A game…?

Riley's voice echoed lowly, like thunder buried beneath still water.

His head tilted slightly, eyes—if they could be called that anymore—glimmering faintly under the shifting light.

In this eyeless form, expression meant little, yet the air around him trembled, heavy with emotion he no longer knew how to show.

Each beat of the frosted heart in Erebil's hand tore through him like a blade.

That faint rhythm—it wasn't just sound.

It was memory.

It was warmth, laughter, the sound of her voice, the one who had changed everything for him.

He didn't need to ask who it belonged to.

He already knew.

Snow.

His Snow.

The first light he had reached for in this cursed world.

The reason he'd even taken the first step down the path that led him here.

And now, that very heart was pulsing—weakly, faintly—inside the grasp of a goddess who treated lives like toys.

He could feel the pull in his chest—the clash of emotion and reason.

The cold calculation of a being that had ascended beyond mortality, and the burning ache of a man who still remembered what it meant to care.

How? Why? When?

Each question repeated in his mind, overlapping into static.

How had Erebil been able to interfere so directly?

Why now, of all times?

And when did she even have the chance to seize Snow's soul?

None of it made sense.

The laws of causality, the divine restrictions placed on higher beings—none of them should have allowed a goddess of Erebil's level to touch this world so freely. Not unless…

Asmodeus.

Riley's thoughts narrowed.

Could it be his interference that gave her the opening?

Or perhaps it was his own fault—his existence, the very anomaly that defied the logic of the heavens, might have twisted the laws enough for her to slip through.

Either way, one thing was certain.

A price had been paid.

And it was far greater than he could afford.

Erebil, still holding the crystal heart delicately between her fingers, watched him in quiet amusement. Her smile was faint, but her eyes glittered with knowing cruelty.

"I can see in your eyes deep thoughts," she said softly, her voice echoing like silk over glass. "Questions, theories, conclusions… but not of escape. Not even of resistance."

She stepped closer, and the beating of the heart grew louder—syncing with Riley's own.

"I'm glad," she said, her tone mockingly gentle. "Glad that pride and arrogance haven't yet rotted that mind of yours, little light."

Riley's gaze darkened, his form flickering in silent anger. He didn't reply, not at first.

The golden shimmer that lined his silhouette dimmed and warped, like light swallowed by shadow.

He hated her words.

But he couldn't deny them.

For all his strength, his ascension, his title as [Heaven's Anomaly]… compared to her? Compared to Erebil?

He was still standing at the edge of something far greater than himself.

"Now come and sit," Erebil said softly, gesturing toward the empty chair across from her. "Don't worry, the game is rather simple… we just need to bet something of equal value. Whoever wins gets to claim what was wagered. Quite simple, no?"

Her voice was calm, almost musical, but beneath every syllable was a quiet malice, a tension that gnawed at the air.

Riley remained standing.

His form flickered faintly between shadow and light, as if his body itself couldn't decide what it wanted to be.

He didn't answer at first, only looked at her—coldly, steadily, without flinching.

A part of him wanted to end it here—to twist his authority, lie to the world, and undo the situation with a single command.

He could rewrite truth. He could alter perception. He could bend the threads of existence just enough to slip free.

But not here. Not in her domain.

Even his authority—[Heaven's Anomaly]—had limits.

And before a goddess like her, those limits were absolute.

He took a slow breath. Then another.

The golden light that bled faintly from him began to fade as he steadied his mind.

His heartbeat slowed, his divine energy condensed, and for a brief moment the realm around them stopped trembling.

Now wasn't the time for anger.

If he wanted to win against her, he couldn't let emotion cloud his focus.

He had to think.

"I see…" he said quietly after a moment, his tone calm but edged. "You've explained the mechanics. But what sort of game are we actually playing?"

Erebil smiled—slowly, delightedly—as she sat back in her chair and crossed her legs. "Fufu~ finally, calm words from you," she said. "That's better."

Riley finally moved, pulling out the chair across from her and sitting down.

His form shifted, the flickering anomalies around him dimming until he looked human again.

The only thing that betrayed his nature were his eyes—piercing static blue, sharp as a blade's edge.

"Go on," he said quietly.

Erebil tilted her head slightly, her black hair cascading like liquid shadow down her shoulders. "I told you the game is rather simple. The bet," she said, lightly tapping her finger on the crystal heart that hovered beside her, "is just part of it."

Her crimson eyes glowed faintly as she leaned forward.

"The game will revolve around your beloved," she said. "The fragile little princess clinging to her soul."

Riley's fingers twitched slightly, but he didn't speak.

"If she breaks," Erebil continued, smiling faintly, "if she succumbs to the pain—her despair, her guilt, her fear—then I win. But if she resists it… if she manages to endure the weight of her suffering until the end… then she wins."

Her tone was so light, so casual, it almost sounded like she was explaining the rules of a children's game.

"And if she wins," she added, her voice softening into a whisper, "then you win as well. You'll get her heart back, her soul intact, and perhaps even a small truth about yourself as a reward."

Riley stared at her for a long moment, unblinking. "And if you win?"

Erebil's smile widened ever so slightly.

"Then I keep what I've taken," she said simply. "Her heart, her soul… and perhaps, just perhaps—your hope, your existence as a whole I want it~"

"...."

"So… do you accept my little game, little light?"

Erebil's voice dripped with amusement, her words curling through the air like dark velvet.

Riley didn't respond immediately.

He stood there, silent, his form half-hidden behind the faint shimmer of divine energy flickering around him.

The tension between them hung heavy—like the calm before a storm.

Finally, he spoke.

"…It's not enough."

