2. Lost Moon
Izala closed his eyes.
He didn't know how long he had been here. An hour? A day? A year?
That voice kept whispering in his mind. The images in the mirrors kept replaying: Mutsukumo turning his back on him, his hands covered in blood, standing beside Velkion, indifferently watching him disappear.
Izala's chest tightened slightly.
He knew very well it was just an illusion. But the familiarity of the scene made him feel...
Uneasy.
Whose emotion was this?
His? Or that of the person he once was?
Mutsukumo had never turned his back on him. No one capable of making him leave had ever existed.
Velkion wanted to use him to break him. But there was one thing Velkion didn't know.
Izala was not someone who would waver easily.
"...How boring."
He sighed and opened his eyes.
At that moment, the chains suddenly snapped. The mirrors trembled violently, each one shattering and revealing a dark corridor.
Izala stepped out of the room. Nothing could hold him back anymore.
On the other side of the illusion, Mutsukumo was still trapped.
Izala saw him standing in a burning forest, clutching a knife. Flames reflected in his eyes, but their light could not warm him.
"You've always been a monster."
A voice echoed from the shadows.
Izala watched him for a long time.
Was this really the Mutsukumo he knew?
No.
He wasn't someone who would stand still when bound. He wasn't someone who would tremble at mere words.
Mutsukumo wasn't like that.
Izala stepped forward and snatched the knife from his hand.
He didn't react.
Izala looked at him for a moment, then stabbed the blade straight into his shoulder.
The knife pierced through his clothes and sank deep into his flesh. Blood spilled down.
Mutsukumo flinched. He looked up.
Izala leaned down and spoke slowly:
"Wake up, Mutsukumo."
His eyes widened slightly. The illusion around them began to tremble.
Reality returned with a sharp jolt of pain.
Mutsukumo gasped, confusion flashing in his eyes for a second before he glared at Izala.
"...You really stabbed me?"
Izala withdrew the knife and replied calmly:
"The fastest way to wake you up."
Mutsukumo licked his lips and chuckled. He touched the wound, blood staining his fingertips.
"This method... is surprisingly effective."
Izala said nothing. He turned away, his eyes indifferent, though inside he felt a slight relief.
Velkion had tried to divide them. But he had been wrong from the start.
Because Izala always knew who Mutsukumo was-and so did Mutsukumo.
Even if the world twisted their forms, they would still recognize each other.
"Oh? You two got out?"
Velkion's voice echoed, tinged with amusement.
"Interesting. But..."
His figure began to appear before them, lips curling into a cryptic smile.
"The game isn't over yet."
---
Izala and Mutsukumo stood facing Velkion.
He leaned against the distorted wall of the illusion, his smile betraying his delight.
"You both escaped? I must say, I'm impressed."
Izala said nothing, silently pulling the knife from Mutsukumo's wound. Blood dripped onto the warped floor of the illusion, dissolving into faint glimmers of light.
Velkion tilted his head, observing.
"Let's see... Izala, what did you see? And Mutsukumo, what about you?"
Mutsukumo didn't answer right away. He touched his wound, then looked directly at Velkion, a dangerous gleam in his eyes.
"You really want to know?"
He smirked and licked the blood from his finger.
"Let me give you a simple answer."
Then he lunged.
Velkion instantly retreated, but Mutsukumo was faster.
He slashed, leaving a cut on Velkion's cheek.
Dark blood oozed out, yet Velkion showed no pain.
Instead, he laughed.
"Ha... you're strong."
He wiped the blood away, his eyes shining with twisted excitement.
"But do you really think such a tiny knife can kill me?"
Izala watched everything calmly. He knew Velkion was not someone to be taken lightly.
He could manipulate fear, turn vague thoughts into deadly weapons.
If they weren't careful, even someone like Mutsukumo could fall again.
And Izala wouldn't allow that to happen.
Velkion raised his hand. Space shattered-twisting mirrors reflected hundreds of versions of Izala and Mutsukumo.
In each mirror, they were killing each other.
Izala stabbed Mutsukumo in the heart.
Mutsukumo strangled Izala with bloodied hands.
They stood in a dark room, eyes empty, unable to recognize one another.
Izala's brows furrowed.
Velkion smirked.
"You see, Izala? This world is nothing but a series of wrong choices. One day, you'll be the one to destroy Mutsukumo."
Izala stared at him.
Then he let out a soft chuckle.
Mutsukumo tilted his head, watching him.
Izala laughed-but there was no joy in that smile.
"Velkion, you really talk too much."
A glint of coldness flashed in his eyes.
"You think I'd fall for these illusions?"
The space trembled. Cracks ran through the mirrors.
Velkion stiffened slightly.
Izala stepped forward.
"You want me to doubt Mutsukumo?"
He kept walking, stepping over shattered glass.
"To doubt myself?"
His grip tightened on the knife, voice dropping low.
"You were wrong from the start, Velkion."
---
Before Velkion could react, Izala hurled the knife.
It spun through the air, aimed straight at him.
Velkion dodged just in time-but in that brief moment, Mutsukumo was already behind him.
A cold blade pressed to his neck, and Velkion froze.
Mutsukumo whispered by his ear, smirking.
