was always cold to him, keeping him at a distance, she had never been so rude.


    But before he could confront her about that, a change had occurred...


    A flashing light of white appeared above Malik, coalescing randomly.


    Everyone without exception looked at it in horror, immediately expecting the worst.


    "...How? Even Gods can be bound to its chains."


    Roya was the one most terrified, as she knew full well the capability of such a Holy Relic.


    There were only nine others like it in the whole universe, reaching a rank that was quite literally named {Broken Grade.}


    That showed just how impossible it was to escape its shackles, but here she was, being proven wrong while unable to do anything about it.


    "I-Is this really happening?!"


    "Impossible! Even if he had become a Mal¨¡k, there''s no getting out of it!"


    "No, he''s Shaytan''s Sultan! That blasphemous being had come to help him escape!"


    "Should we attack?!"


    "I say we kill him before Shaytan gets here!"


    Men screamed like little children in a playground, repeating the same question but hesitating to take a single step.


    No one was brave enough, well, no one except the main characters.


    Roya dashed in front of them before they could even move, stopping them in their tracks.


    "Don''t forget the Flaw you imbeciles!"


    They stuttered, stepping back as her sharp words rang in their ears.


    "O-oh yeah, sorry, Lady Roya."


    "My apologies, Lady Roya."


    That went on for a while, as they finally calmed back down, turning to face Malik once more.


    And it was good that they did, as beneath their astonished and fearful gazes, he, Malik, the Shaytan''s Sultan, the world''s villain, had begun to move.


    His arms, which were stretched on either side of his shoulders, had lowered, reaching his thighs, tensioning the chains even further.


    Then, his right leg went up, allowing him to put his foot on the ground.


    He was no longer on his knees.


    Standing up, he moved forward, slowly, very slowly. His destination? The throne. His throne.


    The chains rattled and pulled against him, but they were powerless to stop his advance.


    It was as if he was no longer within their grasp, casually walking against their might.


    Each step echoed louder than the last, hammering into the crowd''s ears like a countdown.


    After what felt like forever¡ªbut was only a minute¡ªhe stopped in front of his rightful place.


    Without so much as a glance at the crowd, he turned and lowered himself into it like he''d been sitting there his whole life, which he was.


    One arm draped lazily over the armrest, the other resting on his knee.


    His back leaned into the plush cushions, but his posture? Still all command and no compromise.


    Then his chin tilted up just enough to tell everyone a few words:


    "I own this place."


    They couldn''t see his face, but they knew that he was looking down at them; they could feel his golden eyes trained on them... judging them, dismissing them.


    It was infuriating. Insulting. Just revolting.


    And they especially hated how much they couldn''t look away, as if their minds subconsciously acknowledged that to be the truth.


    Just then, at the same point where the thousands in the hall looked, the light above him finally condensed, exploding into a blinding flash, flooding the hall and forcing them to shield their eyes.


    Many wanted to scream, thinking that they were under attack, but they held it in, believing in the Holy Relic, in Roya.


    And they were right in doing that, as this wasn''t an attack, far from it.


    Once the light subsided, a new addition to the hall could be seen.


    Between Malik and them, a holographic-like screen had materialized, displaying a seemingly familiar face.


    It was a young, malnourished Malik, around twelve years of age.


    He wore tattered robes, sitting on the ground, beside a busy street, repeatedly asking a question that they all could hear as if the screen spoke to their minds directly:


    "Could you spare some change?"


    There was no doubting it.


    They now, for whatever reason, were watching Malik''s memories.


    And it turned out, the man they had all feared was a... beggar?

 Two Little Ones

    Malik was indeed a beggar.


    Everyone could see and hear that.


    None doubted that it was fake.


    They couldn''t, no matter how contradictory Malik appeared to be.


    This projection before them was the work of the Holy Relic itself.


    Otherwise, the sheer strength it emanated wouldn''t make any modicum of sense.


    They all felt like they were standing before God.


    It was a power just that absolute.


    "ALL HAIL!"


    Many hundreds kneeled, their heads crashing to the ground as they prostrated.


    "ALL HAIL!"


    Those two words shook the palace, echoing with each following roar:


    "ALL HAIL!"


    "ALL HAIL!"


    "ALL HAIL!"


    Most remained standing, less religious, and more doubtful.


    They looked at those prostrating with disdain, as the scene made it appear that they were praying to Malik, the very Villain they swore to kill.


    The five main characters showed no such emotion, however.


    Their eyes remained on the screen, simply transfixed by what they were seeing.


    THAT Malik, a man who''d choose death before even asking someone for a favor, a man prouder than anyone had any right to be... he was begging for change.


    Just... what?


    They were speechless.


    But Noor had gotten out of that state quite quickly, and a certain thought began to form:


    ''Malik is evil, that''s undeniable, but still, his memories... they could be useful; it''s not every day you see a Sultan''s life.''


    A few others had stumbled upon similar thoughts as well, and their interest in the long movie they were about to watch increased tenfold.


    Some of the dumber ones weren''t interested, deeming his memories a compilation of genocide and manslaughter.


    The rest of the main characters, however, were a bit more emotional.


    Huda, as obsessed as she was, wanted to know why.


    Why did Malik betray her?


    She HAD to know.


    And sure enough, Malik was eager to let her find out.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    "Please, a few coins would do; I haven''t eaten in days..."


    Malik repeated under the shade of a large building, its green-colored onion-like dome shielding him from the blistering heat of the sun-like star they called Shams.


    His back was on its stucco walls, which looked smooth and sandy like they were made from sun-dried clay or limestone.


    "Just one would do, kind sirs, please."


    People walked by in the streets before him without even giving him a single glance.


    Carriages filled with food, barrels of alcohol, and commonly used items went past, pulled by domesticated monsters in the shape of camels, revealing their high levels of wealth.


    Yet none of their owners stopped, their minds ignoring his cries as if it were the passing of wind.


    Malik sighed and leaned his head back on the wall, eyes staring up at the blue sky where twelve moons could barely be seen.


    ''Another spot it is...''


    Pushing himself up, he grabbed a wooden stick that sat near him and began to walk, stumbling after each step, his bony legs unable to carry him.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    The crowd was speechless.


    This was the Villain''s life when he was young?


    Where was the evil?


    Many claimed him to be a devil spawn, but he just looked like a pitiful child with a mind way beyond his years.


    "He seriously can''t be the Sultan, can he? It''s just..."


    No one wanted to say the quiet part out loud, but it was obvious to everyone here.


    Pitiful.


    If they ignored what Malik had done later on, now, they could clearly feel that one emotion.


    But not all felt that way.


    Those more aggrieved felt regret.


    If they only knew who he was and who he would become back then, they would''ve quickly ended his life.


    It was better for all, his suffering would seize and millions of people would remain among the living.


    Roya was of that mindset.


    After regressing, she searched far and wide for Malik but found nothing of his origin.


    Who would''ve known that he lived in that Godforsaken district, just beside the center of their planet, the abyssal hole that devoured all, Al-Fawra?


    She was sure that if she did, his district wouldn''t have existed by the end of the day.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik stuck to the shaded areas so as to not lose whatever water he had left in him and made his way further into the district.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.The more he walked, the worse the buildings had gotten.


    Many leaned into each other like drunkards after a long night.


    Some had balconies held up by beams that looked ready to snap, their wooden railings decorated with colorful but faded fabrics fluttering lazily.


    Others had their walls painted in garish patterns that might''ve been beautiful once but now looked like someone had thrown a fight with a paintbrush.


    This district was called Zawaya, known as the mixing pot of all that was illegal on Fam Iblis.


    Smugglers, outlaws, and slave traders¡ªjust anyone who wanted to get rich off less than legal means.


    Malik seemed used to the place, its layout memorized, his routes allowing him to reach Suq Al-Khamis with no issues.


    It was a Market Plaza where many stalls sat on either side of the road, vendors hollering over each other to sell their wares.


    "Get your spices here! Fresh from the Eastern Dunes!"


    The stall nearest to him was a mess of clay jars and woven baskets, all filled to the brim with colorful powders¡ªreds, yellows, and greens that almost glowed under the sunlight.


    The vendor was waving a handful of dried herbs like they were gold.


    And opposite that stall was the reason why he had come here.


    It was a kebab shop.


    God, the smell.


    Sweet, tangy, and spicy scents from grilled skewers and bubbling pots mixed with the sharp stink of rotting herbs, flour, and whatever the guy two stalls down was selling out of those suspicious wooden barrels.


    The heat made it worse, turning the air into a sticky soup that clung to your skin, but still, he quite liked it, at least it was better than nothing.


    Malik was just so damn hungry, he felt full from the smell alone.


    It satiated his senses for a long moment, allowing him to hold on for a bit more.


    He could''ve asked them for a piece or even leftovers thrown in the trash, but he didn''t dare get close to the vendors.


    They would beat him to death''s door if they saw him.


    It wasn''t because he stole from them; he never did, never, but because it was "bad for business."


    And they weren''t wrong.


    Malik was thin, too thin, his rib cage showing, and his face? It was sunken and pale, unlike most around him, which had darker skin tones, making him feel alien.


    Yeah... his appearance certainly wasn''t going to bring any customers.


    It might even drive them out, but he knew better than to let that happen.


    Malik remained quiet and just stared at those coming and going, his eyes doing the talking, the begging.


    He was tiptoeing around the unspoken rules, doing all that he could to survive.


    Thankfully, it had worked, as a man eating a freshly baked flatbread from the kebab stall threw it his way like he was throwing garbage in a trash can.


    Malik didn''t care about that, not one bit; he caught the half-eaten bread with both hands and repeatedly bowed to the man.


    "T-Thank you! Thank you so much, kind sir!"


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "The Villian seems to have been shrewd since young."


    "Yeah, it''s no wonder he reached such heights."


    That was the common consensus among those watching.


    They couldn''t help but admire the ingenuity of the young boy in front of them.


    "Maybe that''s where his resentment started."


    Others began to theorize, deeming themselves smart enough to predict the story while most stayed quiet, still in disbelief.


    This before them was their Sultan, a man who ruled over the entire planet, and he was now bowing his head for a piece of bread.


    Huda was most affected by this as she knew well what was coming next.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    The man didn''t even look at Malik and kept walking, but again, Malik didn''t mind, continuing to bow his head.


    Once the man was out of sight, Malik straightened his back, patted his torn robes, sighed, and pushed himself up.


    He then walked to the alleyway to his left, wanting to eat his meal in peace.


    But just as he turned the corner, he noticed two figures covered by a small pile of sand further ahead.


    Malik blinked.


    "...Dead?"


    No, they weren''t.


    He could see them groan and twitch, like a fish''s last moments out of water.


    Malik stayed still for a moment, then glanced behind him, then back at the two little ones.


    A decision seemed to have formed as he put away the food.

 Beautiful Sacrifice

    "...Sorry."


    With one final glance, Malik began to walk away.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "I KNEW IT!"


    Huda felt a huge wave of relief watching as her brother left them for dead.


    She always wondered if something she did had changed him, or if their brother''s death had broken his heart.


    It ate her up inside, as she wanted something to blame... anything¡ªanything but herself.


    And this in front of her was an out, one that she latched on to with all that she was.


    Malik was never kind; he just pretended to be.


    All their life together was a lie... she... she wasn''t wrong to kill him.


    ''Right?''


    The others weren''t going through the same mental gymnastics that she had.


    Rather, they only saw his decision as something natural, expected.


    It was a beast-eat-beast world out there, especially for those less fortunate.


    His survival was in question every second that he breathed; adding two kids to the equation would prove too difficult for him to solve.


    They would die, and he would too, so if they were in his place, they would''ve done the same.


    The fact that he was hesitating had already surprised them enough.


    But then, what happened next had shut them up and made them feel shame.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    The pitiful boy stopped just as he was about to exit the alleyway.


    He tried to move but couldn''t; his weak fists clutched in a protest against himself.


    His rational side demanded his body to leave, but his heart couldn''t bear leaving those two kids to die.


    After a trembling sigh escaped him, his trembling had stopped, and he calmly looked back.


    "I''m too kind for my own good."


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    Everyone without exception glanced at Huda and her early celebration.


    Usually, that would''ve made her embarrassed, but their thoughts about her were the last thing on her mind at that moment.


    She made herself believe that Malik had never loved them, that he cared for them only to benefit later on, their lives an investment, but now she couldn''t deny the obvious truth.


    He had saved them knowing that death would be the likely result.


    At least at first, her brother truly loved her...


    ''Just why?''


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik walked up to the two and kneeled next to the sprawled figures.


    One was a six-year-old girl, and the other was a seven or eight-year-old boy.


    Both had pink hair, and their faces were just like his, pale, a sight that he wasn''t used to.


    But that was where the similarities ended


    Their cheeks were chubby, their bodies with a healthy amount of fat, and their clothes were brand new.


    He didn''t know where they had come from but those two weren''t beggars, that was for sure.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "Lady Huda?!"


    "You knew the Villain since young?"


    "Is that why you call him ''brother?''"


    "And who is that other boy? I''m sure he''s as popular as you are!"


    "Please explain Lady Huda!"


    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.Ah, it seemed that many people still didn''t make the connection.


    "What dumbasses..."


    She muttered, only for her family to hear, then roared:


    "The Villain is my brother no longer! Now enough questions!"


    That had shut them up, as no one wanted to talk back against the head of Al-Sayf.


    Or that would''ve been the case if Layla, Malik''s ex-wife, wasn''t there.


    "Can you really say that with all your heart?"


    Huda''s body stuttered as she looked to the side, eyes landing on a dark-skinned woman with golden irises, like a cat''s, and long purple hair that flowed along her slender back.


    She wore an all-black mourning dress that hid all her undoubtedly bountiful curves.


    "Layla, now you want to speak? After everything''s said and done?"


    The woman let out a sad chuckle.


    "Like his disciple, Lady Safira, today I''ve only come as an observer... though he betrayed me, annihilated my family, he was once my husband. I won''t fight him."


    "Then¡ª"


    "Please."


    Layla cut her off with a raised palm and said:


    "I''ve given you an answer. Give me mine."


    Huda showed a face of obvious struggle as she tried to think up what to say.


    "I... you... What do you even mean by that?!"


    Shaking her head in disappointment, Layla looked away, her eyes returning to the screen.


    "Nothing, Lady Huda, just... nothing."


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik had checked their breathing and quickly realized that death had nearly embraced them.


    They needed water, fast.


    Malik shoved his right hand into his robes and took out a gourd.


    He looked at it for a few moments, unconsciously gulped, then uncapped it.


    Picking up the girl''s head with his left, he parted her lips with his right, angled her neck, and began to slowly pour the water on her tongue.


    She, though out of it, managed to gulp down the water, desperately.


    Once he paused, her lips spasming for more, begging, but he gave them none.


    It was her brother''s turn.


    The boy reacted much the same, but again, Malik couldn''t afford to spoil them, capping the gourd and securing it beneath his robes in the strap that bound his pants.


    He had to ration it; those two had drunk an entire month''s worth, leaving barely any water to last them until next week.


    "Alright, now food."


    Malik set his makeshift cane aside, and picked up the two, leaving them leaning on the wall to his right.


    With the gentlest of motions, he broke apart the now cold bread and began to feed it to them, piece by little piece, like a mother bird and its little chicks.


    It was a beautiful scene, one that showed his first sacrifice for them... his kindness.


    The two stayed still, only their mouths moving, munching away at the carbs entering their bodies.


    Not long after, when barely any of the bread was left, Malik had some for himself, a piece no bigger than his palm.


    That was going to be his only meal for that day, yet he didn''t seem to have any complaints.


    Just then, while he was dusting his hand off the flour, the boy''s eyelids fluttered open, revealing two bright pinks.


    "...You... who are you? What do you want with us?"

 Cute Little Smile

    Well, that wasn''t a nice way of saying thank you, was it?


    Malik chuckled, knowing better than to say his thoughts out loud.


    "You can relax, kid; I''m risking my life by saving you."


    The boy rubbed his eyes and leaned forward, looking around in confusion.


    "W-Where are we?"


    Joining the wall beside him, Malik leaned back and simply answered:


    "The Zawaya district, a den of bastards."


    The boy offered no reaction to those words, showing that he had no idea where the hell he was because if he knew, he would''ve long since begun to panic.


    "You don''t belong here... You and your sister''s clothes are too fancy. How the fuck did you end up here? Where are your guards? And what are your parents even thinking?"


    Stunned by the barrage of questions, the boy clammed up and looked down.


    "...I... I-I... I¡ª"


    Malik tapped his shoulder, saving the boy from his self-induced stroke.


    "It''s fine; don''t worry about it. You don''t need to answer."


    The boy looked at him with a fearful gaze.


    "R-Really?"


    "Yes, really, now wake your sister up; we have to get to shelter before sundown."


    "Okay!"


    Malik stood up and limped to his stick while the boy shook his sister like an alcoholic before a coin pusher in an arcade.


    The poor girl woke up in a daze, flinching slightly as her brother spoke:


    "Sis! Wake up! A kind man is helping us; please wake up before he changes his mind."


    He was right to worry, but the "man" they were dealing with wasn''t going to abandon them.