Erebil raised an eyebrow, the faintest smile tugging at her lips. "Oh? What's not enough?"

"My reward," Riley said flatly.

Her amusement deepened. "So you want something more… How greedy. Pray tell, what reasonable means of reward do you want beyond what I've already offered?"

Riley's eyes narrowed slightly. "A guarantee," he said, his voice low but steady. "I want a guarantee that you won't interfere again. Not until the designated fate you've brought upon this world reaches its end."

For the first time, Erebil blinked—her smile still present, but faintly sharper now. "Ah… so you already know about that little fact." Her tone softened, almost playfully. "Did Eris open her mouth, I wonder?"

Riley said nothing.

His silence was answer enough.

Erebil chuckled quietly, a dark, melodic sound that echoed faintly in the still air. "Fufu~ I see… how bold of her. And even bolder of you to make such a demand."

Her eyes glowed faintly violet as she leaned forward. "Very well, I'll add that as part of your reward. Should you win, I will not interfere—not a whisper of my will—until the fated cycle ends. You have my word."

She extended her hand toward him, palm open.

"Now then… shall we play the game, little light?"

Riley looked at her outstretched hand for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he lifted his right hand and placed it in hers.

Their fingers interlocked—light and shadow intertwining—and for a brief second, the air itself trembled.

A white light flared between them.

A hum that wasn't sound but existence itself filled the space.

"By the way," Erebil added lightly, her tone teasing just as the light began to engulf them, "I forgot to mention—this time, the two of us will be personally part of the game."

"What do you—"

Riley didn't finish.

The world around him snapped.

...…

His vision blurred, twisting as divine space folded in on itself.

The air grew warmer, softer.

The oppressive weight of Erebil's domain vanished in an instant.

When his sight cleared, everything had changed.

He was no longer surrounded by darkness and death.

Instead, he stood in a place far too familiar.

A tall castle-like building rose behind him, its stone walls gleaming under soft sunlight.

A beautiful garden stretched out ahead, the air fresh and filled with the sound of rustling leaves and birdsong.

The faint scent of flowers drifted by with the breeze.

Riley turned, his gaze tracing every detail, his chest tightening as realization dawned.

This was…

…the back courtyard of Killian Hall.

He was back in the academy.

"Riley…"

A soft, delicate voice called out to him.

Riley blinked, his focus snapping back to the present as warmth pulsed faintly through his hand. He looked down—and froze.

He was holding someone's hand. A small, soft, trembling hand.

His eyes widened. "Sophiel…?"

The girl in front of him tilted her head slightly, her silvery-bluish hair catching the gentle sunlight, glimmering faintly with strands of violet.

Her eyes—deep purple, calm and distant yet full of light—met his.

"Yes?" she answered softly, her tone as serene as he remembered.

But Riley's heart thudded heavily in his chest. Something wasn't right. The longer he looked at her, the more off everything felt. That light behind her eyes—it wasn't just Sophiel.

It was her.

"No… you're—" he began, but before he could finish, another voice—trembling and breathless—cut through the moment.

"F–Finally… I found you…!"

That voice.

Riley's heart skipped.

He turned, and there she was—Snow—standing only a few meters away, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath, her face glowing with warmth and relief.

Her white hair shimmered faintly gold under the sun, her eyes bright as she smiled through exhaustion.

"Snow…" he whispered, though his lips barely moved.

He wanted to call her name—to reach for her, to hold her—but his voice refused to come out. His throat was tight, his breath shallow. Something was wrong.

He tried again, forcing his will into his voice, but—

Nothing.

Not a sound.

His mind reeled.

What's happening…?

Why can't I speak?

Snow, still unaware, took a few quick steps toward him, her expression softening as her smile widened.

"Riley! I think there's something going on—I don't know what's happening but we need to—"

She reached out…

And then—

SWIPE!

The sound of contact cracked the silence.

Snow's eyes went wide in shock.

Riley had slapped her hand away—hard.

He didn't even know why. His body moved before he could think. Cold detachment filled his expression, a hollow, foreign emotion gripping his heart.

Snow froze, her lips parting slightly as she looked at him in disbelief.

"…Riley?" she whispered, hurt lacing her trembling voice.

His own voice followed, sharp and unfamiliar—mechanical almost.

"Who are you?"

The words pierced through her like a blade.

Snow's eyes widened further, confusion and pain mixing together.

"Riley… it's me."

"Hmm? Do you know her, Riley?"

That voice again—calm, almost amused.

Sophie—spoke smoothly, stepping slightly closer to him, her expression cool and composed.

"Sophiel… why are you here?"

Snow finally stammered, her voice trembling.

The realization dawning on her face was clear—her sister shouldn't be here.

She was supposed to be at the Imperial Palace, miles away.

Yet here she stood, her fingers laced with Riley's, her posture graceful, her tone tinged with cold amusement.

"For a stranger," 'Sophiel' said, turning toward Snow with faint disdain, "you are quite bold with your words. I know that ranks and titles matter little within the Academy, but I don't recall granting you permission to address me so casually…"

Her lips curled into a gentle yet cold smile. "Oh, dear stranger… what business do you have with my fiancé?"

The words dropped like stones into the air.

Snow froze completely, her pupils trembling as the color drained from her face.

Riley's heart pounded violently in his chest, his thoughts twisting in disbelief as he watched Snow's expression shift from shock… to hurt… to something hollow.

But he couldn't move. He couldn't speak.

The world around him felt heavy—real, yet wrong.

And as Snow looked at him with trembling lips, whispering his name like it was the last thread she could hold onto—

Riley finally understood.

This game… was going to be far crueler than anything he had ever imagined.

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