As darkness claimed him, Rafael closed his eyes. Then— A voice. Calm. Cold. Female. "So this is how you die." Rafael's eyes snapped open. He was no longer in the cave.
He sat on the cold floor of a vast, empty void, darkness stretching endlessly in every direction. Iron bars surrounded him—a cage, tall and unyielding. Chains etched with faint crimson runes hung from above, humming softly with power.
Rafael slowly looked up. She stood beyond the bars.
Veleina.(Goddess of death)
Her presence alone bent the air. Long raven hair flowed unnaturally, untouched by the wind. Her eyes glowed a dull, deathly violet— merciless. She regarded him as one might regard a broken tool. "How disappointing," she said flatly. "Two lives, and you end them both the same way. Achieving nothing. Saving no one."
Her lips curled faintly. "All those goals. All those vows. And yet—you die before fulfilling even one." Rafael's hands trembled. Anger surged, hotter than pain ever had. He rose to his feet and stepped forward until the bars pressed against his chest. "You don't get to say that," he snapped.
"You have no idea what it's like—you have no idea what it takes just to survive in that world. You sit on your throne and judge like it's a game."
Veleina's eyes narrowed slightly, amused.
Rafael clenched his fists, his voice cracking—not with fear, but with grief and fury. Then he spoke.
"I know why you're here. You don't need to say it. I can see it in your eyes—
the tally, the judgement, the weight of everything I failed to stop. I failed. Not because fate was cruel. Not because the world was unfair.
I failed because I was weak.
I made promises I had no right to make. I swore I would protect them, save them, stand until the end— when I couldn't even stand against myself. I hated the idea of being powerless, so I lied and called it hope. I hated being afraid, so I dressed it up as patience. And every time it mattered… I hesitated.
People trusted me. They believed in the version of me I pretended to be. And I let them pay the price for that lie. I told them I would come back. I told them I wouldn't let death take them.
And yet— here we are.
Because I wasn't strong enough. Because I wasn't fast enough. Because when the moment demanded resolve, all I had was fear. I hate myself for that. I hate that I wanted to be a hero without earning it. I hate that I thought willpower could replace strength. I hate that I thought saying I promise meant anything coming from me.
If you're here to punish me, then do it. I won't argue. I won't beg. Because no sentence you pass on me will ever be enough to atone for what I've done."
Silence followed. The cage rattled softly as the last words faded. Veleina stared at him—not mocking now. Not amused. Interested. For the first time, her expression shifted. "…How curious," she murmured.
The goddess of death stepped closer to the bars, her gaze piercing straight through him. "Tell me, Rafael," she said quietly, "if I gave you another chance… would you dare to pay the price this time?"
Rafael laughed bitterly. "And what difference would it make?" he asked. "You'd only send me back to die again." Veleina's gaze softened—not with kindness, but with certainty. "This time," she said, "you will not return empty-handed."
She stepped closer to the cage. "I will send you back with a blessing. A gift that will undoubtedly make a difference."
Rafael hesitated a bit, then he remembered all the promises he had made. "Yes," he said immediately. "Send me back." More than anything—more than fear, more than doubt—he wanted another chance. And this time, he wouldn't be alone. The backing of a goddess ignited confidence deep within him.
Veleina raised a hand. "Then put this on." A ring appeared in the air between them. Gold, polished and radiant, with a thin band of silver spiralling around it like a binding seal. Rafael reached out and slipped it onto his finger without a second thought. "Now send me back," he said firmly. "It's time to make things right." Veleina smiled faintly.
"My blessing will reveal itself when you are reborn," she said. Then, almost casually, she added, "Oh—and that ring means we're married. Never take it off. If you do, you'll lose access to my blessing." Rafael's eyes widened. "Married—?"
She snapped her fingers. Rafael gasped. His eyes flew open. He was back in the cave. His body was whole. The pain was gone—replaced by deep, jagged scars where fatal wounds had been moments before. A fire burned nearby, casting long shadows across unfamiliar stone. He had been dragged deeper into the cave.
He sat up. Across from him stood the man, the butcher, the one who had killed him. He loomed over Malrek's unmoving body, laughing hysterically. Rafael stood. The laughter stopped. The man turned slowly. The color drained from his face. He staggered back, eyes wide, lips trembling. "H—how…?"
Rafael looked down at his hands. They felt… different. Stronger. Heavier. As if something vast had settled into his bones. Reborn, he realized. A quiet smile spread across his face. "I get it now," he murmured. He raised his hand. Darkness answered.
A black shadow poured from his palm, thick and alive, shaping itself into a massive arm forged from the void. It wrapped around the man's body, lifting him effortlessly into the air. Rafael felt it move as naturally as his own limb. An extension of his will. The man screamed, thrashing helplessly. "W-what monster have you become?!"
Rafael's expression remained calm. "Any last words?" he asked. The shadow tightened. Bones crushed. Flesh ruptured. The man exploded in a wet, final snap. A scream echoed briefly—then silence. A stream of pale essence tore free from the remains and was drawn into the crystal in Rafael's pocket, pulsing violently before settling.
Rafael exhaled. He clenched his fist, the shadow dissolving into nothing. "I'm ready," he said quietly, eyes burning with resolve.
"For the worst this world has to offer."