    Malik wasn''t one to leave something half-complete; he saved their lives, and that made him responsible for them.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    Shame wasn''t enough to cover it.


    Everyone who believed he would leave them behind, or at least supported that decision, had their heads lowered like the boy of a few seconds earlier.


    Not only because the two had turned out to be of the Al-Sayf family, with the younger of the two now standing alongside them, but also because a boy hundreds of years younger than them had chosen a harder path.


    One that they, in all their respective might and intellect, were too afraid to take.


    Or perhaps it would be accurate to call it risk-averse, as even the bravest of them, who stood in the front to fight Shaytan''s Sultan, picked the safer option.


    It was logical; it should''ve been the right thing to do, but still, they were embarrassed, having lost face.


    Some of them that picked neither thought that Malik would''ve just helped them out and dipped, perhaps coming in contact again later when terms were more favorable.


    But no, they were proven wrong.


    Malik, for no incentive at all, and at the detriment of his own life, had taken those two in.


    Huda, who had now realized that, was more focused on her brother.


    She barely remembered him; it was just so long ago, but she was sure that he was important to Malik.


    How, or why, she was soon to know.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    "Mommy, daddy... where are you?"


    The little girl cried repeatedly while on her brother''s back, wasting the hard-earned water that Malik had given her.


    But he didn''t seem to mind as he walked in front of them, from one shade to another, a building to the next, deeper and deeper into the district, until they reached a massive cliff that stretched beyond what they could see from left to right, revealing an unfathomably big abyss, the Al-Fawra.


    It was why the planet was known as Fam Iblis; this hole was the maw of the devil.


    One might think that humans would stay as far away as they could from it, but funnily enough, the more desperate one was, the closer they''d be to it, even directly above it.


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.And that was literal, as many abandoned buildings atop a wooden floor could be seen leaning into the maw as if slowly being devoured.


    "Alright~..."


    Malik pointed at the furthest of the buildings and smirked.


    "We''re almost home, kids; just don''t look down."


    The girl shrieked, cowering behind her brother''s back, and the boy didn''t seem to listen.


    As if on purpose, his head snapped down just as they stepped before the creaking wood.


    His eyes and his legs trembled, almost causing him to drop his sister.


    Malik sighed, turned around, and held out his hands.


    "What''s your name?"


    "...I... I-I... I¡ª"


    "Holy shit! Okay, okay, enough; I get it! Your parents told you not to say it, correct?"


    He slowly nodded.


    "Alright, fuck me, I won''t ask again, but I need to call you something, so for now, how about scaredy-cat?"


    "..."


    "No? Then, let''s see... chicken?"


    "..."


    The boy offered no reply, trembling with his eyes half-closed.


    "Hm... tough, weakling? Wimp? Wuss?"


    His brows twitched as he finally snapped and went forth, wanting to kick Malik''s shins.


    But before he could, Malik tapped his knee with his stick, making him stumble.


    "Hey, look at that~! You''re already on it."


    Chicken looked down, only now realizing what he had just done.


    "I-I am! Hehehe, I did it!"


    Malik''s smile widened, and he ruffled the boy''s hair.


    "Well done, kid, now let''s go..."


    The girl looked at their interactions with a bewildered gaze, and as the two walked further in, her lips slowly formed a cute little smile, her tears drying up.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    To everyone spectating, those three already began looking like a sweet orphaned family, one that tried their best even when the times were hard, even when death was knocking on their door.


    It was unexpected and surprisingly beautiful.


    None of them could have guessed that his memories would show such things.


    Those who expected just death and slaughter felt revolted almost.


    They couldn''t believe it, their emotions all over the place.


    Neither could Huda.


    That smile made her cringe.


    She hated it so much.


    And she wasn''t the only one.


    Safira stared at the projection with eyes filled with envy.


    ''He could treat people like that?... Then what about me? I was his only disciple... he should''ve been nicer to me.''


    Her jealousy was hidden, but those who noticed her look of hostility towards Huda would''ve easily picked up on it.


    Fortunately for her, no one did, as they were all fighting their own inner battles, grappling with what they were seeing.


    "Everyone, don''t forget! We''re watching the Villain''s memories!"


    The "hero''s" voice boomed through the king''s hall, snapping everyone''s attention upward.


    In the blink of an eye, he''d flown up to the ceiling, hovering like some kind of smug bird.


    "He''s ended clans, kingdoms, villages, and entire family lineages! He deserves no empathy!"


    Arms spread wide, he spun around slowly, making sure every last person was looking at him.


    "Don''t be shaken!"


    What he was doing was crystal clear; there wasn''t a more obvious way of spelling it out.


    Zafar planned to control the crowd early to gain favor in their hearts while also painting everything as black and white.


    Usually, such an attempt would''ve been laughed at, but as they weren''t in the best of mental states, many thousands in the hall nodded at his words.


    Seeing his plan working, Zafar smiled in delight, though only for a moment, as a man''s entrance had ruined his parade:


    "Lady Roya, we have urgent news!"

 Right Path

    Roya calmly turned to him and nodded, signaling that he could say it out loud.


    "Many hundreds of projections have been seen throughout the planet! They''re all displaying the Sultan''s memories."


    Unsurprisingly, not many reacted to the news, deeming it as something natural.


    After all, if it wasn''t stated enough, one of the Ten Commandments was used.


    Only those who remained on their knees, prostrating every other minute, began to celebrate, smugly thinking that this had proven them to be correct.


    God, the one and only True Sultan, had ''His'' hands in this mess, and they, the lucky ones, had the blessing of being in the presence of ''His'' powers.


    Whatever role ''He'' wished for them, they would fulfill.


    ''He'' was law, and law was ''He.''


    "ALL HAIL!"


    "ALL HAIL!"


    "ALL HAIL!"


    "ALL HAIL!"


    "ALL HAIL!"


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    During the time it took to get those fanatics to quiet down, Malik and the little ones had already gotten inside the crumbling building, finding themselves in a rusty room, where two bunk beds took most of the space, leaving only a meter or so of distance between the door and the beds.


    Sighing in relief that no one else was there, Malik pointed at the cleaner bed, silently asking them to sit there, then sat on the one opposite it, which looked much worse for wear.


    Chicken did as he was told, but the girl had other plans.


    Dropping down from her brother''s back, she wobbled over to Malik and asked:


    "Do you know where Mommy and Daddy are?"


    He shook his head.


    "Nope, no idea, but..."


    Malik leaned forward and lowered his head until it reached the same level as hers.


    "Do you want me to find them for you?"


    "Yes!"


    Her little smile matched Malik''s, and they shared a quick chuckle.


    "Then consider it done; your big brother is the strongest you know~."


    Giggles that alleviated all his tension resounded once more, and he barely stopped himself from picking her up and squishing her chubby cheeks.


    "Big brother is the strongest!"


    "Yeah, I am!"


    Those two acted as if they were their own little world, celebrating what ironically would become the truth.


    But all of a sudden, her face turned quizzical, as if she had just realized something was missing.


    "...What''s your name, big brother?"


    Her large round eyes were locked on his golden ones.


    "I want to know too, big brother!"


    Chicken naturally joined in as well, losing most of the nervousness he showed when he first interacted with him.


    "Malik..."


    He glanced at them both.


    "My name is Malik... my guardian named that."


    "Are they gone too?"


    Raising a brow, he looked back down at the girl, picking her up and sitting her beside him.


    "You''re a smart girl, aren''t you~?"


    She giggled once more, still feeling ticklish from her armpits being touched.


    Malik softly patted her head and closed his eyes.


    "Yeah... he''s gone far, far away."


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    Everyone could see Malik''s trembling brows, realizing the true meaning of his words, but instead of feeling any negative emotion, most of them celebrated:


    "Hahaha! So even the Villain can make faces like that, huh?!"


    "That''s what you get!"


    "Not so strong now!"


    They would''ve gone on and on if they could, but...


    "Shut up!"


    "Quiet."


    "Stand down."


    "Please lower your voice."


    Each of the four "heroines" spoke at once, shutting down those men and women.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.Not even Safira, Devil Maw''s Fairy, the gentlest, could keep quiet about them.


    Only Layla, his ex-wife, could, though barely at that. Because she knew that if she let herself go, all of them would be dead in a few breaths.


    Though she hated Malik to the bone, she wasn''t going to allow nobodies to insult him.


    Zafar, going along with the precedent the woman had already sent, went back on his previous words and admonished them:


    "We are meant to be the righteous ones, so how are..."


    But no one listened, their interest in what was occurring in the projection peaking to new heights.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    "So you want me to give you a name too?"


    "Yes, yes!"


    The little girl bounced on the bed, somehow still filled with energy.


    Malik nodded at her, then locked eyes with the boy.


    "To be honest with you... I wouldn''t have saved you if not for her."


    Chicken''s eyes widened, not understanding why his big brother would reveal something like that.


    "Trust me, if you were two guys, I''d have dipped, leaving you to rot, so be thankful to her, alright?"


    Before he could reply, Malik asked the question that he knew was on his mind.


    "Why am I saying it? Well..."


    He ruffled the little girl''s hair.


    "It''s the context for why I''ll name you Huda... my right path."


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    Boom!


    As if an explosion had occurred, everyone''s minds were blown, even the Lady herself, who seemingly had forgotten the origin of her name.


    This confirmed those who still doubted the projection.


    Huda Al-Sayf was the little sister of a Malik, a beggar.


    "I''m sure nothing major happened to the Al-Sayf family around that time, so how did they end up like this and for this long?"


    "Internal feud maybe."


    "Yeah, typical assassinations most likely."


    People began to make guesses as to why they were there, while others, more specifically, the ones next to Huda, began to comfort her, knowing the internal plight that she was likely going through.


    "You can look at them as different people; I''m sure your brother back then would''ve liked that."


    "Exactly, it''s obvious he cares for you even though you just met; no one would take issue if you kept your name unchanged."


    "Yeah, even if it wasn''t Master Cyrus that named you, I''m sure the elders wouldn''t complain."


    Zafar, the opportunist weasel that he was, joined the train as well.


    He was the first to notice Huda''s hesitation, knowing how bad it''d appear to the public if one of the five leaders of the coalition had defected.


    "They''re right, and while saving you from death deserves great respect, leaving your brother to die, stealing Holy Relics from your parents'' treasury, killing your uncle, the Sultan himself, and massacring half of those under your family''s rule are not blood debts that could be settled, not even in multiple lifetimes."


    She sighed, hesitation draining from her face as she looked back at the projection with hateful eyes.


    "...I get it. Don''t worry; a hateful mob isn''t easy to dissuade."


    Zafar looked away and clicked his tongue, not liking how even she, the one who was supposed to be most naive, picked up on what he was doing.


    ''I''ll kill him myself if I have to!''


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    "So! Now that we''ve made friends and all, how about telling me which family you''re from? I need to know if you ever want to find your parents and go back home."

 Sultan Of The Ten Seas

    Chicken looked at his big brother for a while, then answered:


    "We''re from Al-Sayf."


    Malik tilted his head.


    "...Who?"


    "..."


    The boy repeatedly opened and closed his mouth, not knowing what to say.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    He wasn''t the only one.


    Those watching were in disbelief as well.


    Just what kind of life had he lived that he didn''t know THE family of Sultans?


    A family so great that more than eighty percent of Sultans had come from their lineage.


    And he, Malik, the one who obliterated their rule, ending their streak, didn''t even know of them?


    That was an insult that angered Huda like no other.


    ''MALIK!''


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    "We are very rich!"


    Huda answered in her brother''s stead, and though simple, it was enough for Malik to comprehend what happened to them, or at least form a few guesses.


    "Then it''s safe to assume that your home is very far from here?"


    She nodded repeatedly.


    "Yes, yes! It''s very far and very big!"


    Malik held back a sigh and brought her head closer to him, pecking it with his dry lips.


    "We''re family now, alright? So you need to listen to me at all times."


    "I will!"


    She giggled, squirming around in his embrace.


    Malik softly picked her up, using most of his strength, then sat her down with her brother.


    Stepping back, he looked at them for a moment, and his smile slowly vanished.


    He was already imagining the suffering those two would go through in the upcoming days...


    If he was a betting man, he''d wager they might not even survive tomorrow.


    Chicken, seemingly knowing his big brother''s troubles, embarrassingly reached out his hand and held his.


    Malik''s eyes snapped toward him, remembering their moment at the wooden pathway.


    "...Guess I can''t call you chicken anymore, huh?"


    "Y-Yeah, I''m brave, like you!"


    The kid beamed, puffing out his chest like he''d just conquered the world.


    "Yes, you are... so how about a reward?"


    His smile returned as he pushed them apart and sat in between them.


    "What is it~?"


    "W-What reward?"


    He turned around, yanked the bed sheets from beneath them, making them squeal as they tumbled slightly, and crawled to the far side of the bed.


    Settling in with a satisfied groan, he flopped onto the pillow and patted the empty spot beside him.


    "Come here."


    The invitation didn''t need repeating.


    They practically threw themselves in front of him, giggling as they nestled in beside him without worry of tomorrow.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    Many watching didn''t know if they had to look away or not.


    It was too private of a moment, and to have it displayed to the entire planet surely must''ve felt embarrassing.


    Even if it was back then when she was just a little girl, the event had defined her life.


    And sure enough, as they all expected, Huda''s face competed with the ripest of tomatoes in how red one could be.


    She hid her face behind her dress''s sleeves but to no avail.


    They all could see her.


    Those in her camp tried to relieve those feelings, but all their incessant yapping bore no fruit; she just wanted to get it over with.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    The day had been a total nightmare for those two, and only now, when their bodies completely relaxed, did they begin to feel it, their exhaustion catching up, making them remember things that they had yet to process.


    Their little bodies melted into the bed like it was the first good thing they''d felt in forever.


    Outside, the sky was starting to dim, announcing the arrival of the cold.


    Technically, it was pretty early to knock out, but who was going to complain?


    They sure wouldn''t. Malik wouldn''t either.


    Honestly, being in bed, under a roof, away from the chaos... For a beggar, it didn''t get much better than this.


    Sure, the room turned into an oven during the day when their Shams decided to bake everything in sight, but it still beat being out there begging on the streets.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.And yeah, maybe there was another reason Malik preferred to sleep early, but he wasn''t about to dig up that mess right now; it would''ve only ruined his mood.


    "A bedtime story."


    Malik suddenly announced, breaking the comfortable quiet.


    Both heads snapped toward him, Chicken''s eyes immediately wide with curiosity, while Huda just snuggled closer, her small body radiating warmth against the cooling air.


    "A story about who?"


    Malik sat up slightly.


    "Sinbad."


    He leaned back against the wall, his arms folded behind his head, looking every bit like a storyteller ready to spin a grand tale.


    "Who''s Sinbad?"


    Malik raised an eyebrow at the boy''s question, feigning shock.


    "Who''s Sinbad? Only the greatest sailor to ever sail the Ten Seas!"


    "Ten? All ten seas?"


    "That''s right. Not one, not two, not even three like the boring sailors you hear about. Ten. This guy? He was the emperor of the ocean, the Sultan of the waves."


    Huda, initially unimpressed, perked up at the mention of a Sultan, her head tilting with interest.


    Chicken, meanwhile, was already leaning forward, practically vibrating with eagerness.


    "Once upon a time, in a land far beyond the Shams'' burning gaze, there was a man named Sinbad. He wasn''t born a sailor, no. He was born a merchant, trading silks and spices across the lands. But one day, a storm swept him away, along with his ship and crew, into uncharted waters¡­"


    Chicken gasped, his eyes shimmering with the kind of wonder only children could manage.


    "And what happened?!"


    "Oh, what didn''t happen?"


    Malik grinned.


    "Sinbad faced off against giant sea serpents with scales like diamonds and teeth sharper than the mightiest of swords. He outsmarted cunning sirens who lured sailors to their doom. He even befriended a talking whale who helped him escape an underwater kingdom!"


    Huda was starting to blink slower and slower, her head nodding slightly as sleep began to claim her.


    "But the best part?"


    Malik''s voice rose for dramatic effect.


    "Sinbad didn''t do it for treasure. No, he did it because he loved adventure. Loved the thrill of danger, the feeling of the wind in his hair and the waves beneath his feet. He was fearless, clever, and unstoppable! He might even be comparable to me!"


    Chicken chuckled as his hands balled into fists.


    "And then? What happened at the end?"


    Malik leaned closer, lowering his voice like he was sharing the world''s best-kept secret.


    "At the end... well, there''s no end. Sinbad didn''t stop. He sailed off into the horizon, searching for the eleventh sea. Some say he''s still out there, charting new waters no one''s ever seen."


    Chicken sat back, his mouth hanging open in awe.


    Huda, meanwhile, had completely surrendered to sleep, her tiny snores barely audible.


    Malik smirked, reaching over to pat her head softly.


    "Guess I''ve lost one listener."


    He muttered before turning back to Chicken.


    "So, what do you think, huh? Sound fun?"


    The boy nodded furiously, his excitement bubbling over, looking very much like a deranged chicken.


    "I wanna be like Sinbad!"


    Malik chuckled, ruffling the boy''s hair.


