Eira's lashes fluttered before his vision cleared, and the first thing he saw was white.
Not snow.
Silk.
He was lying with his head resting on soft fabric, the faint scent of frost lilies filling his lungs. For a moment he thought he had died and woken inside some celestial realm. Then warmth brushed his hair.
He froze.
Slowly—very slowly—he tilted his gaze upward.
The Snow Goddess was looking down at him.
Her expression was neither distant nor divine in that moment. It was gentle. Almost… amused.
Eira jolted upright so fast his vision spun. The sword clattered beside him, heavy as a mountain again. His breath caught when he noticed someone sitting cross-legged a few steps away.
The villain.
Alive.
Not chained.
Not wounded.
Not threatening.
Just… sitting there.
And smiling.
"Yo," the man said casually, raising a hand like they were old friends meeting in a marketplace. "You finally woke up."
Eira scrambled back, hand flying toward the sword, heart slamming against his ribs. His instincts screamed danger. His body remembered the suffocating pressure of darkness, the bone-crushing force of their clash, the way his strength had been swallowed whole.
"You—" His voice came out hoarse. "Why aren't you dead?"
The man tilted his head thoughtfully. "Hmm. Good question. I was wondering that too."
Eira's eyes snapped to the goddess.
She didn't answer immediately. She simply watched the two of them, silver lashes lowered slightly as if observing children who had just finished fighting.
"Do not fear him," she said softly.
Her voice was snow falling over still water.
"He is not yet the calamity he is destined to become."
The words made the air feel heavier.
Eira frowned. "Not yet…?"
She inclined her head.
"In the future that should have been, this man falls into true darkness. Betrayed. Cornered. Stripped of everything that tethered him to light. His companions abandon him. The king declares him a threat and orders his death. Those who try to save him are executed. And when he learns of their fate…"
Her eyes dimmed slightly.
"He breaks."
Silence spread.
Even the wind seemed to pause to listen.
"He chooses ruin," she continued. "He decides that if the world fears monsters… he will become one. That only he shall hold power. That kings will kneel. That no dragon hero shall ever surpass him."
Eira slowly looked at the man again.
The villain scratched his cheek awkwardly. "Wow. I sound cool."
Eira stared at him in disbelief.
"You're insane."
"Probably," the man agreed cheerfully.
The goddess went on, unbothered. "But that future has not happened yet. The king has not marked him. His friends have not betrayed him. His heart has not shattered."
Her gaze softened, though a shadow lingered beneath it.
"This battle occurred too soon."
Eira's grip on the sword loosened.
"So… he's not evil yet?"
"He walks the edge," she replied. "And he is bound to the Goddess of Darkness. He does not serve her. He embodies her. That is why he did not perish. You cannot kill night by striking the shadow."
The villain leaned back on his hands, grinning at the sky.
"I like that. 'You can't kill night.' I should carve that somewhere dramatic."
Eira felt a chill crawl down his spine.
Originally… this man was supposed to face Ark and Neo together. Supposed to be defeated only through a special light artifact that sealed darkness itself.
But now—
He had fought him alone.
And lost.
The realization settled like cold iron in his chest.
The villain suddenly stood, stretching lazily. "Anyway, I should get going."
Eira stiffened. "You're leaving?"
"Yeah." He shrugged. "That fight definitely caught attention. Kings, spies, annoying heroes… all that stuff. I just learned I'm not as invincible as I thought." His grin sharpened. "Which means I need to get stronger before I pick another fight."
He looked directly at Eira.
"And I will pick another fight."
There was no threat in his tone.
Just excitement.
"I like you," he added. "You didn't break immediately. That's rare."
Eira didn't reply.
Didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
The man turned, then paused as if remembering something. "Oh right."
He tossed something lightly.
Eira caught it by reflex.
A small black crystal.
It pulsed once—like a heartbeat.
"A souvenir," the villain said. "So you don't forget me."
The air around him darkened, shadows folding inward like wings. For a split second, something vast and feminine seemed to stand behind him—eyes like collapsing stars.
Then both vanished.
Gone.
Only silence remained.
Eira stared at the crystal in his palm, unease crawling under his skin.
"He will return," the Snow Goddess said quietly. "And next time… he will be closer to the man he is fated to become."
Eira swallowed.
"…And me?"
Her gaze rested on him.
"You," she said, "must grow faster than fate."
The weight of those words pressed deeper than any blade.
Far away, beyond mountains and kingdoms, a storm was already gathering.
And it had just learned Eira's name.