The bright blue light and the lingering musical notes slowly faded, revealing a familiar study room. A clock hung on the wall, its ticking the only sound. Books lined the shelves. In front of the large window stood a large oak desk and the familiar leather chair where Lucid had sat across seven lifetimes. The room now felt quieter, more bland, as if the vibrant life that had once thrummed through Karmen's memories had been drained from it. It was heartbreaking to think that after all he had endured, this empty shell was what remained. Then again, the goal of a trial was not to change the past or the future. It was to close a rift and ensure no lingering danger remained.
Lucid lay sprawled on the expensive rug, managing a faint groan as he lifted himself up slowly and deliberately, as if he had overextended every muscle. He had, in fact, gone through two intense fights before arriving here.
'The beast was easy work. But that man, I still need to get better,' he thought, raising a hand to his head to soothe a faint, throbbing headache.
"I have healed most of your injuries, Lucid, but do not overexert yourself. You can still experience aches and headaches. Your body is not yet fully accustomed to channeling my Fate Essence," Alice communicated within his mind. This internal dialogue was a trait they had recently discovered. It was efficient, avoiding the need to speak aloud like a mentally deranged individual, and it was also quicker.
"Partner! Is your butt sore? Ahaha!" an irritating voice chirped from above him.
Jake stood over Lucid, gesturing with a hand held out to help him up.
Lucid looked at the offered hand, then ignored it, pushing himself to his feet on his own.
"Sorry, I am still working on my landings when conjuring my spells. Haha," Jake laughed, a sheepish sound.
Lucid only looked at him, his expression unreadable.
"Is that so. Hah," Lucid said, the chuckle devoid of humor.
"Yes. Though I am an Awakened, balancing conjuring and physical attributes is hard," Jake began to explain.
As he spoke, a sharp smack pierced the quiet air of the study. Jake stumbled, half-catching himself against the solid oak desk, while Lucid stood as if he had simply delivered a swift, backhanded blow.
"Ouch. Ahah," Jake winced, rubbing his cheek.
"Stop fucking laughing!" Lucid's voice was low, taut with a fury that had been simmering for weeks of subjective time. "Where the hell were you? Do you have any idea what I went through when you disappeared to god knows where?"
"Oh. I can explain," Jake said, his voice growing quieter and less steady.
"Screw that. You are a terrible guide. You break my leg. You explain nothing. You lead me to some cave without exploring it first. You cannot even fight an D-rank Fallen properly, and you just vanish after I saved you by pushing you into that rift!"
Jake smiled slightly, a fragile, sad expression. He adjusted his cap and traced his fingers along the grain of the oak desk, looking out the window at the view of Tyriana beyond the glass.
"Lucid, that is because," Alice tried to reason within his head, her tone pleading.
As Jake traced the familiar desk and the scattered papers that lay upon it, he circled behind the wooden structure to the leather chair. He looked at Lucid, then in one swift motion, tore off his blue cloak. The wide-brimmed hat followed. He sat in the chair, the posture different now, heavier. He placed both hands on the table, his elbows supporting them, his hands clasped just below his chin. He revealed a face that was frightfully, terribly familiar. Crystal blue eyes, now hollow with experience. Black hair that was no longer combed neatly but fell in a messy, weary fashion. Fair skin that looked dry, as if from too many unshed tears.
"No," Lucid said under his breath, the pieces crashing together.
"I had an idea," Alice whispered within him, her voice full of a somber understanding.
The young man in the chair, no longer Jake, looked at Lucid with a gaze that was both tired and piercing, then gentled as he tilted his head slightly to the right.
"What do you mean? I was with you the whole time."
Lucid breathed out through his nose, managing a faint, broken exhale that was almost a chuckle. He laughed, lifting a hand to his own face, which felt suddenly fogged with disbelief and exhaustion.
"So all that heartfelt goodbye was for nothing?" Lucid said, his tone fractured.
"That was the remnant, the Karmen from the original past," the young man, the real Karmen, replied. His voice had shed all theatricality. It was calm, educated, and carried the weight of genuine grief.
During those final moments inside the rift, Lucid had spoken to a version of Karmen, reasoning with him, asking what he truly wanted. That presence had also been the reason he had repeated so many iterations.
