The dragon smiled, a cold, knowing smile that split its jagged maw. It had found its weapon… not claw or flame, but doubt.

"You claim you have walked many lives," it hissed, voice rippling like oil across water.

"But I am the Umbrax. I see deeper than your self-made illusions. What you believe happened to you… is not truth."

"Stop." Simma cut him off sharply, his voice cracking like a whip.

"And like I said…" Simma pressed forward, eyes burning.

"You are the fool. I have unravelled the secret you hoped I would never find. My past hosts all died prematurely… not because they were weak, or lets say not because I was weak… but because I rejected you... I embraced my Azrax, refusing the cursed shadow within me. And when you, the Umbrax, manifested… I bowed. I broke. I perished."

His grin sharpened, cruelly.

"But I am no fool, no more in this reincarnation. That is why I destroyed my Azrax first… in the form of the blue-eyed suited man. I rejected him… killed him and accepted you first. I embraced the cursed path as mine. And with it came the locked away memories that were once chained. The memories that confirm the truth of my curse. The memories of what I did to deserve it."

The grin widened.

"And do you know the best part?... That blue-eyed man is still my soul... he is the other half… Though I killed him, he still lives in me. All I need to do is call him back…. To sync with him… and he returns… with the rest of the half memories"

Even as he spoke, Simma's body convulsed. His face twitched, splitting under unseen strain. From the center of his being, his form divided… one eye flared red and demonic, a fang lengthening past his lip, his hand twisting into claws etched with crawling crimson demonic patterns.

The other half gleamed with his true human face, blue-eyed and bare of corruption.

The dragon roared, scales rattling with rage. Simma had played him. The prison still chained the Umbrax's full might, and the boy… no, the ancient one…was exploiting the leash.

"And that is not all," Simma continued, his voice half-human, half-demonic, echoing as if two selves spoke in unison.

"Joining other things that made my belief stronger is one of my past selves…. a host I reincarnated into…. Gregor Swamwood.

"When Sarah read it out that day in my room… from that big book, the book that an unknown man had gifted me through Delilah, she uncovered the tale of Gregor Swamwood, who had fallen in love with Yiriana. And Yiriana had taught him how to wield her bow."

"It made sense. Even though I'm sure Yiriana didn't know it was me… Zelihuth O'Connor… that I reincarnated into Gregor Swamwood, she thought I was Gregor Swamwood. But that was where I learned how to shoot bows, and learning from the owner itself, the once love of my life, it came with great benefits…which was ... I am very good at it."

Memories surged like fire behind his eyes.

"Then there comes the part that I automatically learned how to ride a horse, a horse which Simma has never ridden before. But since I am not only Simma, and due to the fact that I, Zelihuth, was good at riding horses before I reincarnated into Simma, it came back to me."

He smiled evilly.

"Then also the part that I could not glide even when Sarah wanted to teach me… yes, that was something I could not do right from the beginning of time, even as the once great Omega. I couldn't glide, even before I got myself the curse… I couldn't glide."

He shook his head slowly as he kept on digging, the dragon amazed at how he was putting the pieces together.

"Then down to my Echelon Seal. I just figured Zolomon lied to me. The ES wasn't given to me when they gave it to the recruits in the Echelon chamber, but yet I had it in me, because I had received it while I was still yet to reincarnate."

His voice dropped, low and venomous.

"And as for the curse… do you want the truth? I never reduced the Bloodbath. I birthed it. You know it. You've always known it. You lied not to reveal me, but to bury me. To make me follow you instead of remembering myself. But you failed. You always fail."

"AHHHHHHH!"

The Umbrax's roar shook the cavern. Shadows flared and writhed like serpents. Its voice was a dagger.

"You are still weak, Zelihuth. Still pathetic! Just as you were when I bent you to my will ages ago. Do you think this time is different? I have broken you in every life. Every host of yours died miserably at my hand, feeding my power."

The words struck him like barbs. Simma's jaw clenched, but he swallowed the pain. He would not let the Umbrax see it pierce.

"And what," the Umbrax pressed, voice dripping with scorn,

"What makes you think this time will end otherwise? That the curse will not gnaw at you again, twist your rage, and drag you back to me, shattered, begging, broken and bound as you always are?"

Silence fell over Simma. His chest heaved. The truth rang in him like iron: every reincarnation had failed. Every life had ended the same, untimely, consumed by fury, and devoured by the Umbrax's hand.

Each time, he had denied the red-eyed half of himself, buried it, only for it to rise in wrath and destroy him.

The dragon's grin widened, sensing the wound.

"That is what I thought," it purred.

"You are unworthy of their songs. Unworthy of their statues and their coins. If they knew the truth; that it was you who caused the Bloodbath, not spared them from it, they would spit on your name. They would tear your face from their money, burn your tales in their hearths. You are no savior. You are the curse."

The words slithered into him, cruel and deliberate, gnawing at his resolve. Simma bowed his head, shadows creeping across his form. His human side began to buckle as the demonic patterns crawled further, trying to devour what remained.

The Umbrax's voice thundered, relentless.

"Do you remember the bargain, Omega?... The day of the Fracture? The prophets trusted you to save the world, Your mission was simple: carry the healing orb, seal the wound, and make sure I don't get into your head and manipulate you until you place the Healing Orb in between us, so as to heal the blooming Great Fracture."

"Because even then the Great Fracture had not sent me free from Azrax, the process was still about to occur, and you came right in time to set it right. But yet… you failed. I manipulated you, and then together we caused the Great Fracture, which led to the Bloodbath."

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

The dragon's laugh echoed, thick and triumphant, as if the darkness itself applauded.

Simma was now thrown into the heavy routes of his past mistakes. His head ached as he walked through it. Not only did he hear the umbrax words ravaging his cursed soul. But he pictured it exactly as it happened. His memories were now fully back though, weighing on him, like a bulldozer.

And somehow just somehow, the umabrax seemed to have clawed its shadowy fingers into his soul about to break him yet again.

But...

"..."

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