The embers of the campfires had long died out. The soldiers of both units—those of Tanya and those of Itsumi—remained in a temporary state of calm, sprawled across the open field or leaning against trees, talking quietly, some laughing, others resting.
The tension of battle had faded into the background, replaced by silence and fatigue.
Itsumi, now sitting under the shade of a tree, kept his rifle close as always. But this time, Viktoriya Ivanovna Serebryakov sat beside him—close, but not too close. She respected his space, yet she had managed something nobody else could: she had pierced through the invisible wall that surrounded him.
Itsumi didn't look at her, but his body language spoke volumes. He wasn't tense. He didn't recoil. He allowed her presence. In his world, that was trust—more trust than he had ever given anyone in his own squad.
The hours passed slowly.
There were no new orders, no movement on the front, no sudden air raids or commands to march. It was a rare moment of calm. Tanya's unit and the foreign soldiers found themselves mingling, exchanging stories and jokes, a strange camaraderie forming in the shadow of shared bloodshed.
And in the middle of it all, Viktoriya did the unthinkable.
She made him talk.
"So…" she started gently, sipping from her canteen, "was that the first time you've had jam in a long time?"
Itsumi glanced at her. His expression was unreadable, but his voice—though cold—was calm. "...It was the first time I've had anything that tasted sweet. Since I joined the war… maybe even before that."
Viktoriya looked at him, surprised. "Before?"
He hesitated. His eyes lowered slightly.
"Even at home," he said quietly, "my mother and sister… they loved me, but we didn't have much. Food was never something we could enjoy. Just something to keep us alive."
Viktoriya's lips parted, stunned by the admission. She wanted to say something, anything—but she knew better. So she just gave him a small, warm smile.
"Well… I'm glad you had it now," she said softly.
Itsumi said nothing, but his gaze lingered on her for a second too long. That, too, said more than words.
From a short distance, Tanya Degurechaff observed them, arms crossed, lips pressed in a thin line. That boy… he was unusual. Not just in the way he fought, or the way he reacted to nothing, but in how much silence surrounded him. Silence that screamed volumes.
"Who are you?" Tanya muttered under her breath.
The wind stilled.
The leaves stopped rustling.
A coldness crept into the air—a still, unnatural frost that ran along the ground like fingers of ice.
And then... he appeared.
A light flared, divine and oppressive. Time seemed to halt. The world turned monochrome. Tanya stiffened instantly, her instincts flaring, because she recognized this presence all too well.
"Being X…!"
She turned, her eyes narrowing as the glowing figure hovered before her, untouched by wind or gravity, radiating an aura of authority that pressed against her chest.
"I see you're as perceptive as ever, Tanya Degurechaff," Being X said, his voice echoing across dimensions.
"What do you want now?" Tanya spat. "Haven't you meddled enough?"
Being X gave no answer at first. His gaze drifted past her… toward Itsumi.
Tanya followed that gaze, eyes narrowing further.
"That boy," Being X said solemnly. "He is not from this world. He's from your old one."
The words froze Tanya in place. Her breath hitched. "...What?"
"He's human," Being X continued, "just like you once were. He came from the same Earth. But unlike you—who lived a life of luxury, intelligence, and ambition—he lived one of abandonment, humiliation, and despair."
Tanya's eyes widened. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that you," Being X said slowly, "are the product of pride. The peak of ego. You abused your power in your past life. You manipulated people like tools, mocked belief, and reveled in superiority."
Tanya clenched her fists. "I earned everything. I survived because I was better. Because I worked harder—"
"And he," Being X interrupted coldly, "is the opposite of everything you were."
The world darkened slightly as Being X's voice filled the air, deeper now.
"Itsumi was born into neglect. His parents ignored him. The world hated him. He was mocked at school. Abused. Starved for affection. While you climbed the corporate ladder and laughed at the suffering of others, he was on the edge of a rooftop, ready to end it all."
Tanya felt a lump rise in her throat, unbidden.
"And just before he jumped…" Being X whispered, "I appeared. I gave him a new life. A purpose."
Her eyes snapped toward the boy in the distance, sitting beneath the tree beside Viktoriya—his posture slightly hunched, eyes half-lidded with weariness, but calm.
"How old was he?" Tanya asked. "When you… found him?"
"Fifteen," Being X replied. "Fifteen years old, and already broken."
Tanya's mouth went dry.
"You represent the ruthlessness of success," Being X said. "He represents the silence of suffering. You crushed others. He was crushed by all. You have forgotten your past. He cannot forget it."
Tanya took a step back, heart pounding. "Why… why bring someone like that here? What's your goal?"
Being X looked at her—no longer with disdain, but with a strange sorrow in his glowing eyes.
"To remind you," he said softly, "that not every soul I touch is a weapon. Sometimes, I offer salvation to those the world threw away."
Tanya grit her teeth. "You think this is salvation?"
"Compared to what awaited him?" Being X answered. "Yes."
He paused. His voice dropped into a whisper.
"You are the embodiment of evilness, Tanya Degurechaff. He is the embodiment of innocence."
Tanya stared at him, wide-eyed and shaken.
And just like that, Being X vanished. The frost faded. The wind returned. Time resumed.
Tanya stood still for a long moment, staring at the boy by the tree. Her lips trembled. For the first time in a long while, she had no answers—only questions.
And Being X, as always, left without offering any of them.