    "Alright, kid. While you''re under my protection, your name''s Sinbad. Forget whatever your old name was. You''re a brave boy now, aren''t you?"


    "Yes!"


    Sinbad¡ªhis new name like a badge of honor¡ªbeamed with pride.


    But after a moment, he tilted his head curiously.


    "I''ve been meaning to ask, big brother... What does Huda mean? You said something about her¡­ right path or something."


    Malik snorted, covering his mouth to stifle a laugh.


    "Don''t tell her this, but I picked it up from some up-and-coming taxi service."


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    The room fell into an almost comical silence as the revelation sank in.


    Malik had named her, the pride of Al-Sayf, after a third-rate taxi service.


    For a moment, nobody dared speak.


    The awkwardness was thick enough to cut with a butter knife.


    Then, all hell broke loose.

 You Lied~

    "H-HE WHAT?!"


    One of her loyal followers screeched, clutching their chest like they''d just been mortally wounded.


    "It''s fine! It''s fine!"


    Another immediately chimed in as they desperately tried to salvage her honor.


    "The meaning is what matters! Guidance! It represents guidance! How beautiful is that?!"


    "SO beautiful!"


    Someone else echoed with a feverish nod, sweat practically dripping down their face.


    "Honestly, who even cares where it came from? It''s symbolic! A divine coincidence, really!"


    "It''s about the intent! The name inspires! It''s a beacon of hope! A star in the endless darkness!"


    The pro-Huda camp clung to these explanations like life rafts, throwing out increasingly grandiose interpretations.


    "A name fit for someone destined to lead! To guide our people to greatness!"


    But their voices were drowned out by the unmistakable sound of snickering.


    Zafar Al-Nadir, the "hero" of this world, showed a smile while watching the image of his supposed friend drown.


    The situation, though bad for their coalition, made him feel better about himself.


    After all, his name was special, for he was Victory, Triumph, and Precious.


    "Huh..."


    His tongue mimicked a slithering snake as he drawled:


    "So the great Villain decides to name our Lady after... a cab company?"


    Though he meant it as a tease, an unfamiliar man joined in and clapped his hands slowly, sarcasm practically dripping from him:


    "Indeed Lord Zafar, it''s truly inspirational. Nothing screams ''nobility'' like a shabby ride through the backstreets of Zawaya."


    "Shut your mouth, Azeem, you, out of all in this hall, have no right to say anything!"


    One of Huda''s people shot back, their face red with fury.


    "Besides, a man like you wouldn''t understand the depth of it!"


    "...Depth?"


    Azeem flipped over his long, braided, ponytailed, black hair that stretched down to his ankles.


    Most of the gold around his neck and forearms rattled by the move, jingling enough to annoy everyone around him.


    "Oh, there''s depth, alright. The depths of a bad joke."


    Huda''s followers and sisters wanted so badly to sock him a new one, but they knew better than to attack him.


    Though he looked like a flamboyant and barely muscular young man, his red, ring-like eyes alone had kept them at bay.


    Moreover, this man was the one who had accompanied Malik throughout his life as the Sultan.


    He was Malik''s right-hand man, the one who oversaw all the death and destruction.


    Many of them believed that he should''ve been there, dead alongside his master, but a fairer few had disagreed, having them delay his execution until later.


    It was only right that he saw Malik killed first; after all, he too was betrayed.


    "What? Cat got your tongue?"


    "Say that one¡ª"


    "Enough!"


    Huda''s voice cut through the chaos like a whip.


    Everyone in her immediate vicinity froze, mimicking the paused world of earlier.


    Her face was beet red, the kind of red that could make even the ripest of tomatoes weep with envy.


    But her expression? Pure exasperation.


    "You''re all embarrassing me."


    She glared at her loyalists first.


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings."Stop twisting it into something it''s not. It''s a name, not a prophecy!"


    She turned her glare on Azeem next, her tone dropping to something far more dangerous.


    "And you¡ªshut up before I shove your slithering tongue down your throat."


    Azeem blinked, his smirk faltering for just a moment before he raised his hands in mock surrender.


    "Fair enough."


    Huda sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.


    "Malik gave me a name. That''s all. And, yes, maybe it''s from a taxi service, but who cares? It''s mine now."


    Her gaze swept across the room, daring anyone to argue.


    "Let''s focus on what matters, alright? Like the fact that he''s about to leave us behind! That''s what I care about¡ªnot some stupid taxi!"


    With that, she crossed her arms and looked back at the projection, clearly done with the conversation.


    The room stayed silent for a beat, everyone too stunned¡ªor too scared¡ªto respond.


    And then someone whispered:


    "Honestly though... it is really beautiful."


    Huda groaned, burying her face in her hands.


    She really needed new followers.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Sinbad''s eyes went wide, and the two of them broke into quiet laughter, trying not to wake Huda.


    "Okay!"


    Sinbad whispered, holding out his pinky.


    "Pinky promise?"


    Malik grinned and held out his own pinky to meet the boy''s, but just before they could seal the deal, he froze.


    His ears caught the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoing outside the room, and his smile dropped instantly.


    "Shhhhh..."


    He whispered, quickly pulling the blanket over them and pushing the two deeper into the bed.


    He held Sinbad close, covering his mouth with a firm but gentle hand.


    The door creaked open.


    "Can''t get, uh, used to place..."


    "Shit''s barely holdin'' on~."


    Three men stumbled in, their gait unsteady and their speech slurred.


    Malik''s stomach twisted as he eyed them.


    Damned drunkards, slave traders¡ªdangerous and desperate ones at that.


    They were on their last legs, clearly out of options.


    "Still smells like piss."


    One of them laughed, kicking a hole through the wooden wall just for fun.


    "Ain''t it just. Hey, where''s the little rat? He owes us."


    Malik sat up slightly, prepared to put his body between the men and the children at a moment''s notice.


    "Already paid my dues for last week; you were supposed to come tomorrow for the next."


    "Oh, yeah?"


    "Yeah, and I ain''t got shit today, so get the fuck out and let me sleep."


    The first man squinted at him, stepping closer.


    "What''s with the blanket, then? Hiding food again?"


    Malik forced a laugh.


    "Learned my lesson last time, didn''t I? No food. Just me trying to stay warm."


    The man stared for a moment longer, then burst into loud, obnoxious laughter.


    "Good, be that way if you don''t want your legs to get fucked up again!"


    The second man joined in, and Malik held his breath, hoping they''d leave.


    But just as they were about to step out, a small sound shattered the tense silence.


    A soft, sleepy grumble.


    Huda was the source.


    ''...Fuck.''


    Malik''s blood ran cold.


    The men froze, their heads snapping back toward him.


    "You lied~."

 Changing Tides

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    Those in the hall were both confused and in disbelief.


    Every man and woman, even the ''named,'' turned to the leader of Al-Sayf, their gazes asking one single question:


    "Do you remember any of this?"


    Huda, who looked the most surprised out of them all, just shook her head slowly.


    She was silent for a beat longer as if processing the memory for the first time, but then she dropped her gaze and muttered:


    "I think... I think I was knocked out the whole time..."


    Admitting that made her wince, like a fresh wound she could feel but didn''t want to touch.


    "The last thing I remember is sleeping on that bed... Then, I woke up in my uncle''s arms... he... he told me that I was abandoned."


    A few of her followers looked like they might explode from frustration.


    "He saved her again?! How is this the first we''re hearing about this?!"


    "Don''t we look like such assholes right now? Killing the one that saved our Lady?"


    "You can''t tell me you''re forgetting what he did... This Villain even massacred some of our families!"


    They looked at the girl, whose eyes were welling up with tears just at the thought of her loved ones, all killed by Malik''s merciless hands.


    "I... we know, but still, you can''t deny that if not for him, then our Lady wouldn''t have been with us today."


    One man scoffed, clearly unimpressed.


    "I can''t believe he brought them there if he knew his roommates were scum! What was he thinking?"


    Another person, one with a brain inside his head, shot back:


    "Shut up, dumbass, you know damn well it was a last-minute decision. And he obviously didn''t think they''d be back here today. Plus, where else could he take them? He was barely surviving himself."


    Huda didn''t say anything to them.


    She stood there, eyes focused on the projection, her thoughts swirling.


    Her posture, once full of pride, anger, and hurt, began to falter as the weight of what Malik had done¡ªnot once, but twice¡ªstarted sinking in.


    The mood in the room was shifting, and it wasn''t going unnoticed.


    Zafar tried to seize that moment and make it his own, raising his voice to drown out the crowd:


    "Everyone! It''s only natural that you feel empathy for his plight. That is a sign of a good person! You are good!"


    The people quieted down, listening to their "hero" speak.


    "But he isn''t! As one of Lady Huda''s attendants put it, the young Sultan could be seen as a wholly different person. You can root for him if you wish, I see no problem in that, but be sure to prepare yourself for what''ll happen later."


    Many nodded their heads at his words, agreeing with most, if not all of what he said.


    And that was to be expected, after all, he took a neutral stance that held out its hands to every opinion.


    "Wise as always my Lord!"


    "I expect nothing less of you, my Lord!"


    "I agree wholeheartedly with you, my Lord!"


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.While his yes-men complimented him none stop, Azeem glanced at Huda and sneakily said:


    "Isn''t it funny? The Devil Sultan''s, the so-called Villain... here, playing guardian to children. Tell me, Lady Huda, how does it feel to know you were in the hands of someone so... benevolent?"


    His words were meant to cut, to provoke, but instead, Huda''s expression softened.


    The harsh lines of hatred that had been etched on her face for so long were starting to blur.


    She couldn''t hold onto the anger anymore.


    Not after everything she had just seen.


    And she wasn''t the only one.


    Those who had only been the victims of his ''evil,'' seeing the Sultan as entirely heartless, were murmuring in disbelief:


    "...Is that really the Villain?"


    "I thought he was a monster. He wasn''t supposed to care, not about anyone."


    Another voice, this one confused to Hell and back, echoed:


    "Yeah, but... after seeing this? He''s not what I thought. He''s... just a kid. A really messed-up kid, but still..."


    Some, unable to let go of their hatred, not even for the kind little boy in front of them, opened their mouths to protest, to dismiss his kindness, but nothing came out.


    No words felt right anymore.


    They''d never thought they''d see Malik like this¡ªprotecting, caring, doing something good for once.


    And as for Zafar? Though he spoke well, he could already feel the cracks forming in his coalition.


    More specifically, Huda.


    Zafar didn''t know what she was thinking anymore.


    He looked at the paused projection and then at her, his smile faltering.


    It was the first time he didn''t have any semblance of control over the narrative.


    The young Malik wasn''t the monster he wanted him to be, he just wasn''t.


    And worse, the world was starting to see him differently, realizing that he was never the devil spawn they made him out to be.


    "Enough..."


    Huda finally said, looking around the room, her voice frustrated to the extreme.


    "I''m done with this. Malik''s actions don''t need explaning. I know what he did for me... for Sinbad. He doesn''t have to be some... hero for it to mean anything."


    Slowly, her gaze shifted back to the projection, and her loyalists, the ones who''d fought and bled for her, fell silent.


    This was new. Uncharted territory.


    Huda had finally acknowledged it.


    The Villian, the one who ruined her life, had also saved it, twice, and likely many times more before she had awoken.


    Even if she didn''t remember it all, she knew it was real.


    She could feel it in her heart.


    And despite the cracks, his later actions, the unforgivable ''evil'' he''d commit, she had to admit something to herself she hadn''t dared before:


    "Maybe... maybe he wasn''t so bad."


    Her whisper seemed to echo in the minds of everyone present.


    Even Zafar, who felt the shift but couldn''t stop it, let out a long breath.


    He wasn''t sure what to make of it, but one thing was clear¡ªtides were changing and he wasn''t confident that he could calm it next time.

 Sweet Dreams

    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    "Probably a rat. Now, FUCK! OFF!"


    Malik gave him the bird and laid back down on the bed.


    His acting was natural and award-worthy, but unfortunately...


    The first of them wasn''t convinced.


    "A rat, huh?"


    His face twisted into a sick grin.


    "Sounded more like... a cute little fuckable mouse."


    Something in Malik snapped.


    "Sinbad."


    He hissed under his breath, eyes locked on the boy''s wide, terrified gaze.


    "Take her. Now. Go."


    Sinbad stared, frozen.


    "NOW!"


    Malik barked, louder this time, his voice enough to jolt Sinbad into action.


    The boy scrambled to his feet, scooping up Huda in a panic.


    She stirred slightly but didn''t wake, her small body limp against his back.


    Malik didn''t wait to see what happened next.


    He lunged for his makeshift cane¡ªa withered stick barely strong enough to support his weight¡ªand gripped it tight.


    The drunkards laughed as he limped towards them, not seeing an inkling of a threat in him.


    "Oh, what''s this? The little rat''s got some fight in him!"


    "Who''re you pokin'' with that?"


    "Better put that stick down before you hurt yourself, boy."


    Their insults came one after the other, intent on breaking him down.


    But Malik wasn''t affected, not in the least.


    "DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"


    His response was a raging scream as he stabbed the stick forward with all his might, aiming for the closest man''s balls.


    "Urghh¡ªFUCK!"


    The impact was solid, a disgusting pop that made the man howl in pain while crumpling him to the floor.


    "Sinbad, RUN! Show me that I wasn''t wrong in naming you after him!"


    Malik''s shout echoed, ensuring that they''d have at least a chance to survive, but thankfully, it was unneeded.


    Sinbad didn''t hesitate this time around.


    He had already opened the window in between the bunk beds and climbed up, now standing outside on the protruding limestone.


    "O-O-Oh..."


    Malik heard a low-sounding whimper but didn''t dare risk a glance.


    The boy was out; that was enough; his job was over.


    Whatever happened to them next rested on him more than it did on Malik.


    That, in one weird way or another, had given him a strange sense of relief.


    "Crippled rat!"


    But Malik''s emotional moment was short-lived.


    The second man charged at him like a bull, aiming to smash him into the ground.


    Malik paused a beat, then stepped to the side and jabbed the stick forward, piercing the soft flesh of his gut.


    "Gah¡ª!


    Doubling over with a wheeze, the man stumbled past him and crashed into the beds, knocking himself down.


    He wasn''t getting back up, at least not for the next ten seconds, but Malik didn''t stop.


    Pivoting on his left, he kicked the man square in the head and continued the movement, slamming his stick into the back of the first man''s neck in the hope of keeping him on the ground.


    Four hits. Four solid hits.


    That was all he could manage.


    "Let''s fucking stop this shit, eh?"


    The final man, their leader, who previously stood back and just watched the fight, had finally interfered, wrenching the stick out of Malik''s hands with a force that nearly dislocated his shoulder.


    "You think you''re tough, huh? Think you''re a little hero?"


    "Shut¡ªah!"


    Malik didn''t get a chance to respond before the first blow landed¡ªa boot to his back that sent him sprawling onto the floor.


    He didn''t see it coming, as it wasn''t the leader who attacked him, but the man with the crushed balls.


    It seemed that the stick wasn''t enough to keep him out of the fight.


    "Ugh!"


    The second kick came fast, then another.


    Malik curled into himself, trying to shield his head and stomach, but the blows kept coming, kicking him around like a game of football.


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings."Should''ve stayed down."


    "Fucking rat!"


    The two he injured were beyond furious, doing their best to inflict the most amount of pain on him, but whatever was left of Malik''s focus wasn''t on them.


    It was on their leader¡ªthe one who''d heard Huda''s grumble, the one who''d taken his stick, the one who''d condemned him to death.


    "This rat gave us more trouble than I expected, the kids almost escaped... Good thing I had backup standing by~."


    Through the haze of pain, Malik heard his words loud and clear, as if it were done on purpose.


    "A little girl... Been a while since I had a pretty little thing like that. Oh, she''s gonna make me feel real goooood."


    What snapped inside Malik had now erupted.


    "YOU SICK BASTARD!"


    His roar was louder than any other before it, and he struggled to stand with all that remained of his strength, ignoring the searing pain.


    "Stay down, you rat!"


    But it was no use.


    One of the men slammed him back down with a kick to his chest, knocking the air out of his lungs.


    "Ugh!"


    Malik wheezed, clutching his sides, and they continued their assault, enjoying each blow.


    His vision blurred, the edges darkening, but he could still hear their laughter, haunting him, taking over his thoughts.


    And soon, the world tilted... the pain dulled, but not because it stopped.


    No. Malik''s body was simply too broken to register it anymore.


    That was when they became bored.


    It was no fun to play with a broken toy.


    "Let''s go; we''ll bury this trash later."


    "Yeah, we need to catch the brats before they fuck up and get devoured."


    Malik barely felt it when they stepped over him, their boots pressing into his bruised ribs as they walked away.


    He lay there, motionless, staring up at the ceiling.


    His mouth hung open, but no sound came out.


    ''They''re going to die.''


    The thought burned in his mind, a cruel truth he couldn''t escape.


    Sinbad. Huda.


    They were going to die.


    His body refused to move, but his mind screamed.


    ''Get up... get up, get up, get up, GET UP!''


    ''GET THE FUCK UP!''


