Young Master's PoV: Woke Up As A Villain In A Game One Day

My body went cold. My eyes widened.

My breathing grew shallow. And my knees threatened to buckle beneath me.

For the first time since I had unwillingly been pulled into this nightmare, I began to tear up.

I tried my best not to give in and cry my heart out... because I knew if I did, I’d be trapped here.

But all my effort was for nothing.

Because the moment she spoke next... I broke down.

"Has it been tough without me, Sam?"

Her voice was like a ray of sunlight splitting a stormcloud. It was soft, warm, and impossibly real.

The way she said my name — no one else ever said it like that. Not even in my dreams. It crawled under my skin, bypassed every defense, and struck straight at the boy I used to be.

I clenched my jaw, but my throat trembled.

My fingers, stiff as stone, began to shake.

I clawed weakly at her arms as they tightened around me.

...She was so close that I could smell her perfume — the faint rose and smoke scent I remembered from my childhood. A scent I had buried so deep beneath memories and pain that I’d forgotten it until now.

"I’m so proud of you," she whispered. Her words were velvet over razors. "I’ve watched you all this time. You’ve been so strong... so brave. All alone, carrying so much. I’m sorry I had to leave you. I’m so sorry, baby."

My chest caved under the weight of her voice.

I wanted to believe it.

I wanted to turn and bury my face into her shoulder.

I wanted the years of bitterness to dissolve in that single embrace.

But I didn’t. Not yet.

I stopped myself.

...I stopped myself until I couldn’t anymore.

My knees gave way. I collapsed to the ground, and it was like a dam burst inside me.

Tears I’d fought so hard to hold back spilled over.

I started weeping. My voice was raw and unrestrained. Everything — every bit of hate and anger — I had been withholding since I lost my mother clawed its way out.

One of her hands moved up and began stroking my head gently, the way she used to.

That did it.

I cried harder, and harder still, until I couldn’t even breathe properly.

...But I wasn’t crying because she was holding me again after all these years.

I was crying because her touch felt... wrong.

And—

"Th-this isn’t her scent," I choked between hiccups and sobs. "This... isn’t her voice!"

The rose-and-smoke perfume was just a little strong. She had never smelled quite like this.

Her voice was just a pitch higher. She had never sounded quite like this either.

...Or maybe she had.

I couldn’t tell...

I couldn’t remember anymore!

I was crying because I was forgetting...

I was forgetting my own mother...

That realization hit me like a physical blow.

Her arms tightened even more around me — just enough to feel real, just enough to burn.

I clawed at them again, desperate to break free.

This wasn’t her.

I knew this wasn’t her.

I gasped and curled into myself on the cold, empty ground. My tears blurred the endless nothingness around me.

I was... I really was forgetting her.

I couldn’t remember her properly.

I was losing her!

I was losing the memory of my own mother!

"It’s fine," she breathed against my ear, sounding falsely tender. "I’m right here. I’m right here."

Her voice carried the cadence of comfort but none of its soul.

Each word she uttered was soft, yet hollow... and still, my heart ached at the sound.

"You... you’re not her," I rasped. My fingernails dug into her wrists but found no strength to push her away. "You’re not my mother..."

"I’m right here," she repeated, smoother now, like a lullaby. "I never left you, my baby."

I shook my head. My tears rolled down her hands, soaking into something that was not skin. "Stop— stop saying that! You’re not her! You’re not—"

The next words never left my mouth. My hands slipped from her arms and fell limp at my sides.

Because even knowing the truth, I couldn’t...

I couldn’t just shove her off.

I had spent nights as a child praying for this, praying for her, for even a whisper of her voice.

I had begged the stars, the gods, anyone who would listen, to give me back my mother after she gave her life to drag me back from death.

And now here she was — wrong and false and imperfect — but here

nonetheless. My head fell back against her shoulder, and my body trembled violently.

"I missed you," I sobbed. "I missed you so much!"

Her fingers threaded through my hair in the same old rhythm. The rhythm I had dreamed of.

"Shh," she cooed. "You don’t have to suffer anymore. You can stay right here. Because I’m right here."

I kept telling myself it was an illusion.

But my arms rose anyway, and weakly clung to her like a drowning child to driftwood.

That was when the cracks in the darkness around me began to close. One by one, thin seams of light flickered out, swallowed by the encroaching black.

Soon, it was all reduced to nothing but me and her.

My attention snapped. I instinctively tried to get up... but she pulled me back down.

Her hand kept patting my head as she repeated the same thing over and over — the same thing I had always wanted to hear deep down:

"It’s fine. I’ll never leave you again. Never, my baby."

And I could do nothing but cry helplessly into her.

Until my throat was sore. Until the last sliver of light extinguished. Until there was nothing left but the dark, and her arms, and the faint warmth that wasn’t hers.

I was trapped.

I was trapped with my mother who wasn’t my mother at all.

And still, I grabbed onto her.

Because I feared I’d lose her completely if I let go.

