Chapter 61: 48 - Illusion III
Those words hit my chest harder than a shout.
"You were also fooled, Kairi."
I was silent. Then, calmly—testing a name.
"Does ’Selene’ ring a bell to you?"
My language trembled, but it was too late to take it back.
Helena replied without hesitation.
"Selene? Isn’t she your younger sister?"
...And that’s where the world crumbled.
She knew.
So this wasn’t the same scenario.
Helena... didn’t die.
Mytheia... didn’t explode.
The school... continued to function.
This was the best world.
But...
The best world shouldn’t exist.
Because if this is the best world, and I’m still here...
I knew from the start that this would happen.
Every plot point, every interaction, even the doubtful expression in her eyes—I had already written them in my transcription. Helena was too intelligent to be left alive.
Too aware to be numbed by the lies I had woven.
And now, she spoke that name.
"Selene? Isn’t she... your younger sister?"
That sentence sealed her fate.
I didn’t answer. I only stepped forward slowly, pulling up my sleeve, then tearing the inside of my cuff, revealing a red thread attached to my skin like a brand.
A small rune glowed.
"Authorization confirmed. Transcription accepted."
I opened a small book. Its pages were not made of paper. But of alchemically tanned skin—magic-resistant, blood-resistant.
Transcription: Helena Myra Lovecraft.
Condition: Irreversible.
Rewrite: Subject has seen too much.
Action: Erase via blood.
I flicked my fingers.
Helena was thrown against the wall, her body crashing into a shelf of crystals, creating a clang of glass and metal. She rose—staggering—looking at me with confusion wrapped in pain.
"...Kairi? You..."
"Me? I’m just correcting the script," I replied lightly.
My hand rose. From the book, a thin shadow emerged like a thread of ink extending and coiling towards me—forming a blade of obsidian.
Not large. Not flashy. But sharp enough to divide between ’still alive’ and ’must be erased’.
She tried to fight back. Magic was cast—shields, light attacks, even sealing spells. But I had already written everything down. Every defense of Helena’s was a sentence I had read the night before.
I slashed her legs first. Knocking her down. Then her hands—so she couldn’t cast spells.
Her scream echoed, but the door had been locked by a seal called "Narrative Isolation."
Then, I sat on her.
Drenched in blood. Her breaths were short, her chest rising and falling rapidly—panic, fear, anger, all mixed together.
"Why... why are you doing this... we could..."
"Because," I whispered in her ear, "if you live, the cycle doesn’t run. If you live, then Mytheia doesn’t explode. Then I... never evolve."
My hand plunged the dagger into her solar plexus.
But slowly.
I wanted her to feel—that her life was rewritten not by chance, but because I decided so. That she lost... because she was destined to lose to me.
"Discard: Helena Myra Lovecraft."
One final stab. Right in the neck.
Blood gushed out. Her last breath escaped as a choked sound.
"You were never the author, Kairi... just the pen."
Her eyes slowly lost their light.
I hugged her body, just for a moment.
As a tribute to an opponent who almost won.
Then I stood up. Leaving her lying in that room. The book in my hand closed on its own.
The last page read:
"Chapter closed. Kairi continues the narrative."
* * *
Tch.
The recording stopped.
Light from Mytheia burst forth like an overly strong heartbeat.
And in front of me—myself. Looking at Helena. Reading. Rewriting.
"Transcription. Rewrite. Discard Helena."
My voice in the recording sounded... not like me. Or perhaps too much like me. Too aware. Too precise. No hesitation. No mercy. Only one thing:
Decision.
Then, Helena’s body convulsed violently—her magic veins shattered like threads of glass. Blood spurted. A stifled scream. Her spine arched in the wrong direction.
Her body fell, hitting the table. Broken. Stiff.
"Stop—"
"THERE IS NOTHING TO STOP!"
My voice roared in the recording. But not angry. Just... final.
I froze. Selene too. The Mytheia crystal in front of me trembled softly, as if reluctant to continue.
But the recording kept playing. Nothing could stop recorded time.
"I knew from the start. About this power. Transcription. Rewrite. Discard. I was just waiting until the time was right. And now—everything is according to the script. My script."
