Damian’s neck rotated enough to finally let his gaze fall on the source.
’When did–’
And there, just a few meters, sat a figure with its back toward him.
Black energy surrounded its form, like staring into a void that swallowed light.
’Who... is this?’
He tried to make out features, tried to see anything that might identify what he was looking at.
But the black energy made it impossible.
’Is it a Monster?’
The thought came immediately, but he dismissed it.
There were no signs of dimensional tears, spatial distortions or any form of reality warping near him.
The figure just sat there in the snow, like it has been there all along and Damian simply hadn’t noticed until now.
’Then what–’
His breathing remained shallow, his body still locked in place.
But despite the paralysis, despite not knowing who or what this was...
’Why do I feel like this thing isn’t here to hurt me?’
The realization didn’t make sense, everything about this situation should make his instincts scream danger.
’And yet–’
Before he could think further, the figure’s voice emerged from the void-like energy, doubled and layered.
"It’s been a long time since I sat under this sky... How nostalgic."
And suddenly the pressure holding Damian paralyzed vanished completely.
His hand dropped immediately, his legs nearly buckled, and air rushed into his lungs in desperate gasps.
Pant... pant... pant...
His chest heaved, words barely forming as he opened his mouth.
"You... Who are you?"
The figure remained motionless, back still toward Damian.
"Who am I?" The doubled voice carried across the space. "I’ve been wondering about that for a long time. And honestly? I don’t know anymore."
"..."
Silence fell for three heartbeats.
Then the voice continued, taking on a different tone.
"But we both know who you are, don’t we?"
’What is he talking about?’
Damian’s mind raced, trying to understand the implication.
’Does he mean Damian Valcor or–’
The figure spoke again before his thoughts could form.
"Today, when the universe recognized you as a Chosen One of this era..." The voice was soft. "Everyone across the entire universe who had a connection with Fate sensed it. Every seer, every oracle, every being whose existence touches the threads of destiny."
Damian’s blood ran cold as he processed the words being spoken.
’I knew it.’
The thought came bitter and sharp.
’The moment that title appeared, the moment the bell rang across the sky, I knew I was fucked.’
The figure continued, and this time the words hit like physical blows.
"And among those who sensed it..." It paused. "Was the man who killed you in your last life."
"..."
Deathly silence crashed down as even the wind seemed to stop blowing.
Goosebumps erupted across every inch of Damian’s skin, spreading from his scalp down his spine and across his arms.
’He knows!’
The realization settled into his bones like ice.
’He knows about my past life!’
His throat went dry.
’How does he–’
The figure’s voice cut through his spiraling thoughts.
"Beggar’s Chosen One, release all your doubts regarding whether the Hooded One and his side exists or not."
The tone carried absolute certainty.
"They’re as real as you are, and they’ve been alive for many eras."
"You..."
Damian’s voice came out barely above a whisper.
"How... you..."
The words wouldn’t form properly, his mind too scattered to construct coherent sentences.
’He knows... everything. About the beggar, about the hooded figure, about the reincarnation...’
His hands trembled at his sides.
’Who... the fuck is this?’
The figure remained still, back toward Damian, voice emerging from the void-like energy.
"Abandon all your questions. Abandon all your thoughts about how I know what I know."
The tone became firmer.
"You won’t be getting any answers from me. If I say anything more about the mechanics of your situation..." The voice paused. "Fate will only make things worse for you."
’Fate.’
The word echoed in Damian’s mind.
’He’s talking about Fate itself like it’s a conscious entity.’
His breathing came faster, chest rising and falling with barely controlled panic.
The figure stood up slowly, the black energy swirling around its form.
"This game that you’re caught up in, the game of chess between the Beggar and Fate, with you as one of the pieces on the board..."
The voice carried something like exhaustion.
"It has been going on for so long that you can’t even imagine the true scope. Longer than civilizations have existed, longer than some races have walked their worlds."
A pause.
"And tomorrow, it will enter its final stage."
’Tomorrow?’
Damian’s thoughts scattered.
’What happens tomorrow? What’s the final stage?’
The figure turned slightly, still not showing its face, but shifting enough that Damian could see the outline of a head tilting.
"But before it does, before everything reaches the point where no more choices can be made, I’ve come here to give you something."
The voice became quieter, almost gentle.
"A choice."
Thump thump thump
Damian said nothing, just waited, his heart hammering against his ribs.
"A choice that no one ever gave you."
The figure’s form seemed to shimmer in the black energy.
"A choice that you’ve always wanted, even if you never admitted it to yourself."
Another pause, heavier than before.
"A choice that will finally give you the peace your soul deeply craves..."
The voice dropped to barely above a whisper.
"A choice... to leave this game."
’Leave the... game?’
Damian’s mind went blank for a moment.
’How? What does that even mean?’
His lips moved, trying to form the question, but the figure continued before sound could emerge.
"I can send you back to your past life as Alessio."
The words hung in the frozen air like a death sentence.
"Back to the moment before the Beggar’s manipulation truly began. And I can make certain he never touches that life again and never interferes with the natural flow of events."
"Wh-what?"
The word barely made it past Damian’s lips, his mind struggling to process what he was hearing.
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