CHAPTER 10 :
A False Reality
Balder's eyes widened, voice sharp:
"So… you were talking to our ghost!"
Loki snapped, anger flaring: "Fool! We are alive! It was someone disguised…"
Balder turned to Arata, disbelief written across his face: "Seriously! He was disguised as us! You… you spoke with that one in disguise for so long and didn't notice a thing? I… I'm truly disappointed!"
Arata's lips twitched. "Oh? You're disappointed… in me? You—"
"Enough!" Tian Jun's roar cut through the air like thunder. His gaze bore into Arata, fierce and unyielding. "Arata! How… how did you not sense anything wrong? How could you fail to notice someone wearing another's skin?"
Arata had known these three for years. Yet even so, the impostor had slipped past him. And in that moment, a cold thought clawed at the edge of his mind: if they could be fooled once… could they be fooled again?
Arata said evenly, "I couldn't tell. They mimicked them perfectly… it was as if they were the real ones. I just couldn't."
Tian Jun leaned back on his throne, eyes closed, letting out a slow, measured breath. The hall felt colder, heavier, as if time itself had slowed.
Then, in a low, deliberate voice, Tian Jun murmured, "'You're trusting the wrong person.'"
The words landed like a hammer.
Luka stiffened, his fingers tightening into fists. "A warning… maybe. But why… why give the scroll to Arata? What is he trying to say?"
Balder's voice was sharp, slicing through the tension. "Who exactly is 'he'?"
Tian Jun's eye twitched. "Aoba," he said, calm but lethal in certainty.
"He is the one."
Balder's jaw dropped. "Aoba… why him?"
Arata's gaze didn't waver. "If not him… then who else could fool me?"
Luka's voice was almost a whisper, trembling with the weight of the truth. "…and kill without leaving a trace… without a single witness."
A silence fell over them that was deeper than darkness, thick with dread. Every heartbeat seemed to echo in the vast hall. The scroll in Arata's hand felt suddenly heavier, a signal of danger they could almost taste.
"Well… it does make sense," Balder thought, and did not question further.
Then a thought suddenly crossed his mind. "Didn't he say something about you going to the mortal world?"
At those words, the atmosphere grew even heavier. Each of them seemed to realize something, yet none of them spoke it aloud.
From that moment on, they became far more cautious.
They all left the palace. Tian Jun watched their retreating figures in silence, only shifting his gaze after they had completely disappeared from sight.
"You talked with some ghost for so
long!" Balder said, unable to hide his excitement.
"That's kind of cool. I want some ghost friends too," Loki added, sounding oddly enthusiastic.
Luka: "…"
Arata: "…"
Loki then looked at Arata and asked, "How did you not realize they weren't us?"
Arata narrowed his eyes slightly and replied, "I don't know."
Balder frowned. "That means he's really powerful."
"We underestimated him," Loki said quietly.
Luka added, "He was even able to create fake versions of us."
Arata was silent for a moment, then asked, "Balder, did you find anything about that snowflake symbol?"
Balder shook his head. "No. I need more time."
"I've been experimenting on the black book with the cyan snowflake you gave me," Loki said, sounding disappointed. "But I still haven't found anything."
Arata suddenly stopped walking.
The three of them looked at him in confusion, then asked at the same time, their voices filled with suspicion, "What happened?"
Arata didn't answer. He just looked at them.
Something was wrong.
His eyes slowly turned cold—cold enough to kill.
The trio felt a chill run down their spines. Cold sweat broke out across their foreheads as they met Arata's gaze. No one understood what was happening, but their instincts were screaming that something was very, very wrong.
Luka was about to speak when he saw Arata raise his hand.
In the next moment, a long black sword appeared in Arata's hand. The blade looked like black crystal—dark, clear, and unbelievably sharp.
Color drained from their faces.
They slowly took a step back. Then another.
Arata began walking toward them.
Slowly.
Step by step.
Luka suddenly spoke, asking something no one expected.
"H-How?"
Arata did not answer. His murderous gaze remained locked on them, watching their every movement, every breath, every twitch.
Then—someone shouted.
Balder suddenly rushed toward Arata, as if he had made a decision.
A sharp sound cut through the air.
The sound of a blade piercing flesh.
Balder's body froze. The long black sword in Arata's hand had pierced straight through his chest.
The other two turned and tried to flee—
But Arata was faster.
"Swoosh!"
Two cold flashes streaked through the air.
Their heads fell to the ground.
Blood sprayed into the air, then poured across the ground as the three bodies collapsed, lifeless.
For a moment, everything was silent.
Then—
"Aaah!"
Screams erupted everywhere.
Arata looked up and saw people running out of their houses, screaming, fleeing in panic, not knowing what was happening.
Then, after a while, one of them suddenly stopped.
He stood there, completely still.
Not screaming.
Not breathing.
Not moving.
His body began to swell.
It was visible to the naked eye—his skin stretching, his body expanding, as if something inside him was growing, pushing, forcing its way out.
Then—
"Burst!"
He exploded.
Blood, flesh, and shattered organs scattered across the ground.
Arata's eyes widened, though he did not know why. He was not afraid—at least, that was what he told himself.
Everyone present suddenly stopped. No one moved. No one screamed. No one even seemed to breathe.
Except Arata.
Then their bodies began to swell.
And then—
"Burst!"
One by one, like bubbles, they burst.
Bodies exploded, and their insides scattered across the ground. Blood splashed everywhere, painting the earth red.
The three bodies Arata had killed also began to swell. Standing so close, he could not avoid it when they burst. Blood rained down on him. Flesh and shattered organs fell across his shoulders and clothes. Even his face was splattered with warm blood.
Arata stood there, covered in red, the metallic smell of blood filling the air.
Then suddenly—he felt something was wrong.
His body began to swell.
Arata's breathing grew heavy. He didn't know if it was fear, or if the swelling was making it hard to breathe. He didn't know. He didn't want to know.
He raised his hands and watched as they began to swell, the change visible to the naked eye.
His mind went blank.
He was about to burst into countless pieces—
And then—
"Burst!"
Arata gasped and opened his eyes.
He shot up from the bed, breathing heavily, his body covered in cold sweat. A cup of water sat beside him on the bedside table; he grabbed it and drank it in one go.
It took him a long time to calm his breathing.
Only then did he look around.
He was in his room.
Sunlight streamed through the half-open window, and golden rays fell quietly across the floor.
It was morning.
And it had all been a dream.