    ''YOU HAVE A PURPOSE NOW! DON''T LOSE IT!''


    ''DON''T FUCKING LOSE IT!''


    ''YOU WASTE OF SPACE!''


    ''YOU HUMAN GARBAGE!''


    ''WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT!''


    ''GET THE FUCK UP!''


    Hot tears streamed down his face, mixing with the blood and grime that covered him.


    ''I hate you¡­ I hate you, I hate you, I hate you! I HATE YOU! I FUCKING HATE YOU! I ALWAYS HAVE!''


    ''You''ve never done anything but fail me!''


    ''Their hopes are pinned on us¡­ ON US!''


    ''You''ve decided to save them... they''re your responsibility, and you... YOU''VE FAILED THEM!''


    ''Failed yourself... again.''


    ''But it''s fine... it''s fine; you can still save them.''


    ''SO GET UP!''


    His fingers twitched.


    ''Just... please...''


    ''Do something.''


    ''Anything.''


    ''...''


    He didn''t move.


    ''...How dare you?''


    ''HOW DARE YOU LIE HERE AND LET THEM GET CHAINED?!''


    ''S-She''s going to get raped...''


    ''Please... for her... do it. Get up.''


    ''GET YOUR WORTHLESS ASS UP OFF THE GROUND!''


    Despite his endless screams, his body didn''t listen.


    It could not.


    This wasn''t a fantasy story... it was real life.


    There was no miraculous surge of strength, no heroic second wind.


    He was a malnourished child that had been beaten black and blue.


    The fact that he had survived this long was already a miracle...


    Expecting more of him was pure idiocy.


    ''No... plea...s...e...''


    Malik''s head lolled to the side and his breathing seized.


    The world around him grew dimmer, his vision slowly devoured.


    And then, there was nothing...


    Nothing but sweet dreams.

 Who Are You?

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    The hall was dead silent, except for the sound of a few hundred younger guild members retching into their hands.


    Those near the projection had it the worst.


    For whatever God-forsaken reason, the Holy Relic transmitted not only his memories but his pain as well.


    Before they could get to a safe distance, where the pain could no longer be felt, many of their minds had become scarred.


    They just couldn''t handle it, even those way at the back.


    Every single person in that hall had been there, with him, and they heard every ounce of his agony.


    All of it.


    Malik''s desperate screams, his furious self-loathing, the pathetic cracks in his voice when his body just wouldn''t move anymore, his desperate fight to get up¡ªthey had witnessed it all.


    The rawness of it. The bitterness. The sheer, unfiltered hopelessness of a man clinging to life by his fingernails only to get kicked down, over and over again.


    It was simply too much.


    And then... everything came to an end.


    Gradual, sure, but to them, it felt sudden.


    Especially Zafar. He expected Malik to gain some sort of ''fortuitous encounter,'' not... not whatever this was.


    A broken boy, beaten to death in a filthy corner of nowhere, dying with nothing but despair and hatred to keep him company.


    No grand sacrifice, no noble end¡ªjust another corpse nobody would care about.


    They didn''t know how to react to that.


    The big bad "Villain." The monster they''d been planning to kill for hundreds of years had died choking on his own blood while thinking of saving kids he met earlier that day.


    Some stared at the ground, refusing to look at the projection any longer.


    A few had tears streaking their faces, ashamed to wipe them away in case someone noticed.


    Others¡ªthose made of colder stuff¡ªlooked pale and uneasy, like they''d just witnessed something they shouldn''t have.


    Maybe they had.


    Even the hardened veterans looked shaken.


    These people were among the strongest of those on Fam Iblis, ones who''d braved the sixth layer of Al-Fawra and seen friends gutted like fish¡ªbut this?


    It hit different.


    Just ugly. Messy. It was a dog''s death, a rat kicked into the gutter, and they''d all watched it unfold, unknowing of how to react.


    "Well, shit..."


    Azeem broke the silence first.


    Of course he did.


    "That''s one way to go."


    He tried to keep his same energy but couldn''t; he sounded... hollow.


    Even he was shaken to the core by all that was on display.


    Layla glared at him, her fists clenched so tightly that blood began to seep.


    Her golden, cat-like eyes glimmered¡ªanger, grief, likely both.


    "Shut your damn mouth."


    Azeem glanced at her.


    "Hm? Oh, I''m sorry. Was I supposed to clap? Or maybe cry a little? Like everyone else here?"


    Huda snapped her gaze to him, furious.


    She took a step forward, moments away from attacking him.


    "You heartless bastard. You watched that and still have the nerve to¡ª"


    "Stop."


    Noor''s voice sliced through the tension like a blade, halting her words.


    She didn''t shout, didn''t need to, especially not with Roya backing her up:


    "Bickering won''t change what we just saw."


    Ever the calculating one, she moved closer to the front of the hall.


    Her hands were clasped tightly in front of her, her usual composed demeanor cracking ever so slightly.


    "What we just saw... is undoubtedly real. It was an ending. His ending. And yet...


    She trailed off, her blue eyes darting to Malik¡ªor whoever the hell was sitting there, trapped in chains.


    "Yeah, and yet, here he is."


    Zafar Al-Nadir''s voice broke through, stealing her thunder.


    "What the hell does that make you?"


    He pointed a finger directly at Malik with all the subtlety of a hammer.


    "You''re supposed to be dead. I saw you die. We all did."


    Malik¡ªor not-Malik¡ªremained on his throne, dying as he was.


    "..."


    If they believed that he could respond, then they were surely mistaken.


    "Dammit!"


    Huda''s fury spilled over as she played back her memories.


    The ones of their reunion.


    Tears brimmed in her eyes, though she refused to let them fall.


    "Was it all a lie? Was everything a lie?!"


    No one answered her murmur; they had nothing to give.


    "You screamed for us... In your last moments, you screamed. Not for yourself, but for us. You cursed yourself. You begged yourself to get up. You¡ª"


    Her voice faltered for the first time, but she quickly steadied it.


    "You weren''t lying then. You weren''t faking that."


    She looked directly at him, her expression nearly broken.


    "So who the hell are you now?"


    Her moment was interrupted by the sharp clink of Noor''s golden goblet as she tapped it against her armrest.


    "Who indeed?"


    She tilted her head, her veil fluttering slightly as she considered the implications.


    "Was that truly Malik? Or is this some convoluted ploy of his? He always did have a taste for theatrics."


    Layla was trembling. Not with fear, but rage.


    She took one step forward after another until she was standing before the projection, glaring at it as though it might bring Malik back to life.


    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there."He wouldn''t... Husband wouldn''t just die like that... He''s the one who caused all of this! He can''t... he CAN''T!"


    "Oh, but he did, Madam Layla~."


    The hall''s tension thickened as Azeem chuckled softly.


    "A shame, really. I would''ve expected MY Sultan to put on a better show."


    "Azeem... please, not now."


    Roya turned to him, eyes threatening quite unsavory actions.


    "If you have nothing of worth to contribute, silence yourself."


    "...Of worth?"


    Azeem smirked, crossing his arms as he looked at the one he used to love.


    "Everything the Sultan did, every scheme, every massacre¡ªevery drop of blood spilled¡ªis why we''re all here now. His death is your ''worth,'' Roya. Don''t act like you''re above it."


    Safira, who had remained quiet until now, finally spoke:


    "You''re all fools... Incredible fools. You think this changes anything?"


    She gestured toward the projection, her hand trembling slightly.


    "You seem to forget... but almost all of you stand here as his executioners. This conversation serves no purpose."


    Noor laughed softly, the sound chilling.


    "Spare us the morality play, dear disciple~. You speak as though you''re untainted by him. Weren''t you the one who stood by his side until you couldn''t bear the weight of his actions like Madam Layla over there?"


    "I betrayed no one!"


    "I didn''t betray him!"


    They both snapped, their once kind voices rising with an intensity that silenced the hall.


    "I..."


    Layla looked at Safira and continued:


    "We left because we had no choice. Unlike the rest of you, we didn''t take up arms against him. We didn''t conspire to kill him. And yet..."


    She paused, taking a deep, shuddering breath.


    "We still mourn him. What about you, Noor? Do you mourn anything at all?"


    "..."


    Layla turned to Huda.


    "And you! You were there, weren''t you? You were with him back then. How could you let this happen?"


    Huda didn''t bother replying, understanding that this was just an emotional outburst.


    Layla wasn''t dumb; everyone knew she didn''t expect anything from a child that young, even if she were royalty.


    "Hahahahahaa!"


    Azeem laughed aloud, never not confrontational.


    "What did you expect her to do, Madam Layla? Pull a miracle out of her ass? Even if she was awake and did try something, the Sultan wouldn''t allow it. He''s the stubbornest bastard alive¡ªah, dead. Doesn''t matter. If he decided he was gonna die saving someone, that was the end of it."


    Huda looked down.


    "...I would''ve done something if I could."


    She defended herself even though she didn''t need to.


    "Hah! Those words sound real funny coming from you."


    Azeem attacked her as well, targeting everyone around him, holding back nothing.


    "Don''t act like you weren''t ready to stab him in the back a second ago."


    "You..."


    The tension in the hall continued to rise, each word exchanged like a drawn weapon waiting to strike.


    Zafar was lost throughout it all, not knowing where to ''strike,'' as supporting one would lose him favor with the other.


    So, instead of doing that, he focused on the present:


    "This isn''t about assigning blame or justifying actions. The Villain''s... or rather Malik''s death is a reality we must face. What matters now is understanding what comes next."


    "What comes next?!"


    Huda''s voice was sharp, her anger finding him the perfect target to lash out at.


    Zafar had failed before he could even begin.


    As he momentarily retreated behind his group of yes-men, Huda took center stage.


    "What comes next is that we find out who dared to impersonate my brother and why!"


    Noor giggled once more.


    "Oh, darling, don''t get ahead of yourself. For all we know, that was your brother, at least a version of him. It wouldn''t make sense for the Holy Relic to show us those memories otherwise. The Sultan we know was always resourceful. What''s a little death to a man like him?"


    Azeem sat on the ground in a lotus position, his usual smirk nowhere to be found.


    "She''s right, but still, this is one hell of a head-scratcher. Either he''s the Sultan, or he''s not. If he is, we''ve got questions. If he''s not, we''ve got even more questions. So how ''bout we let the memories talk instead of yelling at him?"


    The hall fell silent once more, the echoes of their words lingering.


    Malik''s death¡ªor the illusion of it¡ªhad struck a chord none of them wanted to admit.


    Grief lingered at the loss of a truly kind soul, kinder than they ever gave him credit for.


    Anger simmered toward those drunk bastards who''d ended him so cruelly.


    Guilt crept in for the way they, of the ''Heroic Coalition,'' treated people like him, beggars¡ªthe ones they''d always dismissed as less than nothing.


    And then there was suspicion over all that was happening, brewing just beneath the surface, ready to boil over at any second.


    But, above all of that, one thing was painfully certain.


    Whether Malik had truly died or not, even now, his presence loomed over them all, a shadow they could never escape.


    ...If only they knew the truth.


    They would''ve realized that all this farce was for naught.

 Return By Death

    ***


    I died... again.


    It was quite something.


    My ''first death'' certainly wasn''t pretty, but this?


    This one hurt... it hurt bad, at a level I hadn''t imagined possible.


    A part of me knew something like this was coming.


    {The death you''ve endured} was what the Lady Of Time had said.


    That wasn''t a throwaway line.


    Gods didn''t act like that, and whoever sat with ''Her'' at the same table¡ªthe gang of cosmic chess players¡ªdidn''t either.


    It was why they numbed me down so much.


    If they hadn''t, I was sure to have already gone insane by now.


    Reliving, or more accurately, embodying that long moment of death was gut-wrenching.


    Thinking about it alone made me shudder¡ªif I had a body right now, I might''ve even felt it.


    Tears I would''ve shed, and maybe I''d be screaming into the void too, but alas, I''ve abandoned my mortal coil.


    Dead. Nothing but a soul drifting in the void. No body, no voice, no tears.


    Though not for long.


    I felt it¡ªa pull, like a hook yanking me backwards.


    Before I could even process it, the world started rushing back into focus, dragging me with it.


    Or maybe I was being dragged to it.


    Either way, next thing I knew, I wasn''t floating anymore.


    I was slammed back into my body. My dead body.


    Eyes fixed on the ceiling, lungs burning with the memory of breath.


    It didn''t feel right¡ªnot alive, not dead. Just¡­ wrong.


    I tried to move, but nothing, as if something else had taken hold.


    Not my arms, not my legs, not even my fingers.


    Then, my head tilted on its own, wobbling like a marionette.


    At that moment, a sound started¡ªwet, raspy, wrong.


    I would''ve called it breathing, but it was too strenuous and strange.


    Like someone choking on mud.


    ...It was coming from me.


    I didn''t need a mirror to figure it out.


    My chest barely moved, but the sound kept going, close enough to echo in my ears.


    I couldn''t stop it. Couldn''t control it.


    And then it hit me.


    ''I see.''


    That was it.


    That was all I could think.


    Everything clicked into place in one awful, perfect moment.


    I was back. Back in my body. Back where I''d died.


    Back in a world that had already moved on. And I couldn''t stop smiling.


    Because I knew exactly what was waiting for me.


    Hell.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    The projection flickered, the image stuttering for a moment as if it was struggling to hold itself together.


    And then¡ªjust like that¡ªthe world blinked.


    It did so hard, like a bad cut in some cheap indie movie.


    Everyone just stood there, frozen, watching in shock as Malik''s memories rewound.


    First, his head jerked back up, then he started breathing¡ªlike it was the most unnatural thing in the world.


    After a few heart-stopping moments, he flew to one of the guy''s legs.


    There was no mistaking it.


    The world was turning back in time.


    "What the fuck?"


    Azeem muttered, scrambling to his feet.


    His cocky smirk was gone now, replaced by wide eyes and furrowed brows.


    "Did anyone else just feel like their brain got drop-kicked?"


    The projection fast-forwarded through his suffering, stopping just when Sinbad held out his pinky finger.


    A moment after, and there it was, the catch for whatever power he seemed to have.


    A flicker. It was faint, so faint they almost missed it.


    Just a shadow, rippling across Malik like dark ink spilling into water.


    It was suffocating, like something was creeping in, threatening to swallow him whole.


    The whole room sucked in a breath.


    "Oh, fuck no!"


    Azeem blurted out, pointing at the screen like it owed him an explanation.


    "Tell me someone else saw that shit!"


    "We all saw it, you idiot."


    Noor answered her usual amusement nowhere to be found.


    Huda took a step forward, her breathing uneven.


    "This... this can''t be true. It can''t be."


    Zafar wiped away the sweat forming on his face.


    "Wait. No. No way, you guys aren''t thinking this is what actually happened, right?"


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.They collectively ignored his murmurs, though not on purpose, as everyone in the hall was busy racking their brains about what they had just seen.


    Time reversal was impossible. That was a fact. Everyone believed it.


    But what they''d just seen? That shattered everything they thought they knew.


    "He didn''t."


    "He couldn''t."


    "He can''t."


    But he did.


    "Is this... the future?"


    "A prophetic memory?"


    "A goddamn d¨¦j¨¤ vu?"


    "...No, it''s not. There''s no denying it; we see his present... This actually happened."


    "It did."


    Noor agreed with whoever had explained, her voice obviously agitated.


    "This''s something far worse than that."


    Layla''s fists clenched, the faint tremor in her hands betraying her nerves.


    "You don''t mean... You can''t mean..."


    "Oh, but I can."


    "Lady Noor''s right."


    Azeem breathed, his voice hushed like he was afraid to say it too loud.


    "The Sultan can go back in time... He can return by death."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    Silence slammed into the room like a thunderclap, broken only by Roya''s whisper:


    "That''s how... That''s how he won. That''s how he became the most dominant Sultan in history."


    "It''s..."


    Safira hesitated, swallowing down her words, but Layla spoke for her, knowing exactly what she was going to say:


    "It''s impossible. No one can... no one can do that. Not even Malik."


    Huda nodded her head in a stutter.


    "Y-Yeah, not even one of the Ten Commandments can play with time... This is something else. As Noor said, it''s something... worse."


    "Worse?"


    Azeem laughed, though it was bitter, really bitter, as if he was the one most wounded by this secret.


    "That''s not even the half of it. The implications of this aren''t something we can predict... especially whatever that shadow was. Clearly, we didn''t know the Sultan as well as we thought."


    "...But it does explain everything."


    Noor''s voice had turned cold.


    "What?"


    Zafar demanded, turning to her.


    "What the fuck does it explain?"


    She met his gaze, her eyes piercing through the veil.


    "How he always seemed to be ten steps ahead of us, no matter what we did..."


    "I-Is that why he changed so much?"


    Huda stared at the Malik sitting in that projection, the one looking at Sinbad like a father would a son.


    She now knew that he wasn''t the man they''d watched die earlier.


    He was someone else entirely... a man who knew death.


    ''Am I the one at fault?''


    She wanted so badly to ask that question, but she couldn''t get it out, leaving her eyes to do so for her.


    But unfortunately, she wasn''t going to get an answer.


    Never.


    She had already condemned her brother to death.


    Layla looked down, her face blank.


