I let her cry for a while. Minutes passed in silence, broken only by the occasional sniffle or hiccup as she buried her face deeper into her palms.
Then, once her sobs began to quiet, I finally spoke again—my voice low and steady.
"See, weren’t you the one who lectured me?" I asked, my eyes locked on her slumped figure. "Telling me that this world is real. That I shouldn’t treat people like they don’t have feelings, that actions have consequences, and all that crap."
Her hands stopped shaking. She didn’t respond, but I knew she was listening.
I continued, "So why is it that you, of all people, think this world filled with monsters, magic, and unpredictable shit is supposed to be peaceful? You think I can just stroll through it unharmed?" I scoffed. "I was bound to get hurt, Mia. Hell, I don’t even know when I’m going to die."
Her eyes went wide at my words. Her lips puckered like she wanted to say something, but I cut her off before she could.
"And that," I said, gesturing sharply at her, "is exactly why I need to grow stronger. Not just for your sake—but for my own survival. Every fight, every scar, every drop of blood—it’s all part of getting stronger. If I don’t push forward, I die. It’s as simple as that."
She finally spoke, her voice small and fragile, like paper about to tear. "But... two people are better than one."
I nodded, but not kindly. "Yeah. Two competent people are better than one. Back on Earth, you couldn’t even squish a fly. And here? Some of those ’flies’ are the size of horses—and twice as aggressive."
She flinched at that. Her head dipped, eyes cast down in shame. She didn’t have a retort, because she knew I was right.
"If our bond—our so-called ’sibling connection’—makes you do idiotic things like overtraining yourself until you collapse, then maybe... maybe I don’t appreciate it."
Her head slowly, dreadfully rose. Eyes wide. She looked at me like I’d just torn the sky apart.
"Yeah," I said flatly, holding her gaze. "You know what I’m insinuating, don’t you? If I ever see you near the arena again—or any combat training area—we won’t be family anymore. We won’t be siblings. I’ll sever that bond myself."
She blinked slowly, almost as if her brain needed extra time to process what I’d said. Her face twisted—shock, disbelief, hurt. The tears didn’t even return. She was too stunned.
But my tone shifted then—softer, calmer.
"Look, Mia. If you really want to help me... then help me in a different way. You’re smart. You’ve always been smart. Use that genius brain of yours. Make some gadgets, invent potions, build magical artifacts, I don’t care—anything other than throwing your body into battles you’re not ready for."
I barely finished the sentence before she spoke.
And what she said... hit me like a brick to the gut.
"Wow," she said bitterly, her voice cold and sharp. "You’re just trying to fast-track the inevitable, huh? Trying to cut ties now, under the excuse of ’protecting me.’ Or maybe—just maybe—you’re doing it to hide your own condition."
I blinked, caught off guard.
She started walking toward me. Not slowly. Not nervously.
"One step ahead, right?" she said. "Break the bond before I find out. Keep me at a distance. That way, you can keep hiding it. Your condition."
"What the hell are you babbling about?" I asked, brows furrowed.
She shook her head, disappointed. "You’re not the only one who gets hurt, Arawn. I do too. Watching my brother walk back covered in blood, half-dead, pretending he’s fine—do you think that feels good to me? Do you think I sleep peacefully at night knowing that the only family I have in this world is out there risking his life alone?"
She pointed a finger at her chest.
"It’s my life too. And I’ll decide how I deal with it."
Her voice grew firmer. "And I’ll live the way I want. You don’t get to decide that for me. You can’t stop me. And you sure as hell don’t get to threaten me with severing our bond just because you’re scared."
I tilted my head, my voice laced with mockery. "Your choices? I’ve seen how great those have turned out so far."
With a glare, she grabbed the collar of my shirt and yanked me forward.
I shoved her hands off, stepping back. "Oh really? Then tell me, genius—what about my condition? Care to explain how you know so much?"
Her eyes narrowed. "You forget—I’ve got a system too. My ’Golden Finger’ isn’t just some stats manager. It lets me see things. People’s status. Their conditions."
She took a step closer.
"And you, Arawn... are suffering from memory loss."
My eyes widened for a brief second. Just long enough for her to see that she was right.
She smirked—sadly, triumphantly. "I know, Arawn. You’ve been hiding it. And maybe you were planning to keep hiding it. But guess what?"
She took another step forward.
"You’re not alone in this world. Not anymore. Never was. So stop acting like it."
I let her words settle. Let them echo through my mind like a rock tossed into still water. The ripples they left behind weren’t small.
After a long pause, I asked, "How long have you known that for?"
My mind flashed to the first time I noticed something was wrong—when I returned from the monster zone.
That’s when everything had started, right? The headaches, the blank moments, the fog in my thoughts. Maybe that’s when it all began?
