The echo of Gajeel's footsteps faded down the library halls.
Only then did Albion let himself collapse.
He slid down against the shelf and curled in on himself, knees drawn tight to his chest, arms wrapped around them like a shield. For a moment, he just stayed there, breathing shallowly, staring at nothing.
Gajeel's words came back uninvited.
'And if you can't live like that? Then you're no wizard at all. Blame your own pride for keeping you weak.'
Albion's lips twisted into a sour line.
"What do you know, anyway…" he muttered to the empty air. "You're just some cocky guy who happened to be born with a strong body."
Yeah. He knew he was talking to himself.
'…Seriously. I hate that guy.'
He tugged his purple hoodie over his head and buried his face into his arms. His eyes slipped shut, and with nothing left to distract him, his thoughts turned inward.
To the past.
To himself.
Before he realized it, he was sinking into memories he never meant to touch.
'I don't have a father.'
'I can't remember him. I don't even know who he was.'
'As far back as my memory goes… I never had parents.'
'Well… I do have a mother. But I guess what I mean is, I don't have any blood parents.'
'I'm not sure how I know that. I just do.'
'It's like how a newborn somehow knows who to cry out to.Or how you instinctively know something is wrong before you understand why.'
His thoughts drifted.
'Anyway… what was I saying?'
Oh. Right.
An image surfaced in his mind.
A laboratory.
'The earliest memory I can recall is being trapped inside some kind of container.'
'I didn't know how I got there. I didn't know who I was. I didn't even know why I existed.'
'There were people outside the glass. Men and women in white coats.'
'Scientists… I think.'
His memory stuttered, replaying voices in broken pieces.
"Are you certain? I was under the impression that lineage was eradicated four hundred years ago."
"I'm positive. He fits the criteria perfectly."
"But how can you tell? According to the records, they're almost indistinguishable from humans."
"The eyes. Their pigmentation is never uniform. Each subject displays a unique blend of colors."
"And once they reach maturity, they develop what can only be described as an 'otherworldly' appearance."
'That's… about as much as I can remember.'
'It's hard to explain what my mind was like back then. It felt like a dream. A distant one. Like I was there, but not really awake.'
'I stayed in that container for a long time.'
' One day, everything changed.'
The memory of a shrill alarm tore through his thoughts.
'The laboratory was attacked. I don't know why they came. I don't know what they were looking for.'
'There were three of them. Two boys… and a girl, I think.'
'Their faces were blurred. But one of them wore strange clothing.'
'Almost like a ninja. They defeated the scientists.'
'Then, The girl betrayed her own allies.'
'She ended their lives without hesitation. I still don't understand why she did it.'
'I still wonder what she was thinking.'
But one moment stood out, clearer than all the rest.
'She looked at me and said—'
"You don't even have a name, do you?"
"…Albion."
'I think that's how I got my name.'
'Then she said something else.'
"You may call me Mother."
'There's no way I could ever forget that day.'
'After all…'
'It was the day I met the woman I now call mother.'
"Hnn…" Albion groaned softly as his eyes fluttered open. "Eh?"
A blank expression slowly spread across his face.
Without turning his head, he scanned his surroundings. He stood in a vast, open expanse that seemed to stretch endlessly in every direction.
"Wasn't I just in the library?" he muttered. "How did I get here…?"
Looking down, he realized the ground beneath him wasn't truly ground at all. It was a perfectly dark surface—so black it swallowed light.
He lowered his hand and touched it.
"…What is this?"
The surface rippled gently under his fingers.
It wasn't solid. But it wasn't quite liquid either.
There was resistance, like water, but heavier. Thicker.
"…It feels like water."
Slow ripples spread outward from where his hand disturbed the surface.
"So it is water…" Albion said quietly. "But… It's so dark. Pitch black… Black water, I guess."
He stood up from the strange liquid and slowly turned his head from side to side.
"There aren't any walls… no horizon…"
His voice echoed faintly into nothingness.
"Everything just stretches forever…"
Curiosity tugged at him, and he finally looked up.
High above, hanging in the endless sky, was something that resembled a sun.
Except it did not shine.
Its center was hollow, an empty void, like a massive, unblinking eye staring down from the heavens. The outer shell was pure white, almost painfully pale… yet somehow, it was the only source of light in this world.
The glow it gave off was unnatural.
Everything below was perfectly visible, yet nothing cast a shadow.
"Woah…"
But Albion's gaze wasn't fixed on the strange sun.
Wrapped around half of the hollow sphere was something else.
"…An Eastern dragon?!"
His eyes lit up, practically sparkling.