    "It is exactly why. He didn''t just grow into it. He... he died... he built himself. Over and over again."


    Noor giggled darkly, glancing at Huda.


    "And now we''re finally seeing the building blocks."


    Zafar dragged a hand down his face, feeling great envy.


    ''So, not only was he the Sultan, he was the goddamn cheat code.''


    If he thought logically about it even for a second, he wouldn''t have come up with such a hypocritical thought, but it was to be expected from the "hero."


    "Dying''s a minor inconvenience when you can just... undo it, isn''t it?"


    Noor said with a smile, though her hands trembled as they rested on her floating throne.


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    Nobody dared to respond.


    Whether to admonish her or support her.


    They didn''t have to.


    The implications were burning themselves into their brains fast enough.


    It all made sense now.


    Every impossible victory, every uncanny shift in his strategies, every time it seemed like Malik had just known exactly what was coming.


    Because he had.


    The Sultan, who had ruled with an iron fist, who had orchestrated rebellion and bloodshed, hadn''t just been a Magi.


    He''d been something else.


    Something that took the whole planet to unite just to stop him.

 Into The Abyss

    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    One moment, Malik was staring at the ceiling, broken, bloodied, and dead.


    The next, he was back on the bed, Sinbad in front of him, pinky raised with that same hopeful look in his eyes.


    Malik froze.


    His mind felt like it had been flipped upside down.


    What the hell just happened? Was he dead? Dreaming? Had he finally lost his damn mind?


    But his body didn''t wait for his brain to catch up.


    It moved on its own, driven by some primal instinct.


    He lunged forward, wrapped his arms around Sinbad, and pulled him close.


    "Step out the window. Now."


    His voice trembled.


    "Please... please just do it."


    Sinbad looked up at him, wide-eyed and confused, but the desperation in Malik''s tone left no room for questions.


    Slowly, the boy nodded and turned toward the window.


    The frame was already loose, so they easily pushed it open.


    Sinbad carefully climbed onto the sill, clutching it with one hand as he balanced Huda on his back.


    He was halfway out when¡ª


    ''Dammit.''


    The door slammed open.


    "I KNEW IT!"


    Malik''s heart dropped.


    "You''ve been hiding something, haven''t you, boy?"


    The leader of the three men stood there, a cruel grin spreading across his face as his bloodshot eyes locked onto the two little ones.


    "Thought you could keep them all to yourself?"


    Malik didn''t give him time for another word.


    He grabbed his stick¡ªthe same useless, withering thing¡ªand stabbed it forward with everything he had.


    The wood crushed the man''s throat, sending him stumbling back into his companions.


    "RUN!"


    Malik shouted, but he didn''t need to; Sinbad was already outside.


    Smiling softly, he didn''t wait for the dazed men to recover and bolted through the doorway, shoving past them.


    His bare feet pounded against the wooden floor as he raced down the hallway, making the building groan around him.


    As he reached the bottom of the stairs, the receptionist at the desk glanced up, her face as blank as always.


    "Help¡ª"


    Malik started, but he stopped himself.


    She didn''t care. Of course, she didn''t care.


    The woman didn''t even flinch as he rushed past her and shoulder-slammed the front door open with a loud crash, the brittle hinges giving way instantly.


    "Sinbad!"


    He screamed, spinning to face the first floor of the building where the boy stood.


    Sinbad was hugging the wall with one hand while holding Huda to his back with the other, his feet barely balanced on the protruding limestone.


    "Drop her! NOW!"


    Sinbad hesitated for a moment before doing as he was told and letting go.


    Huda''s limp body tumbled down, and Malik surged forward, catching her awkwardly in his arms as he fell backward onto the dusty ground.


    Pain shot through him, but he didn''t care.


    He clutched the girl close and scrambled to his feet.


    "Sinbad! You''re next!"


    But the boy froze.


    His small hands gripped the wall even harder, his eyes darting between Malik and the window to his left.


    "Come on! There''s no time!"


    Malik yelled again, but Sinbad didn''t move... again.


    His legs trembled every time he put any strength in them, halting his attempts before they could even start.


    "The boy''s still up here!"


    Just then, the thinnest of the three men kicked the window open and climbed up while the other two arrived outside.


    "Get him!"


    Malik glanced at the terrified Sinbad, who was now inching along the limestone in a panic, slipping with every other step.


    That look¡ªthough short¡ªfelt like an eternity.


    "...I-I''m sorry."


    Then, gritting his teeth, he forced himself to look away and ran.


    There was no other choice.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    The hall broke out in chaos.


    "No. No way. NO WAY!"


    Huda''s voice cracked, shrill like glass shattering.


    "He LEFT him?! He ACTUALLY left him?!"


    Her words hung in the air, and no one could respond fast enough.


    No one except Azeem.


    "Whew. That''s cold, even for the Sultan... guess now we know how you survived, my Lady."


    "Shut UP!"


    Huda snapped, spinning to him with fire in her eyes.


    "You think this is funny? That was my BROTHER! You saw the way he looked at Malik! He trusted him; he believed in him, and Malik just¡ªjust¡ª"


    Azeem raised an eyebrow.


    "Ah? Don''t shoot the messenger now, would you? It''s against the law~."


    Ignoring him, Huda''s eyes returned to the momentarily frozen projection, her jaw clenched so tight it was a miracle she hadn''t cracked a tooth.


    "I told you. I told all of you... I''m not wrong... I-Im not doing anything wrong..."


    She couldn''t finish that sentence as tears began to spill.


    It was a heartbreaking sight, and it melted many hearts within the crowd.


    But one of them wasn''t buying it.


    "Don''t... just don''t."


    Safira was the one.


    Everyone turned to her, who had mostly been silent throughout.


    Her usually kind expression was gone, replaced by obvious anger.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report."Don''t pity yourself, and please don''t pretend you''re any better. Especially you, Huda... You''ve received something none of us have."


    Her eyes dropped, her smile sad, almost painful.


    "You don''t know what it''s like to be..."


    She trailed off, shaking her head, but then her gaze went back to Huda, anger returning.


    "None of us know what he was thinking, what he was feeling in that moment. And I''m sure, if we were in his shoes, most of us¡ªif not all¡ªwould''ve done the same, or worse. Much worse. So don''t you dare judge him like you''re saints."


    "Safira¡ª"


    "No."


    She raised her voice.


    "You think you know him? You don''t. None of us do. Azeem is right, and I''m sure everyone here has realized this by now. So stop acting like you''ve got all the answers."


    Safira''s gaze returned to the projection, and it resumed, almost as if it had decided their reactions were over.


    "Just watch."


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik''s legs were barely holding him up as they were, and every step felt like a punch to his knees.


    Carrying Huda in his arms didn''t help¡ªshe was light, sure, but right now, she might as well have been a boulder strapped to his chest.


    His pace was more of a desperate shuffle than an actual run, but he pushed forward.


    Yet it was all for naught.


    In front of him, the only path out of here, stood a man.


    Malik didn''t need to be told.


    That man was with them.


    He was the "backup;" he wouldn''t have been here at this time otherwise.


    Thud-thud-thud!


    Behind Malik, the sound of heavy boots slamming against the ground grew louder.


    They had almost caught up.


    Malik was trapped.


    He looked at Huda, somehow still sleeping in his arms, then at the platform extended over the abyss to his right.


    It didn''t take him long to make a decision.


    ''Better dead than a slave.''


    Malik shot forth, running faster than he ever did as the wooden floor creaked under his weight, every step threatening to send him plummeting into the darkness below.


    He stopped just a step or two before the cliff, where the wood dangled down, about to fall.


    "Wait!"


    The leader of the men shouted.


    "Kid, don''t be stupid! You don''t wanna die, do you?!"


    Malik inched further back.


    "I don''t, but what choice do I have?!"


    The man continued, his tone turning desperate:


    "Better a slave than dead kid!"


    "No!"


    "Listen, just listen, yeah? We leave the boy alone; just give us the girl! We can share the profits! I might even think about not tasting her¡ª"


    Malik took a whole step back, reaching the edge, his golden eyes blazing with rage.


    "SHUT UP! IF YOU DON''T, I SWEAR I''LL DROP HER RIGHT NOW!"


    It was a look that brought shivers down the man''s spine.


    "O-Okay! Just calm down! I''ll stay quiet, alright?"


    The men slowly and quietly tried to get closer to Malik, moving like crabs a few meters ahead of him.


    Their eyes constantly darted into the void, unable to resist its terrifying pull.


    Malik didn''t react, not feeling the least bit threatened by them.


    It was a scene that mirrored their first interaction, only now that instead of Malik being the threat, it was the platform beneath him, its edges splintering with each second that passed.


    "Sinbad!"


    Malik called out, his voice echoing across the chasm.


    The boy was still on the protruding limestone, though on the left side of the building instead of the right, just above the devouring abyss.


    It seemed that he and his pursuer had managed to do a full lap around the building.


    "Do you trust me?!"


    Malik had left him for dead seconds ago; one wouldn''t expect anything but a "n-n-no," as a reply.


    "Y-Y-Yes!"


    But it was Sinbad; though they had just met, he grew to love his big brother quite a lot.


    Enough that forgiveness came easy¡ªHell, this didn''t even feel like a betrayal to him.


    His big brother''s actions had been to save Huda, his sister, and Sinbad couldn''t hold that against him.


    If anything, it made him respect the guy even more.


    "You agreed when I said you''d do whatever I told you, right?!"


    Sinbad nodded furiously, tears streaming down his face.


    "Then jump!"


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    For a moment, there was only silence.


    Malik leaned back, his body teetering over the abyss.


    He stared at Sinbad, his eyes filled with something the boy couldn''t quite place.


    And then he fell.


    The darkness swallowed him whole.


    "NO!"


    Sinbad screamed, his hand shooting out like he could pull him back.


    But, a moment later, he quietened.


    Though the sight of them falling gave him incredible shock, it also quelled any hesitation left within him¡ªlike a switch had been flipped.


    He was no longer afraid.


    He trusted Malik.


    He always would.


    Squeezing his eyes shut, he took a deep breath and pushed himself off the wall.


    "You idiots!"


    "Fucking dumbasses!"


    "NOOOOO! MY GODDAMN MONEY!"


    The last thing they heard was the men''s furious curses fading into the distance as they plummeted into Al-Fawra, the maw of the devil.

 Al-Fawra

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    The hall went quiet, quieter than it''d ever been.


    And in that silence? There was a mess of disbelief, shock, relief, and... something else.


    Something no one could really put into words.


    Well, almost no one.


    Because, sticking to his usual trend, Azeem found it pretty damn easy:


    "Guess the Sultan ain''t all bad after all."


    A collective sigh escaped the crowd, and the tension eased, but only a little.


    Malik had saved the kids, sure, but all he''d done was drag them into even more danger.


    Normally, they''d just write off anyone in their situation as good as dead, but now?


    They couldn''t. Not when they were right in front of them, alive.


    Well, one was, at least.


    Either way, nobody had a clue what was coming next¡ªnot even Huda, the one who''d actually lived through it.


    Whatever was about to go down was bound to be way worse than anything they could''ve dreamed up¡ªand probably a lot more disturbing too.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    "Ten..."


    Malik held on to Huda with all the strength he could muster, his arm digging her body into his chest.


    His eyes stayed locked upward, his back taking the full force of the wind and that swirling Aether energy¡ªor whatever it was called¡ªwhipping around them as they plummeted through the air.


    "Nine..."


    What the hell did he know about Al-Fawra? Nothing. Nada. Zilch.


    He was a beggar, not one of those map-carrying Seekers.


    "Eight..."


    Still, even a guy like him picked up scraps of info here and there, though it was mostly from his... guardian.


    "Seven..."


    That old man had hammered this stuff into Malik''s head like his life depended on it¡ªwhich, surprise, it actually did.


    "You''ll thank me one day, kid. Probably when you''re about to die."


    And here he was. About to die.


    ''Guess you did one thing right, pops.''


    Malik showed a soft smile and continued the countdown:


    "Six..."


    His voice barely rose above the roar of the wind, and it wasn''t only because he was tearing through it but also because of the Devil''s Maw itself.


    Al-Fawra¡ªyeah, it devoured all, but it also pushed out the remains, an abyss surging with Aether like a living, breathing thing.


    If that was all it did, Malik and the others wouldn''t have made such a big deal about dropping in.


    But, of course, this was just the warm-up. A little teaser before the real nightmare began.


    "Five..."


    This abyss wasn''t just any hole. It sat smack in the middle of their planet¡ªa pit so deep, people swore it punched right down to the planet''s core.


    It was like a hellish layer cake, each "slice" deeper and deadlier than the last.


    "Four..."


    First layer? A hundred meters down. Second? A kilometer. Third? Ten. And it just kept escalating, numbers climbing as the depths dropped.


    "Three..."


    The planet wasn''t just big; it was massive. Twelve moons circled the damn thing, and its gravity could crush most people visiting from the outside.


    "Two..."


    So how was it that Malik was still falling? The definition of ''meter'' didn''t change, did it?


    "One..."


    No, it didn''t, and if his countdown indicated anything, it was that certain laws of physics were messed up around here, most certainly due to that Aether.


    "...Now."


    With a deep breath, Malik clamped Huda even tighter against his chest.


    Then it hit.


    "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


    A raw, guttural scream ripped from his throat as pain exploded across his back.


    Thin lines of Aether carved through his skin like a whip, shredding his already ruined robes into pieces.


    His blood splattered and streamed above him, carried by the turbulent wind.


    Malik bit down on his lip hard enough to taste copper, cutting the scream short as he twisted midair to face the ground.


    They had finally entered the first layer''s atmosphere.


    Now, it was no longer dark, swapped out for a green forest stretching forever.


    Many thick canopies swayed gently below, surrounded by hills of grass and jagged rocks, all next to a wide river, illuminated by a lighthouse that neared the darkness above.


    It was beautiful.


    But Malik wasn''t in the mood to admire the view.


    He had way bigger problems.


    "SINBAD!"


    Malik angled himself forward, like a hawk diving towards its prey, inching his body closer to the free-falling boy.


    And Sinbad? His arms flapped uselessly, making him spin like a falling plane with a broken wing.


    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source."You fucking kidding me?!"


    No, he wasn''t.


    The kid appeared to be out cold, even though no injuries could be seen on his body.


    Their entry into the first layer must''ve knocked him out.


    "C''MON! Don''t make me work harder than I already am!"


    Though he was moving as straight as one could in his situation, Malik''s mind was spinning.


    Every second of his fall made him lose even more hope that they''d survive.


    He needed to save the kid. He had to. But he saw no way to do so.


    Malik could either head for the river without him or try to catch him and die alongside him.


    Yesterday, he would''ve picked the former, but after he had already abandoned him once? Never.


    "I''m not doing it again!"


    But, just as he was about to angle himself further down, something strange happened.


    His whole body slowed, like he''d just hit some thick, invisible viscous liquid.


    He felt himself pushing through it, fighting against the drag¡ªuntil, out of nowhere, before he could even react, it shot him out like a bullet.


    "Whoa!"


    Malik barely managed to snag Huda as she slipped out of his grip for a split second, his heart damn near leaping out of his throat.


    Pulling her back in close, he glanced below and noticed something.


    He was much closer to Sinbad now.


    A small smile crept onto his face.


    "It''s possible."


    It felt like someone had just opened a new door in his mind.


    And in that split second of clarity, Malik knew what to do.


    Though he didn''t know exactly what they were, he could guess they had something to do with Aether.


    More importantly, he knew they made him fast.


    Fast enough for him to catch Sinbad and reach the river without sacrifice.


    Those floating pockets would be his vehicle to victory!


    "Alright, let''s see if I can find another."


    Instincts took over, the same ones that had carried him through a lifetime of begging, scrapping, and surviving.


    Malik''s eyes darted around, scanning for those near-invisible pockets of Aether.


    There¡ªjust at the edge of his vision.


    ''Found you.''


    No time to overthink. He dove again.


    This time, he didn''t just fall through it; no, he adjusted midair just before impact, angling himself to a fair distance below Sinbad.


    A faint pulse rippled behind him, and then¡ªboom¡ªhe was shot forward, streaking like a comet through the air.


    "Ahahahahahaha!"


    It was working!


    He was getting closer, Sinbad''s limp body finally in his direct line of sight.


    Malik felt like a tattered kite being whipped around in the wind, but he didn''t care.


    He needed one more... just one.


    "Come on, come on!"


    The ground was rushing up fast, and his frantic eyes caught nothing...


    Nothing except one lone pocket hovering just above a few trees.


    Malik knew exactly what he had to do.


    Angling himself like a falling arrow, he dove even harder toward the ground, closing the distance in seconds.


    When he was just a meter or so above the tree, his eyes locked on the pocket.


    Then, at the last possible moment, he leaned left, lining himself up with Sinbad''s trajectory once more.


    Malik pierced through the pocket, stretching it like it was nothing, and shot out, way faster than any before it.


    "I''ve got you!"


    Reaching Sinbad at the last possible second, he caught him with his left arm, crushing the boy to his chest alongside his sister.


    "Now what?!"


    Malik shouted, his voice hoarse and desperate.