So I didn’t...

•••

"Gaaah!"

A ragged gasp tore itself from my throat as I jolted awake.

My eyes fluttered open and I shot upright into a sitting position, frantically taking in my surroundings.

...It seemed I was lying on a carpet of moss.

Massive trees surrounded me from every direction, their canopies obscuring the view as far as I could see.

High above, the starless night sky was cracked, and at its zenith, surrounded by dangling shards of broken reality, hung a bleeding red moon.

Okay. From the looks of it, I wasn’t inside the illusion anymore.

...Probably.

"Now, where are the others?" I muttered, narrowing my bleary eyes.

I was about to push myself to my feet and survey the area when an all-too-familiar voice rang out from behind me.

"Oh, look who’s finally awake!"

I whipped my head around... only to see Alexia carrying an unconscious Kang over her shoulders in a fireman’s carry.

Behind her, in the distance, was the ancient temple we had so foolishly decided to explore.

No, seriously. What was Michael thinking suggesting we go inside, huh?

Anyway, judging by where I was and what Alexia was doing, it was safe to assume she’d been the one to drag me out of the temple.

"Don’t need to thank me or anything, Lord Samael," she called with a smug smirk. "It’s not like I saved your life or something like that. Oh, wait! I did! Fine, fine. If you insist, you can recommend me for the Medal of Bravery. But make sure it’s the Golden Duke who awards me, please. I have a reputation to uphold."

She came to a stop... a few feet to my left.

And instead of me, she was very obviously talking to a... tree.

It was only then that I realized she didn’t have her Origin Card active.

"...I’m here," I said flatly.

Alexia froze, then turned her head toward my voice, looking slightly embarrassed. "Of course, of course. I was merely admiring this beautiful flower in front of me."

There was no flower in front of her.

She twirled and walked toward where she thought I was... but this time ended up arriving in front of a boulder.

"Right! So as I was saying, there’s no need to thank me!" And now she was talking to that boulder.

I facepalmed, then got up myself, and stepped over to her.

As I helped her unload Kang onto the ground, I asked, "So, what happened?"

"You’re asking me?!" she shrieked. "That’s what I’ve been asking all of you! You were all talking about some ’things,’ but no one clarified anything to me! Then you ordered everyone to run out of the temple, so I did! But halfway out, I realized no one was following me. I tried calling you all out, but no one answered. My Cards weren’t working, so I had to stumble around in the dark until I found you all frozen in place. Nobody was moving. After a lot of shaking and slapping, I decided I’d have to carry you all out one by one. So I picked the nearest person — you — and dragged you out first."

"Huh? I see. You weren’t affected by those eyes. Must be because you didn’t see them." I nodded, then immediately winced. "Ouch! Why does my neck hurt so much?"

Alexia blinked, then looked away. "Oh... I may have dropped you on your head on the way out."

"...What?!" I exclaimed, somewhere between outraged and wary. "You dropped me? On my head?!"

Alexia coughed into her hand, looking anywhere but at me. "Well, in my defense, you’re heavier than you look. And also, the ground was... uneven."

"Uneven? The jungle ground was uneven?" I rubbed my neck furiously. "That’s your excuse?!"

"Yes," she said with confidence. "Tragically uneven. I myself am a victim, Samael. A victim of unfortunate topography."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Aren’t you some kind of once-in-a-generation martial arts prodigy? You should be capable enough to walk on uneven fucking ground! Yet you almost cracked my skull open!"

"Well," she said, tilting her head with mock thoughtfulness, "to be fair, you already act like someone with brain damage, so I don’t think it would’ve made much of a difference."

My jaw dropped. "Did you just—?!"

"Hey," she cut in, folding her arms, "I’m hearing a lot of complaints and too little thanks. I saved your life. You should be building gold statues of me in your garden by now."

"Statues?!" I barked. "I wouldn’t even hang a portrait of you in my broom closet!"

"Wow," she sniffed, affronted. "I didn’t know the new-generation Theosbanes had grown to be so ungrateful. What happened to your family always paying their debts, huh?"

I groaned and dragged my hands over my face while telling myself: "Don’t kill her, Sam. Don’t kill her. She’s important."

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While we bickered, Kang stirred softly on the moss, letting out a weak groan before slumping back down.

That reminded us there was still something far bigger going on than Alexia’s incompetence and my impending aneurysm.

I exhaled sharply. "Alright. Enough. I’ll wake him. You go in and carry the others out of the temple."

"Roger," Alexia nodded, dusting off her sleeves. Then she cocked her head, staring blankly at empty air two feet to my right. "By the way, don’t come near the temple. Even after leaving its gates, my Soul Arsenal stays suppressed for a few minutes. And as soon as I go back inside, it gets suppressed all over again. So whatever had you all frozen might still be active in there."

I glared at her. "Yeah, that’s good to know, but... I’m over here."

She blinked again, then quickly adjusted her stance. "Yes, yes. I knew that. I was simply... testing your reflexes. You failed."