The hallway was quiet.
Ambrosia Kyros walked slowly, the borrowed book held carefully against her chest. Her steps were light, almost hesitant, as if she wasn’t entirely sure she was allowed to be here.
“You can come here. Read. Sit. Drink some teas and eat some snacks here. That’s all.”
His words echoed in her mind. Simple. Too simple. That’s… really all he meant? Her fingers tightened slightly around the book. She didn’t understand him. Not at all.
“Young Lady.”
Ambrosia flinched. She turned. Standing a short distance behind her was the maid. Black hair, neatly kept beneath a mobcap. Uniform flawless. Posture perfect. Eyes half-lidded. The same one who stood behind him. His maid.
Ambrosia immediately lowered her head.
“G-Good evening.”
“Elena Eleanora,” the maid introduced calmly. “Personal attendant to Young Master Amos E. Kyros.” Her voice was flat.
“Ambrosia Kyros,” the girl replied softly.
“I am aware.”
Silence.
Ambrosia didn’t know what to say. Elena stepped closer. Quiet. Like she made no sound at all.
“You came from the Young Master’s room,” Elena stated.
“Yes.”
“And you are leaving with a book.”
“Yes.”
“I sincerely hope that you enjoy that book.”
...
Night had long fallen over the Kyros estate. The hallways were quiet. Servants walked softly beneath dim golden lights, careful not to disturb the sleeping nobles of the household.
Inside his room, Amos E. Kyros slept restlessly. His brows were furrowed. His breathing uneven.
And then darkness of sleep devours him. Endless darkness.
“Hah”
A cold breath escaped his lips. Amos slowly opened his eyes. Silence greeted him. No, Not silence rather something else. The distant crackling of flames and smoke. The metallic scent of blood. His body stiffened.
“What”
He stood in the middle of ruins. The sky above was blackened with smoke. Buildings burned around him, collapsing into ash and embers. The ground beneath his feet was fractured, stained crimson. And people. Ash drifted endlessly through the air like black snow, landing upon ruined armor and broken stone. Somewhere nearby, metal scraped against metal. A dying knight struggled weakly beneath fallen debris, reaching toward someone who would never come.
Amos could hear weeping. The kind of crying that came after hope had already died.
A child’s voice called for their mother in the distance before suddenly cutting off. The silence afterward felt heavier than the screams themselves. Flames consumed banners bearing the Kyros crest, reducing them into ashes that vanished into the darkened sky.
And above it all—
The smell.
Blood. Smoke. Burned flesh.
It clung to his lungs with every breath.
Amos felt sick.
Very sick.
There were bodies everywhere.
Knights.
Soldiers.
Servants.
Some remains as still as ground beneath them. Some groaning weakly. A sound of cries from the distance. A battlefield. Nay, a massacre would be more correct. Amos’s breathing hitched.
“What is this?”
Then, He heard it.
“Monster”
“Tyrant”
“Run! save yourself!”
His heart pounded. Someone stood ahead. At the center of the destruction. A figure dressed in black and gold. Countless people surrounded him, yet none dared approach. As if time had been stopped. No one even breathed too loudly. Fear. Pure fear. Amos slowly walked forward. His footsteps felt heavy.
Something feels wrong, no. Something must be wrong.
The closer he got, the colder the air became.
The figure moved. A hand lifted. A sword rested loosely at his side.
The man turned slightly.
And Amos froze.
Golden hair. Green eyes. A familiar face. His face.
“No.”
The older version of himself looked exhausted. His expression wasn’t angry. It was a smile, cold and empty as if watching ants fighting to protect their home. It was the face of someone who having fun. At his feet. Someone weakly reached toward him.
“P-please”
A trembling voice.
Begging.
The older Amos looked down silently. The hand reaching toward him stopped moving. Just like that. Amos staggered back.
“No.”
His chest tightened painfully.
“No no no”
The older version of himself slowly lifted his gaze. Their eyes met. Amos understood. This was not just a dream. This was possibility. The future waiting for him if he continued down the wrong path. The villain. The final boss. The monster that will bring forth the end of the world.
“You”
Amos’s voice trembled.
“That’s not me.”
The older Amos stared at him silently. A faint smile appeared. The exact smile Amos hated seeing in the mirror.
“Look who it is. You finally arrived.... @*#%@&%#^@^” the man said excitedly. His own voice. The flames around them roared louder. He was calling someone name but Amos couldn't quite catch what it who it was.
“YOU ARE QUITE LATE!”
Step.
“IF YOU THINK SUCH A CHEAP TRICKS COULD KILL ME THEN YOU BETTER CHANGE YOUR PLAN, $&^@#^#!” Again, Amos can't hear whose name the older Amos screamed.
Step.
“I ALMOST COMPLETE MY TRUE #$@#$@$#”
Amos realizes that the older him was not looking at him rather through him to the people behind him but no matter how hard he tries to, he just can't turn around his body.
“I AM GOING TO BE A $@%$”
“A LIVING PHYSICAL #@%#@#@.”
Each sentence was a declaration, that have certain words blocked from Amos to hear.
But a part of Amos knew that whatever the words blocked was an important piece of information.
The older Amos stopped directly in front of him. Looking beyond him. This allows Amos to see his future self in front of him closely.
Then, a scream echoed somewhere behind them. Amos turned instinctively and this time his body finally able to turn around. And froze.
Small pale blonde hair. Red eyes filled with fear.
Ambrosia.
She stood among the destruction trembling looking at him.
No. Looking at that version of him. Like he was a monster. Like she wanted to run but couldn’t. The older Amos glanced toward her indifferently.
“Aren't you guys gotta attack me? You might stand a chance with me having this much damage taken already.” His voice was calm.
Behind Ambrosia was few people that Amos could quite make out their face as if something was blurring them.
For the first time,
The older Amos’s expression shifted.
“Why are you guys still trying to change my minds? You should have stopped trying already.” The word sounded almost amused.
“This could only end in my death.”
“There is simply no other way.”
“You only wasting your limited time”
Older Amos who has seems to be talking to Ambrosia and the people around her then with a swift movement went to Ambrosia and her group to attack.
And the dream shattered.