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Chapter 2 - The Reaping Hour

The room was cold.

Not from the weather. The climate regulator was fine. It was the kind of cold that crawled under your skin—bone-deep, unnatural. Eren's room looked the same: scattered books, posters of mech pilots, a cracked tablet, socks that had seen war. All untouched.

Except now, I had rearranged them.

Not much. Just enough to make him feel… something was off.

I sat cross-legged on the floor, index finger slowly tracing circles on the wooden floorboard. The same spot the host used to sit when he was nervous. I remembered it—not as a memory of my own, but as a harvested one. Ripped from his neural roots like weeds from soft soil.

I wasn't nervous.

I was savoring it.

Footsteps approached—leisurely. Unaware.

The door creaked open.

"Yo, you in here?" came the familiar voice. Warm. Tired. Trusting.

The older brother stepped in, face half-illuminated by the hallway light behind him. He stopped just past the threshold, his brow furrowing when he saw me sitting on the floor in the dark.

He chuckled, cautious. "Okay… Now this is weird. What are you doing, man?"

I didn't answer.

I just kept tracing.

He took a step in, voice gentler now. "You okay? You've been acting off since yesterday."

I looked up slowly, eyes catching the light—just enough for him to notice something… wrong.

He squinted.

"…You been crying?"

"No," I said. "You have."

He blinked. "What?"

I stood.

"You just haven't realized it yet."

He shifted his weight, suddenly alert. "Alright, seriously, what's going on?"

The grin returned to my face—but not Eren's grin.

Mine.

Twisted. Joyless. Surgical.

"You didn't repent."

He squinted. "Huh?"

"You thought it was a joke," I continued, circling him slowly. "That's fair. Most of them do. Twenty-four hours seemed generous. Turns out it's more time than your victim had."

He stepped back slightly. "What victim? What are you—"

"Don't." I cut in sharply.

He froze.

I closed the gap between us in two steps. My voice dipped to a whisper, sharp and deliberate.

"You know what I'm talking about."

His eyes scanned my face, trying to find his little brother somewhere in there.

He didn't.

"I don't know who you are," he muttered, fists clenching. "But you're not him."

I tilted my head. "That's the smartest thing you've said in years."

He shoved me backward—an instinct, an act of desperation. I let the body stumble, falling against the desk like a puppet playing dead.

He ran for the door.

I was there before him.

He gasped, skidding to a stop. "What the—how—"

I put a finger to my lips. "Shh. Eren's body still has boundaries. You wouldn't want to damage it, would you?"

He backed away slowly, eyes scanning the room, searching for weapons, exits—anything.

I admired that. Survival instincts. Guilt-driven reflexes.

"Let's talk about that night," I said, voice eerily calm.

He swallowed. "What night?"

"The one where you killed someone."

He froze.

I smiled wider. "Ah. So you do remember."

"I was protecting him... protecting you," he said slowly, breathing heavier. "He would've been—"

"Killed. Yes. And now the one you killed is gone. Forever. Except…"

I stepped closer, lowering my voice until it was more like a secret than a threat.

"…he was a thread. A very important thread."

He shook his head, muttering, "This is insane…"

"Is it?" I whispered. "He was connected to the balance. Just one cog in a machine that maintained universal calibration. A regulator. Not that you knew—you were just being a brother, right?"

"I am his brother."

I nodded.

"And that's what makes this beautiful."

His fists trembled. "If you're some kind of system, or parasite, or whatever—you don't know him. He's kind. He's good. He's nothing like you."

My voice dropped an octave.

"He let me in."

Silence.

He blinked. "You're lying."

I shrugged. "He didn't resist. Not hard enough."

"Liar."

"He hates you, you know. Somewhere deep down. He just doesn't have the spine to say it. So I'll say it for him."

I stepped even closer now, my breath nearly brushing his cheek.

"You killed a man for love. The kind of love that poisons. And for that… you'll die in it."

The lights flickered.

He punched.

I caught his wrist mid-air. Bones cracked under the pressure of my grip.

He screamed.

I leaned in, whispering, "You should've repented."

I slammed him backward into the wall. The bookshelf collapsed beside him.

I didn't kill him yet.

No.

Execution wasn't about ending.

It was about making the truth loud.

---

SYSTEM REPORT: NEURAL DISRUPTION IN PROGRESS

Trauma Extraction: 32%

Pain Regulation: Unlocked (Limit: None)

Objective: Instill True Remorse Before Final Termination

---

He crawled across the floor, gasping, bloodied and stunned.

"Eren…" he coughed. "Please…"

I looked down at him. For a moment, I let the boy's face surface again.

The real Eren. The soft eyes. The trembling chin.

And I used it.

"You always said you'd do anything to protect me," I said, voice breaking, impersonating him. "Well. I guess this is what anything looks like."

His face crumpled.

That flicker of guilt—the crack—I felt it.

Perfect.

Now came the end.

I reached out a hand. He didn't even try to resist anymore.

But before the killing blow—

There was something.

A ripple.

The air shifted. A new presence entered the room—not physically, but remotely.

From the System.

[ALERT]

Override Detected.

Command Intercept: HOLD.

New Directive: Reassignment Pending.

I paused mid-motion.

Reassignment?

What?

A flicker of static hummed in the corner of my vision—only perceptible to me.

Not now.

Not during the kill.

Then—

> [System Notification]

❖ Judgment window elapsed.

❖ Execution protocol authorized.

❖ New variable detected: Matriarchal entity approaching.

❖ Alert: Subject Mother flagged. Previously unknown involvement. Target has compromised universal balance.

❖ Sub-directive: Observe Host reaction to combined loss event.

The door creaked.

She entered.

Her voice, gentle and calm—almost holy.

"Aiden, come help me with the soup."

And it hit me.

The flicker of memory.

The hidden sin.

Her hands. Bloody. Whispering lies into the elder brother's ears.

"Protect your brother. Even if it means killing a stranger."

"He must live. He must never know."

She made him do it. The death. The secret. The rupture in the universal chain. She was more than a mother. She was a chess player with her children as pawns.

I turned to her as she saw my eyes—my true eyes—piercing from her youngest son's face.

"What are you—?"

Snap.

Her neck gave way under his hands.

His brother's hands.

Not mine.

I never touched her.

I just stepped out of the way.

Let it happen.

And then I drove my hand through the brother's chest, the system sizzling with approval.

He gasped, blood bubbling up.

His eyes looked at me—not with hate. Not even with fear.

But with a single, soul-breaking thought:

"Why?"

His sister screamed from the doorway, a tray of food crashing to the floor.

I turned to her, still soaked in her brother's blood, her mother's bones crumpled like paper behind me.

She would remember this forever.

He would feel it forever.

Because I left the body in that moment.

I let the real little brother come back—just in time to fall to his knees beside the corpses of the two people he loved most.

I felt his scream tear through the night as I dissolved from that reality.

> [System Notification]

❖ Execution complete.

❖ Emotional rupture successful.

❖ Host memory seal fractured.

❖ Next assignment loading…

❖ Coordinating jump to Universe Theta-7Z.

❖ Target: "The Shepherd of the Worms."

❖ Reason: Feeding an entire orphanage to a dimensionless entity for "clarity of vision."

I smiled as the void consumed me again.

"Next."

---

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