But Mia’s response shattered that assumption in an instant.
"For a while now," she said softly. "When my system evolved—during that hellish study phase you teased me about—I gained a new skill. One that lets me see people’s health conditions in detail."
I blinked. "So... you got a doctor system?" I said, trying to lighten the mood with a smirk. Maybe get her to crack a smile.
She just narrowed her eyes and stared at me like I’d tried to joke at a funeral.
"Technically," she said after a pause, "I noticed it after you came back from Isolde’s illusion trial. From then on... it’s been eating away at you."
My heart skipped a beat. That far back? "Wait—hold on," I said, frowning. "You mean during the illusion training? That damn place did this to me?"
She shook her head. "No. The damage wasn’t from the illusion itself. It was already there... but that trial? It accelerated it. You were unconscious for days, remember? And when you woke up, something in your aura had changed. It was subtle—but my system didn’t lie. The corrosion had already begun."
I swore under my breath. ’Fuck... even while I was unconscious, this damn motherfucking element was eroding me?’
It felt like betrayal. My own element. My own body. Turning against me while I was too broken to fight back.
I rubbed my temple, frustration building. "Do you know the reason? I mean—why is this happening?"
Honestly, I didn’t expect her to say anything. I figured she’d look away, maybe offer some vague emotional comfort. But instead, she surprised me again.
She nodded. "Yeah. I do."
That snapped my focus back to her. "You do? What is it then?"
I was so sure. So absolutely, fucking sure it was the Nothing element. That silent, black hole of a trait. It had to be that. Right?
She looked straight at me and opened her mouth.
"It’s your Amethyst Lightning."
I blinked. "Yeah... right." I nodded distractedly.
Then my brain caught up.
My eyes widened. "Wait—say that again?"
She repeated it slowly. "Your Amethyst Lightning element. That’s the cause."
I froze, mouth slightly agape.
"No, no, that’s impossible," I muttered. "That cursed thing has to be—wait, you’re saying the lightning is doing this?"
Mia nodded again, more firmly this time. "Yes. I read about it in one of the Academy’s library book. Amethyst Lightning is incredibly rare—so rare it was considered extinct. But it has unique properties, one of which is memory corrosion. High-level users can project its effects onto enemies—make them forget their sword techniques, their spells, even personal memories."
She swallowed. "But if used recklessly? The element turns inward. It devours the user first."
I stared at her, mind spinning.
"Are you hearing yourself? That’s like saying I’ve been wielding a goddamn parasite all this time!"
"I am hearing myself," she said sharply. "And I’ve been watching it happen to you every day! At first I didn’t think much of it but now I have seen the erosion percentage go up from 2.04% to 10%. It was a really big jump."
I turned away, my hand gripping the edge of her desk. "No, no. That doesn’t make sense. Shouldn’t it be the nothing element? That one’s supposed to be unstable. You’re telling me the thing that saved me more times than I can count is the same thing tearing my brain apart?"
She tilted her head, frowning. "What do you mean ’other element’? You only have one affinity."
Her words made me pause. ’She can’t even hear it. What the fuck.....’
She looked confused. "Yeah. My system lets me see elemental affinities. It’s not super detailed, just tells me what type someone has a bond with. Leon has three—spatial, temporal, and ice. You? You have one."
My blood turned cold.
She could see affinities? Since when? Why the hell hadn’t she said anything earlier?
"One?" I repeated quietly. "Only... one?"
"Yeah. Amethyst Lightning. That’s it."
I wanted to scream. But instead, I just pressed my hand against my forehead, as if that could keep the growing migraine at bay.
’So the Nothing element... doesn’t even register?’
Then what the hell is it?
A glitch? A sealed trait? Or worse... something I shouldn’t have in the first place?
No. Focus. One problem at a time.
I took several slow, shaky breaths.
"Okay," I said. "Do you know a way to stop this? To fix it?"
She nodded slowly. "My system says there’s a method to halt or suppress the corrosion. It’s buried somewhere in the system’s evolution tree. That’s why I was training so hard. I wanted to evolve it—force it to reveal the next stage. The next cure."
My hands balled into fists. "That’s not how we’re doing this. No more collapsing in arenas, no more overexerting yourself."
"No buts!" I snapped. "I don’t care if the system has the cure. It’s the last resort, you hear me? You’re going to the library. You’re going to research. Read books, ask professors, steal a damn grimoire or tome or whatever is here. But if you have to. Just... do it smart."
She crossed her arms and glared at me. "Fine. But if I don’t find anything, you’ll let me train again."
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "We’ll cross that bridge if we get there."
She grinned, victorious.
And somehow, even through all this chaos, I couldn’t help but be glad.
Because despite the storm in my mind...
At least someone was still fighting for me.