"But I thought dragons were just bedtime stories…"
The dragon's body was long and serpentine, coiling through the sky with slow, deliberate grace. Four slender limbs extended from its scaled form, each ending in talons that never touched anything.
Its scales were white like porcelain, mirroring the sun itself, yet faintly translucent, as if the dragon were made of light and mist rather than flesh.
"…Why isn't it circling the sun completely?" Albion murmured.
The dragon traced only half of the hollow sun's orbit.
No closer. No farther.
Its path was precise—unnervingly perfect—as if guarding a balance that could never be disturbed.
After a moment, the awe faded from Albion's face. His expression slowly settled back into its usual calm neutrality.
"I thought dragons were just myths…" he muttered to himself as he began walking in a random direction.
"So why is one here?"
He paused to himself.
"And more importantly…"
"…Why am I here?"
At that exact moment, a familiar voice called out from somewhere behind Albion.
"Hey there… King."
Albion froze.
His eyes went wide, his mouth parting slightly, pure shock mixed with sudden, sickening realization.
A woman's words echoed in his mind.
'Your life belongs to me.'
Slowly, he turned around, his expression still frozen in disbelief.
She stood there.
About 5'7" (170 cm), average height.
Lean and wiry, the kind of body built through discipline and training. Not soft, not bulky. Quietly strong.
Her long black hair was shaggy, tied into a low, messy ponytail. Loose strands framed her face and neck.
And her eyes?
Deep. Pitch black.
Another memory clawed its way to the surface.
'I suppose you and I will curse one another.'
'I… I don't understand…' Albion thought, his mind reeling. 'How… why is she here?'
Noticing his expression, the woman tilted her head slightly.
"What's wrong, Albion?" she asked. "By that look on your face, you seem completely shocked."
His mother's voice.
'Her voice. Her appearance… everything about her is the same,' Albion thought.
'Could it really be…?'
Then, like a bullet, every memory he had of his mother tore through his mind.
'Someone like you could never be my son.'
The words echoed again. And again. And again.
Slowly, Albion's expression twisted.
"…Who are you?"
"Hm?" The woman blinked. "What are you talking about? Don't tell me you forgot me already?"
"…Everything about you," Albion said quietly, his voice trembling with restrained fury,
"the way you talk… the way you move… it's all exactly the same as her."
He stared at her.
Rage burned through his eyes.
"But my heart… and my soul… reject you completely!"
His voice cracked as he screamed.
"Now answer me already!"
"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!"
"Heh… heh… haha… hahaha—"
A laugh slipped out.
Controlled at first, then cracking and breaking.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
The sound was unhinged. While at the same time being manic.
"Tch—now that's just creepy," his 'mother' said casually.
She grabbed her own skin.
And tore.
It peeled away like fabric.
"You wanna know who I am?"
Albion stood frozen as the thing before him ripped its own flesh apart as if it were a costume.
"I have no name!"
With a wet, tearing sound, it ripped off its own face.
"It can't be…" Albion whispered, his eyes wide in horror.
"Y-you're…"
"…me?"
The being standing before Albion was unlike anything he had ever seen.
At first glance, it was unmistakably Albion.
They shared the same height, frame, posture, and silhouette, so similar that, from a distance or in dim light, one could easily be mistaken for the other.
But up close, the differences became impossible to ignore.
Where Albion's hair was black and smooth, this Albion's was stark white, an unnatural, bone-pale shade that stood out violently against the darkness of the inner world.
The hair was uneven and irregular, with strands of varying lengths that looked roughly cut rather than styled. Some locks fell longer around his face and neck, while others jutted out at crooked angles, giving him a feral, broken symmetry.
His eyes burned a deep, unsettling red, vivid and alert, as if they were always watching, always aware.
His skin was pale to the point of looking drained of life. The colorless pallor contrasted sharply with his red eyes and white hair, giving him a corpse-like quality.
Thin, dark stitches ran across his lips, crudely binding his mouth shut.
The stitching wasn't neat or surgical. It looked hurried and cruel, the thread biting into raw skin.
This Albion also wore the inverse of Albion's usual outfit.
Where Albion wore a loose, deep-purple hoodie, this one wore a tight, short-sleeved top in a pale, washed-out white.
The fabric clung to his frame instead of draping over it, leaving his arms exposed.
Where Albion wore simple black trousers, the other Albion wore light-colored pants that fit just a little too tightly around the legs.
Where Albion walked barefoot, this Albion wore shoes, dark, worn, and scuffed. Heavy.
"They say all for one, and one for all," the white Albion spoke at last. "Yin and yang. Two halves of the same whole."
"I am you. You are me."
He tilted his head slightly.
"Humans love their little sayings. They make contradictions sound beautiful."
"I–I don't understand," Albion said. "How are you… me?"
