The night wind swept through Verlyn with a cold that pierced to the bone. After we exited the Northern Archive passage and made sure no mist-creatures were chasing, we headed to a small inn on the western side of the city—The Mosslane Inn, an old building with oil lamps flickering as if threatening to die.
Even though there were no more explosions or green light in the sky, the unease didn't fade. I could still feel the residual tremor in my head, as if that voice— the foreign whisper calling my name— hadn't completely gone.
Lyona slammed the room door and locked it quickly. She let out a long breath, rolled her shoulders, then looked at me with a sharp but weary gaze.
"Sit," she said, pointing at the wooden chair near the window.
I obeyed.
For a moment we only heard footsteps passing in the hallway outside, and the creak of old wood as the wind slipped through cracks in the walls. Then Lyona opened her mouth, her voice low but biting.
"What happened to you at the plaza earlier?"
I frowned. "You mean…?"
"Don't pretend you don't know, Makoto." Her gaze pierced. "When the dragon dove, you froze. Your eyes… you were looking at something that wasn't in front of you."
I curled my palms, holding back the cold that crawled again from my fingertips.
"…I heard another voice," I finally said. "Not the dragon. Not people. Something that… called me."
Lyona didn't speak right away. She walked slowly, sat on the table across from me, her short sword resting on her lap. The oil lamp's glow made her features look harsher than usual.
"A whisper," she murmured. "I suspected as much. It wasn't the first time you reacted like that."
I swallowed. "You felt it too? At the plaza—"
"Not as clearly as you." Lyona folded her arms. "But there was pressure… a kind of gaze that didn't belong to the dragon."
I bit my lip. "Marchaos."
Lyona froze. For a moment her face didn't move, as if just hearing that name made the air heavier.
"…That name. Again."
"He exists," I whispered. "Or… a part of him. That black shadow… it helped us. But not for us." I looked at the cracked table. "It did it as if it wanted to show something. Not to save."
Lyona breathed deeply. "Makoto. Listen to me." Her hand brushed the edge of my table. "Every time you say that name, your face changes. As if you're remembering someone closer than yourself."
I fell silent.
Because it was true.
Marchaos—Makoto B—was also me. Or perhaps a version of me that hasn't happened. Or that should have happened. Or a future I didn't want to know. Everything felt wrong, yet too familiar.
I tried to explain. "I feel… like a part of me walks on its own. Without my awareness. Like another trail of thought inside my head. But not a hallucination. It has a shape. A will."
Lyona growled softly, suppressing emotion. "I knew you were different. From the first day I saw you in the mist. But if this is going to take you away from yourself…" She stopped her sentence.
I looked at her. "You're afraid I will… change?"
"I'm afraid you will disappear," she replied honestly.
Simple, yet piercing. A sentence that struck deeper than the dragon's roar earlier.
I wanted to respond, but something trembled faintly in the air. Not sound… but a feeling like a cold hand brushing my shoulder. The oil lamp flickered, then dimmed— almost dying.
Lyona stood reflexively, sword raised.
"There's another one."
I stood as well, body tense. But there were no footsteps. No mist-creature. No green dragon light.
There was only… shadow.
In the corner of the room, where light couldn't reach, a black silhouette stood. Unclear. Unmoving. Its form vague, like a man in a long coat. It had no face, yet the shape— the way it stood straight, slightly leaning forward— I recognized it.
Marchaos.
Or Makoto B.
It didn't step forward. Only watched. Like a fragment of a future stuck here, in a reality not its own.
Lyona drew back one step. "Makoto…?"
"I know," I murmured. "Don't move."
The shadow didn't threaten. But its presence pressed the air like invisible eyes weighing on my chest. And as it began to fade, a voice, very faint, almost like breath, was heard:
"He will choose you… or destroy you."
Lyona tensed. "Did… it speak?"
I couldn't answer. Because the voice did not come from the air.
It came from inside my head.
The silhouette faded completely, turning back into cracked darkness.
Silence wrapped the room for a few seconds that felt longer than the battle earlier.
Lyona looked at me with a mix of fear and anger. "Makoto… that's not an ordinary entity. It… knows you. More deeply than you realize."
I lowered my head. "It's… a part of me."
"I know." Her voice was strained but firm. "And I also know it's watching us. Every move we make."
I raised my head. "You… aren't afraid?"
Lyona let out a humorless chuckle. "Afraid? Obviously. But I knew from the start that I was walking with a man who carries two shadows. And if I retreat, who will stop you if you become him?"
I froze.
Lyona stepped closer, leaving only a handspan between us. Her eyes met mine directly, sharp but sincere.
"I'm here not because I must, Makoto. But because I choose to be."
I swallowed, feeling something in my chest I couldn't explain. A mix of relief, fear, warmth, and darkness I didn't recognize.
Then, suddenly—
thud!
A loud sound, like someone dropping something in the hallway.
We instantly turned.
Lyona reached for the door handle. "We're not alone."
I stood beside her, readying the small blue crystal that still held some energy from the Northern Archive.
When she opened the door…
The hallway was empty. Silent.
But on the floor… a slip of paper that wasn't there before.
The edges were burned, yet its writing was clear:
"Central Archive. Midnight. Come alone."
My blood ran cold. Lyona grabbed it before I could, reading it, then looked up with a serious face.
"Makoto. This is a trap."
I nodded slowly. "I know."
"And you'll still go, won't you?"
I closed my eyes briefly.
Marchaos's shadow, his voice, his threat… all becoming clearer.
"Yes," I answered. "Because I can't hide from myself."
Lyona clenched her fist.
"I'm coming with you. I'm not letting you face yourself alone."
I looked at her for a long moment.
And for the first time, I was afraid of losing someone in this world.
"If I change…"
"If you change," Lyona cut in, "I'll be the first to pull you back."
We held each other's gaze. And for a moment, the world outside that room didn't exist.
Only us. And the shadow of Marchaos creeping closer from the edge of reality.
That night, I knew there was no turning back.
The arc had entered its darkness.
And Marchaos…
had finally invited me directly.