    They were going against gravity, flying up, way higher than he wanted to be.


    It should''ve been a blessing, his one chance at survival, but no.


    Unfortunately, the river was more than ten meters away, and there was no pocket around them, at least none they could reach.


    It was hopeless.


    But even with everything looking like a lost cause, he wasn''t ready to give up.


    He couldn''t, not when he held responsibility for these kids'' lives.


    "At least I''ll save you..."


    Malik held them tight, and then, using the momentum of his fall, he twisted his body, making him spin.


    With every ounce of energy that he had left in him, he threw them forward.


    "HA!"


    And there they went, into another pocket, one that would hopefully send them to the river.


    To safety.


    Looking down, he managed a tired chuckle, barely able to keep his eyes open...


    ''Let''s see if I have a next time.''


    And then¡ªsplat!


    The world went black.

 How Many Times?

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    The hall had not heard a single word since the projection last resumed, and this silence persisted even after it paused, giving the crowd a long moment to breathe, a reprieve from the repeated whiplash they had been experiencing.


    This time around, the silence wasn''t quite as heavy.


    Everyone was still processing what happened, replaying what they''d just seen in their heads, trying to make sense of it.


    Malik had nearly done something impossible, and yet, it was something they expected of him.


    It wasn''t just the act itself, though, that left them stunned.


    The way Malik¡ªa kid with no real clue about the wider world¡ªmanaged to adapt to a completely new environment on the fly. It was incredible. Almost inhuman.


    And yet, even with all that, it still hadn''t been enough.


    His life had slipped just out of reach, like a cruel joke.


    Not that it mattered much. His goal was misplaced from the start.


    The river?


    Yeah, not exactly the safest option.


    Huda knew that better than anyone.


    As Malik''s memories played out in front of her, she found herself stepping closer to the projection, almost like she was trying to climb inside it. Trying to feel what he felt at that time.


    It was twisted¡ªa messed-up way to atone for the helplessness she couldn''t shake.


    Sure, Malik would eventually become the one to destroy everything she cared for, but that didn''t matter right now. Not to her.


    Right now, Huda needed to do this.


    If she didn''t, she wasn''t sure she''d ever forgive herself.


    "Ugh..."


    And as she stood there, the pain he felt crashed into her like a rampaging draft monster, forcing her to kneel.


    Alongside that pain came an obvious realization.


    Malik hadn''t saved them; no, he had thrown them straight into a Dandan''s mouth.


    But she didn''t blame him. How could she?


    He didn''t know. He couldn''t have known.


    Regardless, her thoughts weren''t on the river, her brother, or herself anymore.


    They were stuck on him¡ªon Malik, slamming into the ground, body broken, life snuffed out in an instant.


    She looked down and her face went pale.


    Her eyes widened, and her mind kept reliving that sickening fall over and over again.


    The bitter taste in her mouth from earlier wouldn''t go away; rather, it only increased in intensity.


    Her throat felt like sandpaper, too dry to swallow, too tight to breathe.


    She could barely stop herself from breaking down then and there.


    And she wasn''t the only one.


    "That... that was insane."


    Azeem muttered, his eyes wide with something close to awe.


    "I thought he was gonna save them for sure."


    For a moment, there was nothing but that¡ªexpectation.


    Because Malik? The Sultan they knew? He always found a way. Always. Like some unstoppable force of nature barreling through every roadblock.


    And now, even with all the answers staring them in the face, even knowing the why behind it all, their brains just couldn''t reconcile it. It didn''t fit.


    It felt like a lie.


    All of it was just so different from what they thought to be the truth.


    "...Not now... please."


    Layla couldn''t take it anymore.


    With a shaky exhale, she dropped to the ground like her legs had given out.


    "He... He was so close. So damn close..."


    She shook her head, looking at the projection as if hoping the scene would change by her sheer willpower alone.


    But no.


    The screen was frozen right there, right on the aftermath.


    On the crater where Malik''s body had hit the earth like a meteor, dust still settling.


    A cold, hard truth. One she couldn''t argue with.


    One that sat like a weight on her, on all of them.


    And though she knew it wasn''t fair, she couldn''t stop herself from hoping.


    Hoping that next time, maybe¡ªjust maybe¡ªher husband wouldn''t leave Sinbad behind.


    That he''d find a way to save them both, no matter the cost.


    Not for the sake of Sinbad; she didn''t give two shits about him, but for Malik''s sanity.


    His descent into madness was on the horizon, ready to pull him under.


    But for now? Just for a little longer?


    She wanted to catch those glimpses of her Malik¡ªher husband.


    The glimpses hiding deep within him, the rare few that made her fall in obsessive love.


    ''...One more time... just one more.''


    That was all she was asking for.


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.***


    {Inside The Projection}


    The world blinked.


    "Haa..."


    Malik let out a breath and his eyes dimmed as if he had confirmed something... bad?


    Shaking his head, he let those thoughts go for later and began to count down again:


    "Ten... Nine... Eight... Seven... Six..."


    No more hesitation. He sucked in a sharp breath and prepared himself for entry.


    ''Five... Four... Three...''


    Malik didn''t even finish counting this time, opting to curl into himself instead.


    His face showed fear, not only at the incredible pain he was about to experience but also for the impossible he had to achieve.


    Then...


    "AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH¡ª!"


    His scream resounded once more as his back was torn and bloodied.


    He pulled Huda even closer, practically squeezing the life out of her as he turned around and snapped his body into position, aiming straight for the nearest Aether pocket.


    Like clockwork, he was tossed around from one to another, flying through the air.


    He didn''t have the luxury of enjoying the ride; each twist of his body made him want to puke.


    Fortunately, there was nothing to puke, so he was fine in that regard.


    Each burst of Aether slapped him around in a different way, even though he went at them with the same speed.


    Some pockets were like being launched out of a cannon; others dragged him down, almost suffocating him in their pull. A few had sent him soaring up, while most slammed him close to the ground.


    But every time, no matter the result, he got closer.


    Closer to Sinbad.


    Closer to not screwing this up.


    And it wasn''t long before...


    "SINBAD!"


    Malik shot out, arm outstretched, muscles on fire, fingers just grazing the back of Sinbad''s shirt before yanking him in close.


    The boy was limp, completely dead weight¡ªbut alive.


    That was all that mattered.


    ''...Now the last one.''


    Quickly scanning his surroundings, he found a pocket not so far away from the water, hung a fair distance below.


    Adorning his earlier posture, he tracked it like a hawk, angling his body just right.


    He, with sheer instinct alone, had calculated it, calculated everything, down to the millimeter.


    Bracing himself, Malik threw everything he had into the dive, piercing straight into the pocket.


    Then¡ªboom¡ªit hit him like a ton of bricks¡ªhis body flying forward, straight to the river.


    The water was coming up fast¡ªway too fast.


    "Shit!"


    But Malik didn''t panic.


    With every ounce of his strength, he twisted, using the momentum to steer them along the flow, hoping to lessen the impact.


    Closer.


    Closer.


    SPLASH!


    They hit the water hard.


    It felt like slamming into a wall made of mercury.


    The air was knocked right out of him, and for a split second, he thought his chest was going to cave in.


    But then, the river took them in, swallowing the fall with a bone-shaking crash that sent exploding ripples all across the river''s surface.


    They sank. They survived. Finally... right?


    Wrong.


    Before Malik could even think about celebrating...


    ''...N-No.''


    A shadow passed overhead, and his blood ran cold.


    He craned his neck, squinting through the water.


    Something was moving above him. Big. Fast. Moving like a hunter would before a prey.


    The shadow circled back, and it didn''t take long for its shape to become clear¡ªa massive body slicing through the water like it was its home, its territory.


    Rows of jagged teeth glinted in its huge mouth.


    ''Oh, come on, as if I haven''t had enough!''


    The beast didn''t care about his complaints.


    It was closing in, moving with the kind of speed that would''ve made anyone give up.


    But not Malik.


    He kicked hard, trying to propel himself and the kids out of the way.


    His muscles screamed, his lungs burned, and yet, his efforts were worthless.


    The shark-like creature had reached them, its jaws opening wide enough to swallow them whole.


    Malik barely had time to twist his body, throwing Sinbad and Huda away while pushing himself to its mouth.


    ''I''ll¡ª''


    Its mouth snapped shut around them before he could even form his final thought.


    His world vanished in a blur of water and crushing darkness.


    Then¡ªnothing.


    No dreams, just death.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "...Just how many times is he going to die?"

 Lost Essence

    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    "Ten... Nine... Eight... Seven... Six..."


    A countdown echoed in his mind, one that he grew too familiar with.


    "Five... Four... Three... Two¡ª"


    Like before, Malik didn''t finish and sucked in a sharp breath, biting down hard, refusing to make a sound.


    But unlike last time, he had succeeded.


    He didn''t offer a scream to the first layer''s warm welcome, not even a whimper.


    Malik took it all, every ounce of pain and pressure¡ªhis eyes blown wide, staring at absolutely nothing.


    Then, just like that, he flipped midair and faced the endless green below, repeating the cycle.


    And right on cue, there he was¡ªSinbad, flailing around.


    In what felt like a blink, the kid was back in his arms, deadweight as usual.


    ''Third time''s the charm, right?''


    He would''ve liked that to be the truth, but he knew¡ª


    ''No... focus!''


    Shaking his head, he ignored his hammering heart and his ragged breath, trying to think, calculate, and come up with a way to survive.


    The river was a no-go; even the shallower parts of it had monsters that could devour them with ease.


    Landing on the ground was the only way out of this mess, his only option.


    But the real question was... how?


    Just how could he go about pulling it off?


    Well, there was only one way to figure that out¡ªtrial and error.


    Dying. A whole lot of dying.


    Right, his life was officially a tool now.


    It had lost its essence, becoming a means to an end.


    Surprisingly enough, that thought didn''t bother him as much as it probably should''ve.


    Perhaps it was because he was using it for good, to save someone other than himself.


    Or perhaps his brain just didn''t have the time to fully unpack the horror of what that actually meant.


    If Malik was asked, he''d surely claim both.


    Because... all the heavy implications? Yeah, that was flying way over his head right now.


    None of it mattered to him.


    Why bother sweating the details when the only thing that was crystal clear was this:


    His deaths? Oh, they were going to be ugly. Real ugly.


    Now, he had to figure out something¡ªanything¡ªto soften the landing or at least slow him down when he got close to the ground.


    His first ''genius'' idea? Spot an Aether pocket just above the surface, use it to shoot himself up a bit, and then drop down.


    Not exactly graceful and quite a bit harsher than he would''ve liked, but hey, desperate times, right?


    So, he went for it.


    Or, well... tried to.


    Turns out, there weren''t any Aether pockets close to the ground.


    "Fuck me..."


    SPLAT!


    Malik died.


    Blink.


    The fourth attempt actually started off kind of promising.


    Malik found a pocket near the ground.


    Progress?


    No, unfortunately...


    "AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


    His scream tore through the air as the pocket blasted him out, his arms barely holding onto the kids for dear life.


    The impact felt like getting hit with a truckload of TNT all going off at once.


    His teeth rattled so hard it was a mystery how he didn''t bite clean through his tongue.


    "Fuuuuuuuuuuu¡ª!"


    He was sent spinning¡ªwildly, uncontrollably¡ªrocketing high into the air.


    Way too high for whatever half-baked plan he''d cooked up to even consider working.


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.Rather, he quickly realized that there was no chance he''d survive the landing.


    His vision blurred, the edges darkening like someone dimmed the lights.


    ''Fuck...''


    Everything went black for half a second.


    ''...Not again.''


    Malik gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay conscious, to fight through the dizziness.


    He had to stop spinning, had to get control, had to¡ª


    Yet that was impossible.


    The force was so strong that it sent him toward the ground like a magnet.


    He couldn''t correct it. He couldn''t¡ª


    SPLAT!


    Blink.


    Malik was falling. Again.


    This time, he had a better idea of where to go, and it certainly wasn''t going to be the same path as the last one.


    ''No more surprises.''


    He tightened his grip on Huda and Sinbad, eyes scanning frantically for any other Aether pocket below.


    One after the other, he flew, keeping himself above ground much longer than before, trying to map out the best path even though his body felt like it was being torn apart with every transition.


    But that didn''t last for long.


    One pocket, even bigger than the one that last killed him, had swallowed him whole and spat him out directly into the ground, ending his life before the pain could even hit.


    Splat!


    Blink.


    Attempt number six lasted longer than any before it.


    Malik managed to keep himself just a bit higher in the air to avoid any surprise "you''re-dead" pockets waiting to end his life.


    But it turns out... that was a huge mistake. Literally in a sense.


    Being in the sky for that long had attracted its owner... its Sultan.


    A collosi bird with claws the size of elephants and a beak that looked like it could snap a tree in half like a toothpick.


    ''What the actual fuck?!''


    Every flap of its enormous brown-feathered wings sent crushing gusts of wind that blasted him back like he was a paper airplane.


    His momentum was gone, alongside his hope for surviving that attempt.


    He was sent spiraling out of control, plummeting toward the ground with nothing to slow him down.


    When he hit the dirt, it wasn''t just a splat; it was like a thousand tons of rock decided to pile-drive him into the earth.


    Blink.


    "Not again, not again, not again."


    Malik repeated two words again and again like a mantra.


    His teeth ground together, desperate, absolutely desperate, to make this attempt count.


    Ignoring his building plan, he turned to the river below.


    The surface shimmered, calling for him, tempting him almost.


    And damn it, he was tempted.


    Every death had left scars he couldn''t even begin to process.


    Even the ''painless'' ones had chipped away at something deep inside.


    He couldn''t take it anymore. He needed this to end¡ªone way or another.


    The next Aether pocket yanked him sideways, throwing him with that same brutal force.


    But this time, instead of letting it have its way, Malik fought back.


    The pull dragged him downward instead of forward, and for a second, he panicked.


    His body twisted violently midair, his muscles screaming in protest as he tried to angle them just right.


    ''C''MON! C''MON!''


    He had them lined up¡ªhe had them¡ª


    SPLASH!

 I Told You

    SPLASH!


    Water exploded everywhere as they crashed into the river.


    Malik took the hit first, his body slamming into the surface to shield the kids.


    But it didn''t matter.


    The force rippled through him and reached them, pulling painful, choking coughs from their tiny lungs.


    ''Shit... no...''


    Hearing them struggle gutted him, but he couldn''t comfort them.


    ''...Not now. Get it together!''


    His limbs weren''t moving; they couldn''t.


    ''No, no, no!''


    This was just like before¡ªtoo much like before.


    It couldn''t be happening. Not again.


    They were going to die!


    ''NO!''


    He thrashed, kicked, and fought the pull of the water with everything he had, but it was no use.


    Malik was wrecked¡ªtoo beat up, too drained to even try pulling off this kind of miracle.


    The river dragged him deeper, the pressure squeezing his chest until his lungs screamed for air.


    And then... a disaster happened.


    Huda and Sinbad slipped from his grasp.


    ''NO! NO! NO! NO!''


    His fingers clawed at the water, desperate to reach them, but it was like trying to swim through tar.


    ''FUCK!''


    Their small forms faded into the dark currents not even three seconds later.


    Click-click-click...


    All of a sudden, a shadow loomed over Malik, circling him, and blocking out the faint light from above.


    As if it were following some cruel script, the monster had decided to reveal itself at the worst possible moment.


    Malik... he recognized it at once.


    This was the same damn beast.


    Its teeth glinted like jagged knives, blindingly white, its massive maw gaping impossibly wide as it did earlier¡ªmocking him with every move.


    ''Fuck. You.''


    Darkness swallowed him whole.


    Blink.


    The same damn thing happened.


    Malik''s chest felt like it was going to cave in.


    How many more times could he do this?


    Each attempt dragged him closer to a breaking point he couldn''t even begin to define.


    His every muscle was betraying him.


    It was falling apart before anything could even happen, like they were expecting him to fail.


    The phantom aches of limbs that weren''t injured yet, the constant nausea, the flickering in and out of focus, and the haze of the world around him.


    He NEEDED this to end.


    Because if it didn''t, going insane would be the least of his worries.


    Malik sucked in a deep breath¡ªsomething that felt more like a gasp¡ªand forced himself to follow the path he''d marked out before.


    The one that had almost worked.


    He adjusted, angling his falls differently this time, calculating with what little energy and focus he had left.


    ''Just gotta time it right... Everything''s gotta be perfect...''


    But it wasn''t.


    It never was.


    Each time he thought he had it under control, something else went horribly wrong.


    Missed the next Aether pocket.


    Didn''t twist the right way.


    Didn''t brace enough.


    And in the end?


    The ground came up too fast, slamming into him like a vengeful God''s fist.


    His body shattered.


    Again.


    Blink.


    His body was barely holding together now.


    The pain was unbelievable, but he didn''t care. It didn''t matter.


    All that mattered was¡ª


    Splat!


    They hit the ground.


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.The cracks, the impact...


    It felt like being crushed by the whole world.


    Blink.


    Malik had stopped keeping track of the numbers a while ago.


    But if he hadn''t? He''d know this was attempt number ten.


    Death number eleven.


