I felt Anderson's sword tear through my chest on its way out—felt the faint shhk of metal leaving flesh—and then the numb weight of my body collapsing backward. When I turned, his face was already twisting into a grin, laughter spilling out in ugly, triumphant bursts.
I tried to call the blood, to shape it, to drag him toward me and rip him apart. But he kicked me in the ribs, hard, and sprinted for the cave mouth, scrambling up the jagged wall.
By the time his boots vanished into the dark, I was alone—bleeding out on the filthy stone floor of a forgotten cave somewhere deep in the dream realm, beside the cooling corpse of someone I once called a friend.
My chest was empty. Literally empty. Without a heart, blood manipulation felt like trying to move the ocean by whispering at the tide. Useless. And the sound of rushing water above me—the Dark Tide—grew louder each passing breath.
It was coming. It would flood this cavern. And it would drown what was left of me.
I tried to think. I tried to plan. But my thoughts were slipping, thinning. I knew I had seconds before unconsciousness—before death. Summoning Beast wouldn't work; he was too far. My other memories were pointless. Nothing in them could replace a missing heart.
Which left only two things I hadn't tested yet:
The memory stolen from the Lord of the Dead.
And the reward from the second seal of my Aspect Legacy.
I summoned both.
Even those few seconds felt like dragging myself through glass. My body twitched with pain so sharp it felt almost electric. Then:
A white cloak materialized and wrapped around me—useless.
And a thick red mass appeared in front of me—not useless.
It shot into the hole in my chest.
Agony followed, sharp and total. A voice screamed in my skul—
"FUCK, FUCK, FUCK—what the HELL is this damage—why is EVERYTHING BROKEN—oh damn it, I gotta fix all this FAST—what the actual fu—"
Then the world blinked.
---
A red moon hung overhead, bathing the ocean of my soul in crimson. I drifted there alone, suspended above the quiet water—until the rasping voice returned.
"Hey, asshole. You awake yet?"
I spun around instinctively, but saw no one.
"Down here, genius. I'm literally inside you. Trying to rebuild your organs. Y'know—your heart? The thing you exploded?"
One glance down showed a pulsing red-and-black mass squirming inside my chest cavity like a makeshift heart grafted from hunger and fury.
"…First, stop calling me 'asshole.' Second, who the hell are you? And third—why are you in my Soul Sea?"
"Tch. Asshole fits you perfectly. Didn't even let me introduce myself before you shoved me into emergency surgery. And I didn't hear a thank you, by the way."
The voice huffed.
"I'm your Arch Sin of Gluttony. Obviously. Judging from the fact I'm the only Sin awake, I'm your first one. And I'm in your Soul Sea because you and I are partners now. Whether I like it or not."
"Partners?" I muttered.
"Yup like those little echos of yours except I'm way cooler."
I frowned.
"…How do you know about echoes?"
"Oh, I rummaged through your memories," Gluttony said casually. "And WOW. You were busy in your past life as Sebastian, weren't you? Real generous lover—"
"Shut up. Shut up RIGHT NOW."
He burst into hysterical laughter.
"Kidding! I didn't look at your… bedtime activities. I was figuring out how your whole system works. I mean, I was literally born yesterday."
"Wait—how long have I been unconscious?"
"Day and a half. You'll need another half day before waking up."
At least I had company.
"Nope," he said instantly. "I'm busy rebuilding your organs. Soooo… bye."
Of course.
I waited in silence, watching the crimson tide ripple below. Hours passed. Strangely, Gluttony didn't speak again.
So I called for him.
"Hey, you still alive in there? Can I wake up yet?"
His voice came back—but panicked. Truly panicked.
"Whatever you do—don't look up. Don't look up, don't EVER look up. Got it? Just—DON'T."
"…Why?"
"DON'T LOOK UP!"
The world convulsed.
---
I Awoke
Face-first on cold stone.
Someone exhaled lightly above me. Not Gluttony.
Someone else.
"Oh? Finally awake?"
A voice smooth, mocking, ancient.
"Good. Good. Now then… little Sin… be polite and look at me when I speak."
I froze. I knew that voice.
The Sinner of Wrath.
My muscles locked. Something in that voice made instinct scream, don't look up.
"Hmm? Cat got your tongue?"
A smile pressed into each syllable.
"I said… look. At. Me."
Thousands of unseen eyes pressed against my skin, studying me with clinical hunger. My breath shook.
"Fine," Wrath murmured. "I tried to be polite. Don't say I didn't warn you."
A massive hand—cold and impossibly heavy—grabbed me by the spine and slammed me into the wall. My lungs emptied in a single silent cough. I clenched my eyes shut, terrified that even a glimpse would unravel my mind.
"Ohhh… impressive," Wrath crooned.
"You defy my command twice. And you still refuse to open your eyes. Admirable, really."
His tone sharpened.
"But not admirable enough to let you live."
My arm twisted. Bones snapped like brittle reeds.
"AGHHH—!"
"There it is," he purred. "A voice at last."
Then my legs were torn away.
I couldn't help it—I opened my eyes for half a second.
Far too long.
Reality broke like thin glass.
[FAIL SAFE ACTIVATED]
[FAIL SAFE BREACHED]
[MANDATORY FAILURE PROTOCOL]
My eyes burst in a spray of blood.
Wrath chuckled.
"Ohhh. I see. So that's what you are."
A pause.
"Well then. Congratulations, little Sin. You get to survived."
My limbs reattached themselves, sliding into place with wet clicks. Muscles rewove. Nerves reconnected. Healed—instantly.
Wrath's voice curled around me like smoke made of knives.
"So… how about a deal? Just you and me."
A thousand invisible smiles sharpened.
"I promise it will be… mutually beneficial."