"Lucid, when we both went into that rift, I became Karmen again, the old Karmen. But you inhibited it, for reasons I did not fully understand at first," Karmen explained. "I got to relive my past, to see my family again. I also got to experience every path and possibility I never could have conceived of on my own." His voice grew more sincere, imbued with a profound gratitude. "It was as if I was watching a film where I was also a spectator. It was beautiful, tragic, inspiring. I truly cannot thank you enough for it."
Lucid was quiet. He took the seat opposite Karmen, the guest chair in front of the oak desk. He felt a slight stinging in his own eyes. Maybe Karmen was a good actor, or maybe not. Lucid could not help but feel touched by the raw appreciation in the other young man's words.
"No. No problem," he murmured, looking down at his own hands.
"But why did you make me repeat it?" he asked. It was a valid question. In his first cycle, he had ultimately accepted that Karmen's parents would die and had told Ivy to leave, choosing a different path, an option where he was not doomed. That was no less different than the final path, where Lucid had accepted he could not save them and had lived with them for their remaining days, saying a proper goodbye.
"That is because I was selfish," Karmen admitted, his gaze dropping to his clasped hands. "I wanted to see more. I wanted you to suffer through my struggles, to understand the depth of it. But looking back now, I know that was too much, too arrogant of me to ask of you. For that, I apologize. However, there was a part of me that simply wanted to say goodbye properly, and I needed you to be the one to live it with me, to give it meaning."
Karmen expected Lucid to knock over the table, to hurl insults, to accuse him of everything he had endured, which would have been true in theory. But Lucid just sat in the guest chair, his hands now crossed on the table, as if he were nodding, confirming a thought.
"Okay. I understand," Lucid whispered after a long, slow sigh.
Karmen's eyes lit up with surprised relief.
"But you owe me. Double. No, triple for a colleague going rogue and taking on more than was ever expected of me."
Karmen chuckled, a sheepish, genuine sound. Alice laughed within Lucid's mind, a melodious tone of shared relief.
Everyone had reached an understanding. But one thing remained unclear. Why? Why had he gone under this fake alias?
Karmen, noting the lingering discomfort in Lucid's posture, even though his facial features were fogged, knew the question hanging in the air.
"You are wondering why I decided to go by Jake," Karmen stated.
Lucid looked up, as if his mind had been read in that instant.
"Yeah," he said.
"My brother Lyle died without ever realizing his dreams. That cap was a souvenir I bought for him while I was studying in the Kingdom of Vex." Karmen's voice grew softer, threaded with pain. "Though I tried to save him, I could not help but feel guilty. So I put on his hat. I got a cloak like the one he always wanted for traveling. I acted like him. Though I am no brilliant engineer or scientist, I do have a musical side. So I practiced what I liked until my heart was content. Perhaps out of guilt, or regret, I took on his name, his imagined behavior, his dreamed personality. I lived with them, to the bitter end."
By now, a single tear traced a path down Karmen's cheek. He could not help it. He had lost so much. For someone who had lost his entire family, Karmen was a surprisingly optimistic person. Lucid could not say he would be the same, whether he would act similarly if the same thing happened to him. But something similar had happened to him, in a way. It was a distant betrayal, but the wound of that memory felt fresh in his mind.
"I was betrayed by my old party members," Lucid found himself saying, the words surprising even him. "I do not know the reason. I was supposed to die, but I was given a second chance." He looked directly at Karmen. "I met a kind person named Alice who helped and showed me a way, despite her vague advice. However, I have a goal in mind. I will not waste this chance, this once in a lifetime opportunity. I swear I will get back at them."
"You seek revenge?" Karmen asked, his blue eyes searching.
"Yes."
"I seek more than that."
"What is it?"
"Annihilation." The word was cold, final. "I swear upon my mind, I will get back at them."
"Lucid," Karmen said gently, "that is pretty cowardly, if you ask me. A coward only seeks revenge. A brave soul can learn to forgive."
"Forgive what? You do not know the whole story."
"It is true, I do not. But I advise you to seek other options."
Alice managed a faint mental hum of agreement. It was as if Karmen's words were echoing her own unspoken thoughts.
"He is speaking the truth, Lucid," Alice whispered within him.
Lucid shook his head, trying to reason with himself. To him, that vengeance was his only goal, the only thing driving him forward. Letting it go would mean surrendering completely, being trapped in this strange existence without purpose. No, he had to keep that flame, that spark, alive. Aika. He could not forget her. She was first on his list.
He leaned back in the chair, the weight of the conversation settling on him.
"So, the man who attacked us?" Lucid asked, changing the subject back to immediate danger.