    One might expect him to have been broken by now, but...


    "Come on... Come on... Come ON!"


    He roared into the wind and hurled himself at the next Aether pocket like it was the last thing keeping him alive.


    And for the first time¡ªfinally¡ªit didn''t betray him.


    Something about this one felt different.


    Why?


    Because it worked.


    It actually sent him where he wanted to go.


    His path to safety was right there, so close he could almost taste it.


    Only one more Aether pocket stood between him and life.


    His heart thundered in his chest, each beat slamming against his ribs.


    ''Just one more... just one.''


    Twisting mid-air, Malik angled his body perfectly this time.


    Not too fast, not too slow. His aim was dead-on as the pocket yanked him in.


    And then¡ª


    BOOM!


    It spat him out past a hill of jagged rocks and straight toward a thick mess of trees in the distance.


    His only chance at breaking the fall.


    His last hope to make it out alive.


    ''Three...''


    Malik''s eyes locked on a tree bending awkwardly to the side, standing out from the dense pack of green.


    ''Two...''


    It was his target.


    The one thing he was aimed toward.


    ''One!''


    Curling into himself, Malik squeezed Huda and Sinbad tightly into his chest, almost breaking their ribs.


    "GAAH¡ª!"


    The impact was brutal.


    His body slammed into the tree, the force cracking bones he didn''t even know he had.


    The tree bent further under the sheer force of his fall, creaking like it might snap.


    For a fleeting moment, everything slowed.


    But time had other plans.


    The tree rebounded, flinging Malik to the right, deeper into the patch of trees.


    He crashed into another tree before tumbling down, his back slamming hard into the dirt below, the weight of Sinbad and Huda still cradled in his arms.


    And that''s when it hit him.


    It wasn''t just pain¡ªit was an all-encompassing, white-hot freight train of agony.


    Every nerve screamed in protest, but Malik didn''t scream with them.


    He couldn''t.


    His breath whooshed out of him, and for a long moment, air refused to return to his lungs.


    "Haaaaaaah!"


    But an equally long moment later, he finally gasped, his chest rising and falling in short, ragged bursts.


    He clung to consciousness with sheer willpower, even as his vision blurred and darkened at the edges.


    Through the haze, he saw them.


    Sinbad. Huda.


    Still wrapped in his arms.


    Still alive.


    He had done it.


    They were safe.


    But the cost...


    "H-Hey."


    Malik whispered, the words slurring a little.


    "Told you I''d save you..."


    He pressed his dry lips to their foreheads, planting soft kisses on both of them.


    "I told you..."


    But as the words faded from his mouth, the pain became too much.


    His body gave in.


    The ground beneath him felt so oddly soft. So welcoming and inviting.


    His right hand twitched against the dirt before falling limp, but even in unconsciousness, his other hand stayed locked around the two.


    Malik saved them.


    ...He did.


    And the world turned dark.

 Twelve

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "No, no, no, he couldn''t have died after all of that! HE CAN''T!"


    Huda''s wail of despair was heard by all.


    Her chest rose and fell so fast it looked like she was on the edge of hyperventilating.


    She felt his pain¡ªevery bit of it, every moment of it¡ªliterally.


    From the very beginning till the end.


    As a result, she was going mental, just unable to take it anymore.


    Watching him die, again and again, was like having her heart ripped out repeatedly.


    She was barely holding it together.


    And the worst part? It wasn''t just the dying.


    It was his eyes¡ªhow they looked dimmer every single time, like he was giving up on himself, losing whatever value he had left in his life.


    If this kept going, he was going to stop caring about himself altogether.


    He would throw his life away for the most frivolous things.


    The consequences of that on his mind and soul were unfathomable.


    That was what hit her harder than anything else.


    She couldn''t handle it. Not this. Not him. Not like this.


    "Calm down, Lady Huda."


    Azeem''s tone was sharp yet still hollow, his facade long since crumbled.


    "Calm down?! How do you expect me to calm down?!"


    Huda stood up and spun toward him, her wide, tear-filled eyes boring into his.


    "That''s my brother in there! He keeps dying¡ªover and over and over!"


    Her breath hitched.


    "Do you know what that''s like? Do you?!"


    Azeem smiled.


    ''Oh, so he''s your brother again, now is he?''


    He wanted to say that so incredibly bad but held it in, knowing when not to talk.


    "I don''t. But think for a second... Something''s missing, is it not?"


    Pointing at the projection, where Malik''s broken body lay motionless, he added:


    "The Sultan''s not dead yet. Look."


    All eyes quietly listening to the conversation turned back to the projection.


    Huda did so as well, her lips trembling as she tried to speak:


    "He... he looks... dead."


    Azeem nodded.


    "True, but the world hasn''t blinked... Until it does, Malik''s alive. He''s holding on."


    Most of the crowd had their eyes widened, only now realizing that fact.


    Azeem was right.


    The world in front of them had yet to blink.


    And though it didn''t seem like it, Malik still clung to life.


    Huda froze, her teary gaze glued to the projection, more specifically, her big brother.


    "He... He''s alive?"


    She whispered, as though not daring to hope.


    "Yeah."


    Azeem answered softly, placing his arms behind him as he leaned back and looked up at the ceiling.


    "Barely, sure. But damn if he didn''t just cheat death ten times in a row, or I guess eleven if you count the earlier one."


    Those words brought no comfort to Huda, but she nodded stiffly, her body wound tighter than a spring.


    Layla and Safira, though, both let out shaky breaths they didn''t even realize they''d been holding.


    A slight feeling of relief washed over them, loosening muscles they hadn''t known were clenched.


    Malik had survived.


    It was a weird feeling, honestly¡ªbeing grateful that the guy who betrayed them was still breathing.


    But they felt it all the same.


    Noor and Roya didn''t have much to say, their expressions unreadable, while Zafar, the world''s "hero," stood there stewing in his own envy, looking like someone had just stolen his spotlight.


    ''If I only had this lucky bastard''s cheat! I would''ve used it so much better!''


    Nobody¡ªabsolutely nobody¡ªwould call Malik lucky, even with his freakish, miracle-like ability to cheat death.


    Well, that is, if they had a brain bigger than a peanut or were in their right mind.


    To everyone watching, except the little "hero," it seemed more like a curse, and Malik would''ve agreed.


    A curse that clung to him like a shadow, ready to drag him down until true death finally claimed him.


    That seemed to be the common sentiment in the hall, too, as some random guy in the corner muttered loud enough for those around him to hear:


    "He was face to face with a Dandan and a Roc... Just how unlucky can one get?"


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience."Forget unlucky; the man''s basically got a death wish stamped on his back."


    Chuckling, another chimed in, shaking her head in disbelief:


    "Sure, the Dandan was a baby, but still..."


    "A baby Dandan?"


    Some young girl repeated, her voice pitching higher as she continued to speak:


    "What does that even mean?! It was the size of a boat!"


    The one who first spoke smirked at his fellow guild member.


    "Oh, it gets much worse when they''re fully grown. That was just the appetizer. The main meal, its mother, is no smaller than the Roc."


    Zafar picked up on his words and decided to join in, attempting to lean the situation back to where it should''ve been:


    "Wasn''t he lucky to not have her awake then? After all, it might''ve broken his mind. He''s already struggling with just a few deaths."


    "Lucky?... JUST A FEW DEATHS?!"


    Huda had officially snapped, looking at Zafar like he was someone she didn''t know.


    "He died eleven times! How is that ''just a few?!''"


    "..."


    He had no comeback for that.


    It wasn''t that Zafar couldn''t argue¡ªoh, he could.


    But even he wasn''t dumb enough to try. Not now.


    Their relationship was already hanging by a thread, and saying one wrong word would snap it completely.


    And if that happened? Well, there went all his grand plans for building his harem.


    Noor had already cut ties with him, which left just Huda, Roya, and Safira.


    Zafar couldn''t afford to lose any more. Not a single one.


    It wasn''t exactly a stretch to say he was thinking with his dick rather than his brain.


    Even in this tense situation, getting laid was most of what he thought about.


    "The Sultan''s still breathing, isn''t he?"


    But Azeem didn''t give a damn about any of that¡ªnot Huda''s relationship with Zafar, and certainly not Zafar''s dumbass plan to build his little harem.


    "And you''re here, alive."


    His words silenced the hall completely.


    "He did that for you. Don''t let his sacrifice go to waste by losing control."


    Huda sniffled, wiping her face with both hands.


    "I don''t want him to sacrifice himself for me. I just... I just want him to hate me, bully me, betray me... Anything but this. But now, knowing what really happened..."


    She paused, her breath hitching.


    "I can only blame myself. If it wasn''t for me, my uncle would still be alive."


    Safira wanted so badly to mutter, "We all do," but had somehow managed to stop herself.


    Jealousy was ugly¡ªno, jealousy at this level was monstrous, and she didn''t want to expose that side of herself to anyone.


    Layla smiled at Huda and glanced back at the projection where Malik lay motionless.


    "But my husband... He''s not the kind of guy to give up, no matter what."


    Noor agreed, though not for the same reason:


    "That''s what makes him dangerous. The kind of dangerous that doesn''t stop until the job is done."


    Huda fell silent, staring at the projection as if it held all the answers she was desperate to find.


    Her hands clasped tightly together, her knuckles white.


    "He told me once..."


    Her voice was barely audible.


    "He told me he''d always protect me, no matter what. I thought it was just his way of rubbing salt in the wound back then, but now... now he''s proving it. He did everything he could to save me."


    Her head dropped, and the sadness on her face cut deeper than her words.


    "So what... what made him give up? What b-broke his mind?"


    The hall went utterly still.


    Somehow, the question hung heavy over everyone, sinking into their thoughts like a stone dropped into a deep well.


    They were dying to know the answer¡ªbut terrified of it at the same time.


    Sure, it was just the first layer, but they''d already seen something that strayed so far from normal in the first ten or so hours of his memories.


    What else could be lurking deeper? What if it got worse?


    No one wanted to face it, to confront whatever or whoever had broken someone they viewed as stronger than themselves.


    So yes, it wasn''t just curiosity. It was fear.


    Incredible, paralyzing fear.

 Nothing But Grass

    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik fluttered his eyes open, meeting the bright light of their star.


    The dull ache of his entire body made even that feel like climbing a mountain.


    He glanced down to see Sinbad staring up at him, still held to his chest, his wide, tear-filled eyes filled with so much emotion it almost made him wince.


    "...You''re crying again."


    Malik''s voice was a gravelly rasp as he forced himself to grin.


    "What, you thought I was done for?"


    Sinbad sniffled and swiped at his face with the back of his hand, his cheeks streaked with dirt and dried tears.


    "You looked dead!"


    Malik chuckled weakly.


    "Dead people don''t wake up, kiddo."


    "You weren''t even breathing!"


    Sinbad shot back, his voice cracking halfway through like he was trying to yell and cry all at once.


    "Eh, fair point."


    Malik admitted, shifting just a little¡ªand instantly regretting it.


    Fresh waves of pain lit him up like fireworks, but he swallowed it down.


    "But hey, tenth time''s the charm, right?"


    Sinbad glared at him.


    "Tenth time? I¡ªI don''t even know what the hell that''s supposed to mean, but I can tell you right now, it''s not funny."


    "Never said it was."


    Malik let his eyes drift shut for a few seconds like even keeping them open was exhausting.


    That was when he noticed it¡ªhis left arm still wrapped around the kids.


    With a groan, he released the two, who immediately flopped to the side.


    He pushed himself up with his elbows, wincing as rising pain shot through him, but he ignored it.


    Out of habit, his eyes scanned their surroundings before they landed on Huda.


    "Guess you two decided I''m your personal heater, huh?"


    She was curled up against his side, her small hand gripping what little was left of his tattered robes.


    For a moment, a faint smile flickered across his face.


    It wasn''t much, but it was there.


    Then his gaze shifted to Sinbad, and the smile vanished.


    A memory had made itself known in his mind.


    "...You okay? No Aether whips, broken bones, or anything?"


    Sinbad hesitated, then nodded.


    "I-I''m fine. Y-Y-Y-You?"


    "Me?"


    Malik let out a bitter laugh.


    "I''m a walking disaster. Here, help me out."


    Sinbad scrambled to his feet, wobbling slightly as he grabbed Malik''s arm.


    Together, they managed to get him sitting upright.


    Malik hissed sharply, glancing down at his leg, where a bone was sticking out at an angle it definitely shouldn''t have been.


    "That... that doesn''t look right."


    Sinbad mumbled, looking like he might puke.


    "Yeah, no kidding."


    Malik said, reaching down and gripping the bone with both hands.


    "Wait, what are you¡ª?"


    CRACK!


    "FUUU¡ª"


    Malik bit down on his tongue, his vision swimming as he shoved the bone back into place.


    He breathed heavily through his nose, the taste of blood on his tongue.


    "Are you okay?!"


    Sinbad stared at him, wide-eyed.


    "Peachy... Now, give me a second."


    Tearing off a dangling part of his robe, Malik used it to clean the wounds on his back, wiping away any lingering blood.


    Then, after a few minutes of cracking and shuffling, he managed to get to his feet, though every movement still sent incredible jolts of pain through his body.


    "Alright, let me just..."


    He leaned down, trying to scoop up Huda.


    His arms tensed, but his body had other ideas.


    The second he tried to lift her, his knees nearly buckled.


    "Shit..."


    Malik barely managed to stay upright, holding himself on a nearby tree.


    He huffed in frustration, shaking his head.


    "Okay, fine. Plan B. Come on, we need to find somewhere to hole up for a bit."


    Sinbad didn''t need a second reminder.


    Silently, he knelt down, carefully scooping Huda up and slinging her onto his back.


    Malik gave a nod, clearly grateful but too stubborn to say it outright.


    He limped ahead, leading the way deeper into the patch of trees, while Sinbad followed close behind.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "...Wow."


    "It''s no wonder he became the Sultan."


    "After all that, he laughs it off like it''s nothing. Even cracking jokes."


    "Yeah, like it didn''t even phase him."


    "Is he really just a normal beggar? No way. Not even the toughest kids from the strongest families could pull that off."


    "I mean, come on¡ªhis temperament? That''s on another level. Honestly, it''s better than half the rookies in our guild."


    "Agreed. There''s no way someone like him comes from nothing. No normal kid survives all that and still looks untouchable afterward."


    Those who didn''t hold much of a grudge against the Sultan started throwing out compliments.


    But unlike Zafar''s usual yes-men, these weren''t just flattery¡ªthey were genuine.


    Even though they all saw him as evil, their words couldn''t stop slipping out, like their brains refused to deny what their minds believed.


    Meanwhile, up front in the hall, a certain someone wasn''t exactly joining in on the chatter.


    She was curled up tight, her head buried between her knees. Her fingers gripped the fabric of her dress, and her eyes darted between the ground and the projection like she was trying to convince herself of something.


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.''I know... I know he didn''t take them with me...''


    It was Huda, and she was going through it.


    ''But... uncle was kind. He must''ve helped them out a lot before he left... He must''ve...''


    She bit her lip hard, her breaths coming quicker, trying to steady herself.


    ''I''m sure.''


    But no matter how much she tried to believe it, the tremble in her hands told a different story.


    "...I''m sure."


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    The center of the grove held a surprise.


    Beneath the shade of the trees was a hidden entrance to an underground cave.


    The cool air wafting from it was a blessing after the scorching heat outside.


    Malik didn''t hesitate, limping down the uneven slope with Sinbad and Huda close behind.


    The cave was spacious, its walls glistening faintly with moisture.


    Sinbad laid Huda down on a smooth patch of stone, and Malik lowered himself beside her with a groan.


    He let his head fall back, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath.


    It was quiet... peaceful.


    ''This... wait¡ªno.''


    But that feeling shattered when he finally noticed that Huda''s skin was unnaturally warm.


    Malik had realized it this late only because he seemed to have forgotten what ''cool'' was.


    And now, that he was reintroduced to it, he finally realized.


    He touched her forehead, his heart sinking.


    "She''s burning up... probably sick since yesterday."


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "No wonder she didn''t remember anything¡­ she was sick the whole time."


    "So you''re telling me that they stayed there for long?"


    "Maybe. At this point, we can''t trust everything the Lady''s said about this anymore."


    It was subtle, whispered among only a few, but the doubt was spreading through the crowd like wildfire.


    Time after time, Huda''s words had been proven wrong, chipped away piece by piece, and now?


    Now, they were finding out her uncle¡ªthe Goddamn Sultan himself¡ªtook forever just to reach the first layer of Al-Fawra.


    ''What''s that?''


    ''A joke?''


    ''What, did he get stuck in traffic?''


    Everyone knew better than to actually say the truth out loud, but it was clear enough.


    Huda''s camp knew that as well.


    They couldn''t say anything and neither could their Lady.


    Huda was stiff and silent, her head down, her face pale.


    She didn''t meet anyone''s gaze.


    She didn''t try to explain herself.


    She just sat there, holding on to her knees like it was the only thing tethering her to reality, praying.


    ''Uncle... please!''


    Her thoughts screamed in her head.


