Ruby’s words finally settled in my brain as I gave her a look full of assessment. "How do you keep the world on its track?" I asked, my voice weighted with curiosity and something else—disbelief, maybe.
Rising from my seat, I walked toward her slowly, each step heavy with thought. The emptied plates lay scattered across the table, half-forgotten remnants of our meal, the aroma of roasted herbs and spices still clinging stubbornly to the air. The candle between us flickered, throwing tiny shadows across her face.
Ruby’s gaze stayed fixed on me, her dark eyes calm, as if she had expected the question long before I spoke it. "You know the answer yourself, Sharon," she said softly. "Place your hand on your chest and answer yourself."
I know the answer?
What did she mean?
Her words hung in the air like a challenge. I stopped in front of her, crossing my hands over my chest.
For a moment, I just stared, searching her face—the stillness of her expression, the faint curve of a knowing smile, the quiet power she carried as effortlessly as breathing.
My heartbeat thudded against my ribs. I pressed my palm against my chest, more out of reflex than belief. The warmth beneath my skin felt unfamiliar—not mine, not entirely. "What exactly do you think I’ll find there?" I asked, my voice lowering.
Ruby leaned back, her fingers tracing the edge of her teacup. "The same thing that keeps everyone and everything moving," she said. "It isn’t freedom. It’s rhythm. The world doesn’t stay on track because someone allows it to reign free. It does because someone forces it to keep it in control—because someone like me... listens... or listened to it."
I frowned. "Rhythm," I repeated, tasting the word as though it were foreign. "You make it sound like a song."
"Maybe it is," she murmured. "Every living thing contributes a note, a pulse. You’ve felt it before, haven’t you? When things just... fall into place. When you know exactly where to go or what to say. That’s what we do. We control—that note, that pulse, that falling things into places, where to go, and what to say—we... or, people like me control it."
I hesitated, thinking back to the rare moments when my instincts guided me through impossible choices—moments that felt almost orchestrated. "So, you’re saying the world keeps balance not through harmony... but through force?"
Ruby stood then, meeting my eyes. The sunlight danced over her features, making her look otherworldly, reflecting her inner strength. "Harmony, rhythm, faith—call it whatever you wish. But whatever name you give it, it starts here. They start from here. Every world does." She reached out and touched the spot over my heart, her fingers warm like sunlight. "When you lose this, everything around you start to fall apart. They control it, and I... controlled it before."
I felt a tremor pass through me. Does this mean every action of a living being was controlled by them?
"How they control us? How did you do?" I asked, glaring at her.
Ruby smiled, "Don’t glare me, Sharon. I am not at fault here... or at least I am not anymore. So, please don’t glare at me." She pulled me towards her, and made me sit on her lap. I struggled a bit, but I couldn’t get out of her hold.
"Release me this instant!" I yelled at her. My face heated up as she smirked at me. "You are enjoying this, aren’t you?"
"Very much," Ruby nodded.
I shook my head at her behaviour, pinching her thighs.
"Ouch! You are very naughty, Sharon." Ruby forcefully grabbed the two of my hands with her single hand. "Honey, I am stronger than you if we go by physical means. So, please don’t fight."
"You are being a bully," I pouted.
Ruby laughed, "Am I? Sorry about that, Sharon. Sometimes my previous job’s influence on me affects my actions. Well, carry on with your questions."
I glared at her for sometime before adverting my eyes. "Then answer, Ruby. Answer my question."
"You want to know our methods of control? Fine. The first method is through force—full brute force."
"You remove the threats by killing them, right?" I asked.
"Not me, Sharon. They removed them by eliminating them, though sometimes they don’t kill. Instead, they recruit—this is their second method." Her tone turned bitter at the end of her sentence.
My eyes widened in realization. I whispered, "They recruited you because you were a threat to your world. What did you even do to be considered a threat?"
Ruby’s hands tightened as she buried her head in my nape of my shoulder. A shiver ran down my spine when her hot breath hit my nape.
"Yes, I was a threat. Do you know why?" Ruby laughed bitterly. She placed a kiss on my nape, causing my toes to curl up.
"Please don’t... do that." I closed my eyes, feeling her body against me.
"If you don’t want, I won’t kiss you. Sharon, you wanted to know why I was considered a threat—I was considered a threat because I refused to enter the harem of my world’s protagonist," Ruby whispered. I could feel her anger through her tone.
"If you don’t want to continue—"
"No, I will," Ruby interrupted me. She removed her head from my nape. "They killed my family. They killed all of my loved ones—made me forcefully join them." Sadness was radiating from her words.
Ruby had already released her hold, yet I still sat on her lap. It was my form of showing her support.
She continued, "I fought against them—then I lost. Lost very badly. At the end, I was forced to join them. But they never recruited me as a quick-transmigrator," she took a deep breath, "I joined in one of their subsidiaries. The higher ups made me do a lot of tasks—task after task. It was their punishment for me—to show me my position."
I nodded my head and stood up. Turning towards her, I looked into her eyes—finding anger, resentment, and hatred... directed towards herself.
She despised herself.