The voice in the recording hissed, then stopped. Mytheia dimmed.
Silence.
I sat down slowly. Not out of exhaustion. But because there was nowhere to stand after witnessing myself like that.
"Kairi... that... was you."
Selene spoke softly, as if still unable to accept reality.
"I know," I replied. "And the worst part... I don’t even feel guilty."
I looked at my fingers. There was no blood there. But the warm sensation still lingered.
Psychological. Not physical.
"I didn’t look away. Because that would mean something still mattered."
"You... knew about that ability from the beginning?"
Selene’s voice trembled. She was afraid. For the first time, she was afraid of me.
"Of course," I said with a small smile. "Did you think I would come into this world without bringing my own pen? This world has rules... but I’ve always had corrections."
Selene fell silent. Then finally said, in a voice like an echo shattered by algorithms:
"Kairi... I think... you’re no longer human."
I glanced at Mytheia. My gaze met my own reflection—blank, fractured, eerily calm.
And I laughed. Softly. Quietly.
Not because it was funny.
Not because I was happy.
But because something finally clicked.
It’s not who I am that matters.
It’s how far I can rewrite everything—before the world notices... and rewrites me back.
"Well, sure. I would’ve held back... if any of this was going to be revealed."
I tilted my head. "Go ahead. Call me a monster."
Selene smiled weakly and leaned against my shoulder, her voice soft.
"Sure, Kairi... my little monster."
"Hey, I was being serious. Or did you just—"
Try not to?
I felt her hands trembling. Not from fear, exactly.
But from the sheer weight of the choice she’d made—to stand beside me.
"Yes, you were right. I lied. I was afraid... afraid you’d become this."
She held me tighter, like a child clinging to what little certainty remained.
"It’s alright," she whispered.
"I’m still here. I never chose to stop you... because I chose you."
I patted her hair gently, like a mother would do to her daughter.
And just like that, the warmth slipped away again.
"Anyway," I said, my voice returning to flatline, "we need to seal Mytheia. Now."
She was still frozen, her face pale, her eyeballs rolling as if searching for another dimension to escape to. But I knew she would understand. And sure enough—her response wasn’t a question, not a denial.
She immediately stood up, swung her palm in the air, and summoned her personal sigil seal.
"I can create a five-layered Enchant Seal. But if the Association gets directly involved... standard seals won’t be enough."
"That’s why," I replied, touching the surface of Mytheia, "let me rewrite its structure."
"What do you mean?"
"This Mytheia... I can still transcribe it. Not its contents, but its interface. I can change its recording function into a kind of dummy—a recording that looks real, but the content is fake. Noise, unreadable symbols. A kind of false recording from a ’mental test’ simulation."
Selene narrowed her eyes. "You’re talking about the unforgeable-fake simulation?"
I smiled. "A classic from the Izumi Group, isn’t it?"
She nodded, finally offering a wry smile. "I hate the way you manipulate the system, but... I admit, I’m relieved you’re on my side now."
Both our hands moved quickly. Seal after seal was etched, layered with transcription spells. I rewrote Mytheia’s main reading path—not deleting the data, but burying it behind a thousand false keywords and one keyword only I knew.
"KEY: BLACKWITCH. LOCK."
Mytheia groaned softly. Its crystal shone darkly before finally freezing in a dim glow.
Selene took a breath. "Done. Now we...?"
"Play dumb," I replied. "Helena is still alive in the data. But she won’t be able to say much if her body is sealed with critical recovery magic. We’ll use that time to prepare for interrogation."
"And if Mytheia is successfully confiscated?"
"If they can open that recording, it means there’s someone else who can also rewrite reality. And if that’s the case... we’ve lost from the beginning."
We stared at each other. No more smiles. No more sly winks.
Just a postponed war.
"Alright, let’s go back to where we are supposed to be." I said, my voice flat.
"Fair enough. I suppose it’s for the best. Thank you for everything, Kairi."
"No need to mention it. I should be the one who thanked you."
Selene then hugged me tightly and Void Rifter was pulsing, ready to take us embarking the future no... more like a new destination after we reversed the space.
