CHAPTER 273: SECOND VILLAIN ACT [5]

[Second... You’ve misunderstood what I’m offering.]

My voice didn’t rise. It didn’t need to. Each word carried its own gravity, like lead weights sinking into the silence between us.

[This isn’t a leash. It isn’t chains. What I bring you is choice. Freedom. A path beyond the walls this world has built around you.]

Alice’s eyes flickered—hesitation for just a heartbeat, quickly buried under mockery. She tilted her head again, trying to play it off, but the way her fingers twitched against her shotgun betrayed the unease.

[You believe yourself strong. And yes—you are. But strength bound in the rules of this age, sealed and clipped by hands far above you... what is that worth?]

I let the words hang for a moment, long enough for her pride to bristle.

[You could burn a nation to ash, and still they would call you a tool. A calamity to cage. A disaster to control. That is the truth of their fear. They will never allow you to stand as you are.]

Her lips pressed into a thin line, though she tried to curve them into another mocking smile.

[But with Him? There are no cages. No ceilings. No one to look down on you with trembling eyes. Only the promise of what you were meant to be—unfettered. Complete.]

The night swallowed my voice, but the weight of it remained.

[That is why I am here. Not to command you. Not to tame you. To offer you the only thing this rotten world never will.]

I leaned forward slightly, mask catching the glint of her flames.

[Freedom, Alice Draken. The chance to exist as yourself—not as their weapon, not as their prisoner, but as you were meant to be.]

Her shotgun clicked against her palm, the metallic sound sharp in the quiet. Her golden eyes glimmered, torn between curiosity and scorn.

"...Freedom, huh?" she murmured, her lips quirking faintly. "You make it sound tempting. Almost."

But the way her gaze lingered—longer than she probably intended—told me everything.

The words had landed.

Not convinced. Not swayed. But there, in her heart, the seed had been planted.

And that wasn’t enough. Not yet.

[He will even grant your desire.]

That was the moment her golden eyes sharpened, dangerous.

"You speak as if you know what I want. How dare you—"

[The Everdusk Stone.]

Her words died instantly.

[The heart of lost alchemy. The final piece you need to shatter your seal. Tell me... am I wrong?]

For the first time, the mocking smile slipped. Genuine astonishment flickered across her face.

"How... how could you possibly know that? No one should— No. Who are you really? Do you mean to say... you know my true identity?"

[Lacking.]

Her brows furrowed. "What?"

I tilted my head slightly, voice lowering, measured and cold.

[Your response. It’s lacking imagination. Predictable. I had hoped for something more fitting—something worthy of the one He has chosen to watch. But... perhaps that will come later.]

A silence stretched between us, broken only by the faint crackle of the flames she had yet to dispel. My mask hid the smirk threatening to rise.

Perhaps I really did have a talent for acting.

[It is by His grace alone that I know these things—who you are, what binds you, and what you seek. To Him, the desires of beings like us are no more than glass. Transparent. Fragile. Easily seen through.]

Her fists clenched at her sides, yet she did not interrupt.

[And more importantly—He has the power to grant what you long for. To place the Everdusk Stone in your hands. To tear apart the chains that bind you.]

Alice let out a sharp laugh, the sound brittle, almost forced.

"You really expect me to swallow that? That some mysterious ’Great One’ just happens to see me, happens to know everything about me, and conveniently has exactly what I want?"

Her hands raised slightly—not enough to attack, just enough to remind me she still had teeth. "No. You’re bluffing. This is nothing but smoke and words."

I tilted my head, the mask creaking faintly.

[Bluffing?]

A chuckle slipped through—low, humorless, carrying no warmth at all.

[You mistake me for some swindler in a back alley. But you should know this, Alice Draken—His sight pierces through all veils. What you hide, He reveals. What you crave, He brings forth. What you fear, He shatters.]

Her golden eyes narrowed, yet beneath the defiance I caught it—that flicker. The instinct to deny what she wanted most. The instinct to cling to her pride even as her heart betrayed her.

[You doubt because your mind is still shackled. Because you cannot imagine something greater than yourself. That is natural. That is why so many crawl in the dirt, worshiping false gods of power and freedom, while He alone sits above all.]

Her teeth clenched at that, her smile twisting into something sharper. "Greater than me, huh? You talk like I’m supposed to kneel. To worship. But you’re wrong—I’ll never bend to anyone. Not to you, not to your Great One, not to anyone."

[You mistake bending for belonging.]

My voice cut through her defiance like a blade.

[The Great One has no need for worship. No need for prayers. He is beyond such trivialities. He is not fed by devotion, nor sustained by followers. He simply is.]

I leaned forward, every syllable deliberate, pressed down with quiet force.

[And you—whether you deny it or not—already stand in His palm. You breathe, you burn, you bleed within the world He has shaped. To doubt Him is to doubt the sky above you, the ground beneath your feet. He does not require your belief. You already live by His decree.]

Alice froze. Her knuckles whitened against her weapon.

"...You really think saying that makes me want to join you?" she spat, but the tremor in her voice betrayed her anger—or was it unease?

[Want?]

I let the word linger, tasting it like bitter wine.

[No. Desire is beneath Him. Whether you wish it or not, whether you fight or resist, His will is absolute. What I offer you is not a demand. It is an invitation. Refuse if you must. But the moment He decides to set His eyes fully upon you, Alice Draken... not even your seal, not even your fire, will matter.]

I straightened, letting the shadows swallow my frame once more.

[The Great One does not ask. He does not beg. He is everything. And you—]

I gestured toward her, slow, deliberate.

[—are but one of the many pieces He may choose to raise... or to discard.]

Her lips parted, then closed. For once, no mocking smile came. Only silence, heavy and biting, as if she weighed every word against the fire still raging inside her chest.