    ''Just one thing. Let one thing be true. Please¡­ otherwise¡­ I don''t know¡ª''


    Huda didn''t know how much longer she could hold it together.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik turned his head to tell Sinbad¡ªbut the boy was already asleep, curled up beside his sister, his exhaustion finally catching up to him.


    "Figures."


    He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair.


    "Mhhmmm..."


    A faint whimper drew his attention back to Huda.


    Her lips moved, barely forming words:


    "Water... I need... water..."


    Malik''s chest tightened.


    ''Wait...''


    He reached for the gourd tucked under his robe, only to find just a few bits of it remaining, dry bits at that.


    "Damn it."


    Tossing the useless pieces aside, he got close to the wall and dragged himself up.


    Malik then limped out of the cave, his body aching like he''d just wrestled a mountain¡ªand lost.


    Every step was a battle, his legs wobbling, threatening to buckle under him.


    He stumbled through the grove, squinting at the shadows between the trees like they might suddenly cough up what he needed most.


    "Come on, just one lousy fruit,"


    Malik swiped at the lower branches.


    His fingers brushed against dry bark and brittle leaves.


    Not even an alien berry. Not even a bug.


    The trees seemed to mock him, standing tall and useless.


    "Of course... it''s never easy."


    He kicked at a root sticking out of the dirt, but immediately regretted it, hopping on one foot as pain shot through his toes.


    "Ow! You stupid¡ªargh!"


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    Most people couldn''t help it¡ªthey laughed, whether with him or at him, savoring the rare moments of levity.


    "Ahahahaha! Even he could do things like that, huh?"


    "Right? I almost forgot the Sultan was just a kid!"


    "Yeah¡­ it''s hard to believe, especially with those eyes of his."


    "The way he looked at those slave-traders¡ªsheesh."


    "Heh~ No kidding. It''s like looking at two completely different people."


    Even the ones once closest to him, his disciple and his ex-wife, who had spent the entire projection fighting back tears, found themselves smiling¡ªsoft, fragile smiles that betrayed a quiet relief.


    For just a moment, the heavy, suffocating air of the hall lifted.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Determined, or maybe just too stubborn to quit, Malik pressed on.


    He clawed through shrubs, cursed at vines that snagged his robe, and even tried sniffing the air like some wild animal, hoping to catch a whiff of water.


    Nothing. Not even a damp breeze.


    And when he finally broke free of the grove, he stopped dead in his tracks.


    "You''ve got to be kidding me."

 Wetting Her Lips

    The world had... shifted. No jagged rocks, no familiar terrain.


    Just endless grassy hills rolling under a sky that seemed way too big.


    It was flat. Empty. Desolate.


    "You really have got to be fucking kidding me!"


    Malik turned in a slow circle, hoping to spot something¡ªa stream, a puddle, a patch of mud; even a mirage would do.


    Nope. Just grass. Miles and miles of boring, dry grass.


    "Hahahahaha¡ªFuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!"


    His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth as he licked his cracked lips.


    "If God exists like those annoying-ass preachers say... then I''m sure ''He'' hates me."


    Wiping the sweat off his forehead, he tried to calm himself down:


    "Alright, Malik... This is fine. You''re fine. You''re not gonna die out here, and Huda''s definitely not gonna die because you suck at finding water. Nope. Not happening."


    His pep talk wasn''t great, but it was all he had.


    With a shaky breath, he pushed forward, his worn sandals crunching against the brittle, sun-bleached grass beneath his feet.


    The dry air clung to his skin, and sweat dripped down his face, stinging his eyes.


    He wiped at it with his robes, though it didn''t help much.


    "...Maybe over that hill."


    A hill among many loomed ahead, its incline steep.


    Malik decided it was as good a direction as any¡ªbetter than standing still and admitting defeat.


    He began the climb, his legs shaking all the way up.


    And when he reached the top, he stopped again, exacerbated.


    More grass.


    Malik stared at it, his hands on his hips, his chest heaving.


    "This place is a joke. A bad one."


    He squatted down, grabbed a handful of grass, yanked it out of the ground, and threw it as hard as he could.


    It fluttered pathetically in the breeze before settling a few feet away.


    "Cool. Yeah, real funny. Real freaking funny."


    He laughed, a bitter, broken sound.


    Still, he didn''t stop.


    Malik wandered further, the sun beating down on him, his skin prickling with heat.


    His robe felt like it weighed a ton, but he didn''t dare take it off.


    After what felt like hours, he stumbled to a stop.


    He swayed on his feet, blinking at the horizon.


    Still nothing. Still just grass.


    Malik dropped to his knees and slammed his fists into the dirt.


    "Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!"


    With a final punch, he flipped, relaxing his back on the ground in defeat.


    But then, as he lay there, cursing under each heavy breath, something clicked in his head.


    ''I need to get back... I really can''t leave them for long.''


    He sighed.


    ''Huda needs me. Sinbad needs me... and this? It''s wasting time.''


    Time was something they didn''t have.


    Certainly true, but still, that would be the case only if Malik''s time-looping ability wasn''t taken into account.


    But it seemed that even though he had acknowledged it as a tool, he still wasn''t going to rely on it the first time something tough happened.


    After all, if he did that, tomorrow might never come.


    "Ugh..."


    Grimacing, he pushed himself back up, his legs trembling like jelly.


    "...Alright."


    He turned back toward the grove.


    "Plan C it is. Whatever that is."


    His walk back was slower, heavier, every step weighted with failure.


    By the time he stumbled into the cave again, his legs gave out entirely, and he collapsed onto his knees beside Huda.


    She hadn''t moved.


    Neither had Sinbad.


    "Sorry, kids... I''m fucked."


    After resting for a few minutes, he pushed himself up and leaned towards Huda.


    ''Should I just give her my blood?...''


    Malik shook his head.


    ''No, it''s too thick; it might even kill her.''


    He hesitated for a second, staring down at her chapped lips and flushed face.


    "She''s gonna hate me for this... If you remember this later, we''re both agreeing it never happened, but for now, you gotta hang on, alright?"


    And with that warning, Malik did the only thing he could.


    Leaning in, he licked her lips, his face scrunching up like he''d just eaten something sour.


    Her skin was hot¡ªlike, "set your tongue on fire" hot¡ªand he fought the urge to recoil.


    "Ugh, why do you have to taste like the desert?"


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    Everyone remained quiet and slowly turned their eyes to Huda, one of the four "heroines."


    A maiden of well-known renown.


    She was believed to have been untouched, not even a single kiss throughout her many hundred years of life.


    Now, however?


    Everyone in the world saw her gobble up Malik''s tongue like it was candy, wanting to extract all the moisture that was left, which wasn''t much at all.


    Though she was just a child, the scene still impacted most who saw it.


    Especially her camp, Safira, and Zafar, though for very different reasons.


    "It''s fine, Lady Huda! Nobody will count that as their first kiss!"


    "She''s right, my Lady. You are as pure as the day you were born."


    "There''s no need to feel embarrassed, Lady Huda."


    The closest of them tried to soothe, or rather, appease, the frozen Huda, while those at the back did something similar for the crowd, forcing them to forget what they saw.


    Safira, meanwhile, looked at Huda with jealousy.


    Right... it was that bad.


    And Zafar wasn''t any better.


    His eyes remained on the projection, seething with envy.


    ''Bastard! His hand all over my fucking wife!''


    Huda wasn''t his wife, and nor was Malik''s hand all over her, but again, the "hero" wasn''t thinking straight.


    "We sure he isn''t just taking advantage of¡ª"


    "Shut the fuck up, you retarded bastard!"


    "Anyone can see that''s not true."


    As the random trio arguing in the back had said, no one in the hall, or even beyond, could honestly claim that Malik did this for sexual reasons, much to Zafar''s dismay.


    If anything, he seemed disgusted by it.


    And that, for whatever bubbling reason, had annoyed Huda the most.


    Whether it was effective or not didn''t register in anyone''s mind, like hey, he was at least trying, right?


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    "This is officially the worst thing I''ve ever done... and that''s saying something."


    Huda stirred slightly, her body loosening up as her ragged breathing evened out a little.


    Malik sat on his heels, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and trying not to think too hard about what he''d just done.


    "Alright, relax for a bit. You owe me big time, you hear? Like¡­ forever big."


    He glanced over at Sinbad, who was still curled up and snoring softly.


    "And you, little man."


    Malik pointed a shaky finger at him.


    "You better wake up soon and start pulling your weight. I''m not cut out for this babysitting crap."


    With that, he let himself slump back against the cool wall as exhaustion claimed him.


    His body felt like it had been wrung out and left to dry in the sun.


    Every muscle ached, every joint protested.


    He tilted his head back, staring at the dark ceiling above.


    "This is what I get for trying to be a hero... Should''ve just stayed out of it. Let someone else save the day."


    Even as he said those words, he knew it was a lie.


    There was no "someone else" that would''ve saved the day.


    It was just him.


    And unfortunately for whatever aspirations he had before this, he couldn''t walk away.


    Not from them. Not from anyone.


    That wasn''t who he was, no matter how much he wanted to pretend otherwise.


    "You guys better make it..."


    "..."


    "You hear me? I didn''t haul your little butts here just for you to check out now... You''re not... allowed. That''s... that''s an order!"


    The last word came out all wobbly, like his vocal cords had just given up.


    He swallowed hard, his throat dry and scratchy, blinking fast to keep his eyes from stinging too much.


    ''Can''t sleep... no. Not yet...''


    Malik dragged a dirty hand down his face.


    The gesture didn''t help much¡ªit just smeared sweat and dirt around, making his cheeks sticky.


    ''Not until I make sure...''


    His knees wobbled, and he let himself sink, his feet spreading wide, trying to anchor him to the ground.


    ''...They''re... okay...''


    He blinked.


    ''Jus''... five seconds.''


    ''...Just five.''


    And then, just like that, the fight was over.


    ''That''s all~.''


    His eyes slammed shut like someone hit a switch.


    ''...''


    ''...''


    ''...''


    Malik had fallen asleep.

 Cursed To live

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "I swear to God, I can''t believe he''s a twelve-year-old."


    "Right? Twelve, my ass. The Sultan''s been acting like he''s pushing ninety since day one."


    "You think... maybe... some dude switched souls with him or something? Like, y''know, transmigrated and all that?


    "Hah! Maybee~! Would explain why he''s been treating everyone not related to him like disposable extras."


    For all intents and purposes, the vibe in the hall had shifted.


    People were relaxed on the surface, like they were watching some gritty art-house flick instead of a boy breaking himself into pieces to keep his siblings alive.


    But it was fake, every bit of it.


    Everyone could feel that buzzing tension, coiled somewhere deep, but no one wanted to admit it.


    They wordlessly decided to avoid the elephant in the hall.


    It was easier to crack jokes than acknowledge how much their hands were shaking¡ªor how bad it felt watching a kid go through Hell.


    Because if they did? Their heads might fry like Malik''s apparently had.


    So they did what people do: talk. Throw out theories. Crack jokes.


    Anything to make it feel a little less raw.


    "Bet he''s gonna find water, though."


    "Man, I don''t think he''s gonna make it over that hill, honestly."


    "You kidding? Plot armor, dude. Plot armor!"


    Even those who weren''t the talkative type did the same.


    But not everyone was joining in.


    The ''named?''


    Oh, they weren''t cracking jokes. Not even close.


    If anything, the more they watched the peaceful scene before them, the stiffer they got, like someone had poured concrete into their veins.


    All had different reasons but they shared one thing.


    Fear.


    Sure, they had Azeem as their spy and Roya, THE broker, with them in the coalition.


    They felt that it was natural that they had succeeded in trapping Malik.


    But the more they saw of his actions back then, the more they doubted their success.


    ...Did the Sultan actually have something to get himself out?


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik, who just woke up from a quick nap, sat on the ground, legs sprawled out like he had just finished a marathon in the middle of the desert¡ªwhich, honestly, wasn''t far off.


    His head lolled back against the wall, and for the first time since the whole nightmare started, he actually let himself think.


    Not about the kids, or the cave, or how he was going to survive the next five minutes.


    No, he thought about it.


    The whole "return by death" thing.


    His lips twisted into a bitter grin.


    "Something that I had since birth? A Blessing maybe? God might actually like me..."


    He chuckled, unable to even finish that sentence.


    "My ass, this shit is a full-blown curse."


    Sure, coming back to life sounded nice on paper.


    A second chance to fix things, to survive, to make it all better.


    And that was true... mostly.


    Because sometimes it wasn''t ''fixing'' anything¡ªit was just reliving the same horrible moment over and over.


    Every death. Every failure. Every mistake.


    What if there weren''t any Aether pockets? How would he have survived then?


    He wouldn''t have, simple as that.


    The cycle would''ve repeated until he lost his mind or until his curse was taken away.


    That was a horrifying thought, especially since he had gotten pretty close to reaching that state.


    "And the best part?"


    He added, talking to no one but the cave walls.


    "I can''t even control it. Those checkpoints might even be utterly random."


    Malik felt a shiver run down his spine as a thought couldn''t help but come to his mind.


    ''If the checkpoints are random, then what stops them from saving at the completely wrong time?''


    ''...''


    ''...Nothing.''


    ''This curse... I can''t trust it. It''s a tool, yes, but it needs to be my last one.''


    Nodding his head at that decision, he glanced at the two little ones.


    "They can''t know. There''s no need. Besides... who''s gonna believe me?"


    He thought about them for a second, imagining their wide-eyed stares if he ever dropped that truth bomb.


    "Yeah, nah, that''d go over real well~."


    Huda would probably call him crazy.


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.Sinbad would cry, or worse, start asking questions he didn''t have answers to.


    Questions like, ''How did you get it?'' or, ''Does it affect just our planet or the entire universe?'' or even, ''If that''s true, then isn''t it a power of a God? After all, only a God can affect another.''


    ...He would be right with the last one.


    "Nope."


    Malik shook his head.


    "Not telling ''em. Ever."


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "...That''s it? That''s really why he didn''t tell them?"


    "Honestly? Weak. I expected, like, a better reason."


    "Same... Thought it''d be more interesting. Some crazy Flaw. Maybe like, he couldn''t say anything about it without the universe exploding or something."


    "You idiots."


    Someone cursed from the back, his voice interrupting the murmurs.


    "Are you all blind or just dumb?"


    "What?!"


    "You dare?!"


    Clicking his tongue, a bearded man stepped forward just enough to make himself known.


    He pointed at the projection, at Malik''s face.


    "Look! Look at his face!"


    Everyone turned back to the projection, where Malik was smiling at his siblings.


    But even a child could see it¡ªthat smile didn''t reach his eyes.


    "He''s sad, you morons... Isn''t it obvious he''s making excuses? You really think he didn''t tell them because of some dumb Flaw or whatever? Nah. He didn''t tell them because he doesn''t want to guilt-trip them."


    "...What?"


    The man sighed, rubbing his temples like he couldn''t believe Magi like them were a part of the coalition.


    "Think about it. He tells them what he''s really been doing, what it''s costing him, and then what? They feel guilty. They start treating him different. Maybe they even stop leaning on him, and then he''s all alone and feels useless. He''d hate that more than anything."


    Another man next to him began to nod.


    "True, true. He''s basically carrying all the emotional baggage so they don''t have to. Think of it like a sacrifice¡ªbut, y''know, not the ''heroic death'' kind. More... emotional."


    Those guys went on and on while watching as the projection hadn''t yet paused.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik let out a long sigh, dragging a hand through his tangled hair of gold.


    "Alright, pity party over. Focus up. Kids need water, and I''m not dying of thirst in this Godforsaken cave."


    He glanced at the broken gourd sitting beside him.


    One jagged piece was still intact, big enough to hold a small amount of water.


    "This''ll have to do."


    He grabbed it and hauled himself to his feet.


    His knees protested, but he ignored them, squinting into the dark depths of the cave.


    "Okay, Malik... Time to be the hero again~."


    His words attempted to make light of the situation, relax his mind a little, but it didn''t work, not one bit.


    Worry was obvious on his face as he trudged forth through the cave.


    It stretched on like the throat of some ancient beast¡ªtight and choking in some parts, then yawning open into massive, jagged spaces that made one feel like an ant under a giant''s foot.


    The deeper he went, the cooler the air got, slick and clammy like someone breathing down his neck.


    Every so often, he''d hear a distant screech or the scrape of something shifting in the dark.


    Each sound ricocheted off the stone walls, turning whispers into roars and making his skin crawl with goosebumps.


    It certainly wasn''t the kind of place one would go for fun.


    Of course, not unless they were, well, a Seeker.


    Malik pressed on, and after a few minutes, he started noticing little signs¡ªtiny droplets clinging to the walls, the floor slightly darker, like it was drinking in the moisture.


    It wasn''t much, but it was enough to keep him going.


    Minutes stretched, and his throat continued to burn like he''d been swallowing fistfuls of sand with every step.


    He rubbed at his neck, trying not to think about just how dry his mouth was or how heavy the air felt in his chest.


    Every other minute, he tilted his head, straining his ears for the sound of water, something, anything.


    At first, there was nothing.


    Just his own breathing, the screeches, and the soft shuffle of his sandals.


    Then¡ªplink¡ªwas that a drip?