The deserted road stretched like an endless line beneath the cloudy sky. Cold wind whistled through the trees, carrying the scent of dampness and death. Rasen rose unsteadily from the ground, dried blood crusted on his lips and Clear's pendant pressed tightly against his chest. Despair consumed him as he ran toward Evans, who lay unconscious—his body frail, like a leaf about to snap.
"Don't move. I'll get help," Rasen said, trying to stay firm despite his own labored breathing.
"Wa...it..." Evans murmured, his voice cracked and his eyes barely open.
A motor shattered the silence. A red car emerged from the shadows, screeching to a stop. From it stepped a woman with crimson hair and piercing sky-blue eyes that radiated both command and mystery.
Her name was Cristal—though Rasen would only learn that moments later. She exuded a calm that clashed eerily with the tense air. Behind her, a masked man descended in silence. His very presence felt dangerous, as if peril walked beside him.
"I arrived in time," Cristal muttered, eyeing Rasen with a calculated gaze. "What are you waiting for? Help me, Lionel."
Lionel lifted Evans with careful, practiced hands, placing him in the back seat. Rasen watched warily, but the urgency of the moment left him no choice.
"Who are you?" he asked, torn between exhaustion and distrust.
"Temporary allies," Cristal replied, a faint smile curling her lips. "Call me Cristal."
Rasen swallowed hard, a knot tightening in his throat. He didn't trust them, but there were no better options.
I accept their help… for Evans' sake.
Without further explanation, the car sped away, leaving behind the echo of the night and the weight of everything that had just happened.
Four months later, they remained hidden in an abandoned house, living under a constant cloud of uncertainty and surveillance. Evans, trapped in the pain of his body and mind, began to fall apart. The atmosphere grew heavier by the day, and Cristal's commanding presence only fueled Evans' growing resentment.
"That woman… she's poison," Evans muttered through gritted teeth as he paced the room.
"She's all we have, Evans," Rasen replied calmly, though deep inside, he harbored his own doubts.
Consumed by desperation, Evans began slicing his palms open, slowly and deliberately. Rasen reacted instantly, wrapping the wounds with a cloth as he fought to stay calm.
"You can't keep doing this," Rasen said, his voice trembling with concern.
"What do you want me to do?" Evans snapped, rage boiling in his voice. "Trust her? She's manipulating you, Rasen. You don't see it—but she is."
That night, while Evans retreated into his private storm, Rasen discovered an old backpack hidden beneath the bed. Inside were worn-out photos and documents referencing the Red Moon incident.
One name stood out among the papers: Sanathiel.
A chill ran down Rasen's spine. As he flipped through the pages, pieces began to fall into place, delivering a truth that struck like lightning: Evans was not just a companion in suffering.
He was his brother.
The revelation stunned him. Before he could process it, a noise behind the door snapped him back to reality. Evans stormed in, fury etched across his face.
"What are you doing with my stuff?" Evans yelled, marching toward him.
Rasen met his gaze calmly, though chaos churned inside him.
"You knew, didn't you? You've always known who I am."
Evans' face hardened, his breath shallow and erratic.
"So what?" he spat. "My life was already ruined before you showed up. And now that you know, what will you do?"
Snatching the photos from Rasen's hands, Evans let out a bitter laugh before dropping the truth like a hammer.
"Your precious Aisha and that man—Sanathiel—they're the ones who killed our father. And I won't rest until I destroy them."
The words hit like a blow to the chest. Rage, confusion, and betrayal surged through Rasen. Before he could respond, Evans hurled a lamp against the wall, shattering it into a thousand shards.
Three days later...
That night, Evans didn't eat. He just sat before the broken window, staring at the storm.
"You know what the worst part of the truth is, Rasen?" he asked without turning. "You can't go back."
By morning, Evans was gone. The room was empty. The documents and photos—vanished. A cryptic address arrived on Rasen's phone, leading him to an abandoned building.
The place reeked of decay. Graffiti covered the walls, doors hung rusted, and every step on broken glass echoed like the ticking of a dying clock. And there he was—at the edge of the void, surrounded by shattered bottles and scattered pills.
"Evans, what are you doing?" Rasen asked, stepping forward with care.
"Don't come closer," Evans growled, holding a shard of glass, ready to harm himself. "You can't fix what's broken in me. You have purpose… I'm just what's left of a forgotten name."
"Wait—don't say that… You have me, your younger brother!" Rasen shouted, his voice cracking with urgency.
The struggle was inevitable. Rasen managed to disarm him, but both crashed to the ground. Evans collapsed, defeated by exhaustion and grief.
"I'd rather drown than keep seeing your face," Evans whispered before losing consciousness.
Rasen gasped. A sharp pain burned in his abdomen. The ceiling spun, and warm blood pooled beneath him. He felt the world dim, like his existence was being swallowed by a void.
Looking down, he saw the deep cut the glass had left. Coldness seeped into his bones as he collapsed, unable to stay upright.
In the midst of darkness, a voice echoed in his mind.
"Let me in… and I will free you from the pain."
A figure cloaked in shadows appeared, eyes glowing like fire in the void.
"I am the Banished One, the forgotten. But I am also your salvation. Let me in… and I will give you power."
What if I lose myself in you? Rasen whispered, like a child facing a god.
"You're already lost. I only offer direction."
Suspended between life and death, Rasen felt his soul tremble on the edge of an abyss.
"If I accept… will Sariel be free from pain too?" he asked, torn between fear and hope.
"You will be stronger. Together, you will face what's coming. But the price is simple—let me dwell within the corner of yourself you've always denied."
With the last spark of will, Rasen said, "I will. If this means saving Sariel… and saving myself."
The Banished One reached out. Rasen took his hand.
Invisible chains pierced his skin, wrapping him in dark fire that healed his wounds even as it transformed him. His second heart beat for the first time, its echo thunderous within his chest, as if the Banished One now lived inside him.
When Rasen opened his eyes, the second heart pulsed with fury. The marks of the chains burned across his skin.
The pact was sealed.
And though part of him screamed to run, another—older, more broken—begged for that power. For an end to loneliness.
From that moment, he knew he'd never be the same again. No matter how far he ran… the demon was already inside him.
The second heart didn't just beat. It roared, like the beast within had been waiting for its release.
"This is only the beginning, Rasen," the Banished One whispered, as his words vanished into the night.
And as darkness devoured the final breath of the day, Rasen understood...
He had just become the weapon of the very thing he once swore to destroy.