"Call it philosophy. Call it fate," White Albion replied, idly twirling one of his uneven strands of hair. "No matter how you dress it up, the truth doesn't change."
"We share the same shape. We were born from the same shadow. We look the same, that part is true."
His red eyes narrowed. "But the way we look at her? That's where you're weak."
"…" Albion fell silent.
"You look at her and hesitate," White Albion continued. "Your feelings about that worm change every time you breathe."
"Some days you hate her. Some days you almost forgive her. I never do."
He stopped playing with his hair and hooked his thumb toward his own chest.
"I don't. I despise that worm with every fiber of my being."
"That's the difference between us."
He muttered something under his breath.
The moment Albion heard the word worm, his eyes went wide. His pupils trembled, and his brows knitted tight with hatred and pain.
"I can't help but wonder why…" White Albion mused to himself. "Perhaps it's because you represent the human part or our blood, while I represent—"
"What was that?" Albion ground his teeth. "I'm not sure I heard you right."
A smile slowly formed across White Albion's face.
The stitches along his lips pulled and split. A thin line of blood beaded, then trailed down his chin.
"Oh? What was that?" White Albion cupped a hand to his ear mockingly. "I didn't quite catch that."
"If you dare make fun of my mother again," Albion snarled, his voice echoing across the endless dark, "you're going to pay for it!"
"I'll say it a thousand times," White Albion replied, his smile widening. "Your mother was worthless. And so are you—for still caring about her!"
The stitches tore further. Blood spilled freely down his chin.
"Don't overestimate the value of one life- especially when your own life is practically worthless."
"Nrrgh…!"
With a furious grunt, Albion rocketed off the surface of the black water. The force of his launch sent massive ripples surging outward.
He shot forward like a missile, fist drawn back, then closed the distance in an instant.
A sharp crack echoed as a wave of black water exploded outward from where they collided.
"Good," White Albion said, smiling as he caught Albion's fist in his palm. "Use that anger."
"In this world, compassion is unnecessary."
He drew back his free hand into a fist.
At the same time, Albion, still burning with rage, pulled back his own.
"When one gives in to rage," White Albion whispered, eyes gleaming, "That is when they are at their most powerful."
Their fists met in a sharp clash, knuckle to knuckle.
The black water beneath them trembled, sending a small wave rippling outward. A heartbeat later, another wave surged as Albion raised his arm to block White Albion's follow-up strike.
"I'm gonna win," Albion growled through clenched teeth. "I'm most definitely gonna crush you!"
He leapt, twisting his torso midair and snapping out a kick.
A sharp crack rang out as White Albion caught the kick in one hand.
"You have fun with that!" White Albion laughed, genuinely amused. "Meanwhile, I'll have fun breaking you down!"
While his foot was still gripped, he clenched his other hand into a fist and drove it forward, only for White to stop it.
"And then I'll build you from the ground up!"
With brutal ease, White Albion lifted him by the foot and fist he had caught.
'Oh crap!'
Using both hands, he slammed Albion down into the black water. A massive wave erupted into the air.
Albion sank beneath the surface, his body floating in the dark.
'Am I… am I going to lose again?' The thought twisted in his chest. 'No… I don't want that. I want to win…!'
A hand suddenly plunged into the water.
It grabbed his hoodie and yanked him up just enough for him to gasp for air.
Then, in one smooth motion, White Albion dashed around him and dragged him back under.
"Hahahahaha!" White Albion's laughter echoed wildly.
With a violent swing, he hurled Albion forward, sending him flying several feet into the air.
"Right now, you're a zero," White Albion said coldly. "Someone who can't even reach one."
He kicked off the black water's surface and shot upward, closing the distance in an instant.
White Albion drove a crushing kick straight into Albion's gut.
Albion choked out spit as the blow sent him hurtling backward, crashing into the black water with a violent splash.
White Albion landed lightly on the surface, rolling his shoulders.
"Let me guess," he said to the empty expanse, almost bored. "You're the type who claims to hate fighting, right?"
"....."
Silence answered him.
"But the moment you're fueled by rage… the moment you're given a reason… you don't hesitate to throw hands. Am I right, Albion?"
The black water remained still.
"I find that mindset pathetic," White Albion continued. "The weak can scream all they want. The strong will always rule this world."
He spread his arms wide, gazing up at the hollow, lightless sky.
"Who you think is 'worthy' means nothing!"
"Do both of us a favor," he shouted,
"and stop underestimating the value of your own life—"
"And stop overestimating the value of someone else's!"
Beneath the surface of the black water, Albion drifted weightlessly.
Hearing those words, his eyes slowly opened.
'Is this really it for me…?'