"This time... it's my turn."
Velkion remained still, his breathing slowed.
He wasn't afraid, but his laughter had ceased.
Izala looked at him, voice steady.
"You tried to create enemies between us."
He tilted his head slightly, eyes sharp.
"But don't you understand, Velkion?"
He leaned in and whispered:
"We'll never side with you."
The illusion shattered completely.
Izala and Mutsukumo felt weightless as they fell into darkness-this time, without any mirrored reflection.
Velkion stood still, watching them disappear.
He touched the wound on his neck, then chuckled softly.
"How amusing..."
He turned and vanished into the mist.
---
When Izala opened his eyes, he realized they had returned to the real world.
No more mirrors. No more illusions. Just the night sky, cold air, and the pounding of his heart.
Mutsukumo sighed, rolled onto his side, and rested his head on his hand, watching him.
"...You're not scared?"
Izala closed his eyes, not answering right away.
After a moment, he replied quietly:
"Scared of what?"
Mutsukumo chuckled lazily.
"What you saw."
Izala opened his eyes, looking at him.
After a long pause, he said:
"We're still alive."
Mutsukumo was silent for a few seconds, then laughed.
"...Yeah, fair point."
He reached out and pulled Izala closer.
No need for words.
Tonight, that was enough.
---
The night was quiet, only the soft rustling of wind through the trees remained.
Mutsukumo didn't sleep. He lay on his side, one arm over his forehead, eyes tracing Izala's features.
Izala slept peacefully.
No dreams. No frown.
It felt unfamiliar to Mutsukumo.
He was used to seeing Izala aloof and detached, as if the world wasn't important enough to matter.
But tonight, on the edge of life and death, Izala had chosen to stand beside him.
No doubt. No hesitation.
Mutsukumo smiled faintly.
"How strange."
He wasn't sure what he was talking about.
Izala?
Or himself?
Izala stirred, his eyes half-open.
Their gazes met. Instead of looking away, Izala simply asked:
"...Still awake?"
Mutsukumo shrugged.
"Not sleepy."
Izala was silent for a while, then gently closed his eyes.
"Then just keep watching."
Mutsukumo paused.
He had meant to make a joke-but the words caught in his throat.
Something had changed.
It wasn't like before.
No more hunting games.
No more veiled meanings.
Just Izala lying there, telling him to keep watching.
Mutsukumo didn't look away.
He watched for a long time, as if etching this image into memory.
Only when Izala was truly asleep did he close his eyes.
Silence fell, only the sound of calm breathing blending into the night.
This time, he slept.
---
The Next Morning
Izala woke first.
He sat up and put on his coat, but just as he was about to stand, a hand grabbed his wrist.
Mutsukumo hadn't opened his eyes yet, but his sleepy voice murmured:
"...Where are you going?"
Izala paused for a moment, then replied simply:
"Preparing for the next mission."
Mutsukumo opened his eyes, watched him for a while, then let go.
He chuckled softly.
"You really never take a break, huh?"
Izala didn't respond. He simply stood up and walked outside.
Mutsukumo watched his back, something thoughtful in his eyes.
This mission was far more dangerous.
Their target was a base where dark rituals were being performed.
From what they had gathered, the ritual could cause irreversible transformations-turning people into something no longer themselves.
No one knew how far it had progressed.
No one knew if it could be stopped.
And more than anything-
No one knew if they could make it out alive.
Izala knew all that.
But he still moved forward without hesitation.
Mutsukumo put on his coat, stood up, and squinted at the gray sky.
He sighed softly, but a faint smile tugged at his lips.
"...Looks like I'm following you again."
---
The base lay deep within the forest, where sunlight couldn't reach.
The air was heavy, tainted with the stench of life being strangled.
Izala and Mutsukumo stood on a high branch, observing from afar.
"This place..." Izala murmured, his eyes glinting with thought.
"What is it?" Mutsukumo asked.
Izala didn't answer right away. He stared long and hard at the scene below.
Tall black stone pillars formed a massive circle, as if for a ritual already in place.
Ancient symbols lined the stones, glowing with strange flickers of light.
Something about it... felt familiar.
But he couldn't remember why.
"Let's go down."
Mutsukumo leapt first, landing lightly among the twisted roots.
Izala followed, eyes still fixed on the symbols.
His steps faltered for a second.
A strange sensation crept into his mind.
As if a piece of memory wanted to awaken.
A voice, distant and faint...
"...Remember..."
Izala shivered, his hand clenched.
"You alright?"
Mutsukumo turned back, eyes sharp.
Izala took a deep breath and nodded.
"...I'm fine."
He knelt, pressing his palm to the cold earth.
A wave of magic pulsed outward, sweeping the area.
No living creatures.
No movement.
Only a rising surge of dark energy.
Mutsukumo narrowed his eyes.
"Looks like we came right on time."
He drew a dagger from his belt, its blade gleaming coldly.
Izala stared into the center of the ritual, where a magic circle neared completion.
He didn't know what would emerge-but he felt it.
If they let it finish-
Nothing would ever be the same again.
"Let's go."
Izala said, striding forward.
Mutsukumo smirked and followed.
Beneath the gray sky, the two of them charged into the forgotten land.
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