3 months Later
Three months had passed, and yet the world felt increasingly alien.
The air was saturated with an unsettling mix of scents—polished wood, sharp iron, and the musky softness of velvet cushions scratching against my cheek.
And then there was the weight, the heft of heavy iron shackles clamped around my wrists, biting mercilessly into my skin. A rough piece of cloth muffled my cries, choking me with its coarse fibers.
Where am I?
With great effort, I pried my heavy eyelids apart, feeling as though I were peeling away layers of stickiness that clung to my lashes.
A carriage lurched around me, its dark interior groaning in protest with each bump in the road. A faint draft, sharp and cold, crept through the gaps in the wooden walls, prickling my fevered skin like icy fingertips.
My body felt foreign—strange and frail. I could feel the sharp contours of my bones beneath the thin, parchment-like skin, a constant reminder of my malnourished state. As I shifted my bound fingers, trembling in their tight constraints in front of me, a wave of dread washed over me.
What in the world...?
"Good riddance to the scum of the Constello family," a harsh voice cut through the darkness from outside, dripping with malice. "Lady Vespera sends her regards... Eiden."
Eiden?
No.
I wasn't Eiden. I was... Killian.
But as I lay there, I realized I was also not entirely Killian.
A knotted sensation churned in my stomach, a sick twist of anxiety and confusion. My heart thudded violently against my ribs, echoing in my ears as if it were trying to break free from this fragile body.
This body—the small, sickly frame I occupied—felt utterly alien. It was pale and gaunt, almost translucent in the dim light, betraying the weakness beneath. My wrists had become so thin that they appeared fragile enough to snap like twigs under pressure.
Desperately, I twisted my hands against the cold metal chains. That's when I noticed it—a faint glimmer, just barely visible beneath the grime and filth. A silvery line, intricate threads coiling around my wrist like an ethereal bracelet.
The soul-marks.
Right.
A flicker of memory surged through me, clearer now.
I had transmigrated—three months ago—into the body of the villain Eiden.
I always found it funny how I shared the same name as the villain: Killian Eiden Constello, except that I go by Killian and the villain goes by Eiden.
Except now it was not that funny anymore. My name was tangled in the web of this world's cruelty.
I had believed I was making progress with the Constello family, that perhaps there was a shred of hope amidst their walls of hatred. I had convinced myself that the Duke's glances, once icy and dismissive, were thawing into something more genuine.
I cherished the rare, smile from the icy and cold eldest brother and the secretive smirk from the second brother, a fleeting expression that felt like acknowledgment rather than disdain.
And the teasing yet caring twins.
But now?
A sharp chill coursed through my spine, a stark realization settling over me like an oppressive cloak.
Was everything, every fleeting moment...just an elaborate deception?
Those covert smiles, the cautious glances... those rare instances I almost dared to believe they might accept me... were they all tainted with poison?
Had the Duke's unexpected warmth been nothing but a façade? Had my brothers merely played their parts, played with my emotions knowing damn well I desperately wanted their affections?
I chastised myself silently. I should have known better. I should have never allowed myself to let my guard down. My heart had already been shattered in my previous life, and now, here, it felt just as fragile. What a fool I had been.
"Such a shame to throw away such a pretty one," muttered a rough-voiced guard as he stood watch outside the carriage. "But the Duchess demands his removal. We can't allow this brat to linger, not with those exquisite jeweled violet eyes appearing from nowhere—the unmistakable sign of the Duke's true lineage. This one spells trouble, doesn't he?"
I felt a lump form in my throat, choked by the gravity of the moment.
Of course, it was the eyes.
The legendary jewel eyes of the Constello family. Deep violet hues reminiscent of crushed amethysts glimmering in the sunlight. All the Duke's legitimate sons bore them—but only a select few possessed the deeper and darker almost ethereal shade.
The mark of the true heirs.
Only those with dark violet eyes that resemble jewels can inherit. The Duke himself had them and so did his eldest two sons, destined to inherit his legacy.
And... then there was me. The boy who once had the light lilac shade but now was dark violet since waking up from a 7 day coma.
The realization struck like lightning. That was the very reason Lady Vespera longed for my demise.
Lady Vespera. The Duchess.
A vixen disguising her poisonous nature with a beautifully crafted smile. She who had woven deceit into the Duke's heart, turning his sons against one another while masquerading as the beloved matriarch. Her sweet smile concealed her insidious designs, and now she had ordered for my quiet, untraceable death.
The carriage jolted to a stop, and a wave of panic washed over me.
"Welcome to the Valley of Death's border," called the guard outside, his voice dripping with disdain. "District Nine's wasteland. We'll dispose of him here—let the monsters handle what's left."
Ice-cold fear pierced through me.
Valley of Death.
The desolate, crumbling wasteland that skirted the treacherous borders of Sin City. A graveyard for failures, where discarded church experiments and forsaken souls were unceremoniously cast away. It was a death sentence cloaked in the guise of a deep, dark night.
Sin City.
A notorious realm of underground fight rings and the infamous Pet Prison, where Kael had once been imprisoned in the novel I cherished so deeply.
Frantic, I strained against the chains binding my limbs. Panic ignited like wildfire within my chest. No. I refused to meet my end here. Not like this, not so easily.
A strange tingle ignited in my fingertips—a sensation both foreign and familiar.
The air around me... shifted. Invisible threads brushed softly against my skin, tickling my senses.
Abyss Threads.
My power, unique to me. A power that the original Eiden had never possessed. A force that I alone could rouse from its slumber.
But it wasn't time yet. Not completely. It stirred like a ferocious beast confined within me, hungry and waiting.
Later. Survive first. Then unleash the beast lurking in the abyss.
The carriage door creaked open, unleashing a gust of icy wind that snaked its way inside, chilling me to the bone.
"Don't leave too many marks," the guard chuckled, his laughter echoing with cruel delight. "The monsters prefer their meals still alive."
Rough hands seized my arms, yanking me from the carriage with a force that sent me tumbling into the icy darkness.
The night air slapped against my face like a bitter reprimand. The stench of decay and rot invaded my senses, a reminder of the horrors that surrounded me. My feet grazed against the cracked, ashen earth—each scrape a reminder of my vulnerability. My knees threatened to buckle, but I summoned what strength remained and forced myself to stand.
Before me lay the wasteland, an endless expanse of desolation. Craters of ash dotted the landscape, remnants of long-abandoned structures jutting skyward like the ribs of some ancient beast. In the distance, the red glow of Sin City's towering structures flickered ominously on the horizon, resembling dying embers of a once-roaring fire.
And behind me loomed the foreboding Valley of Death—a realm where twisted beasts roamed free. Creatures from beyond the gates as well as those who was birthed from the depths of the Church of Eternity's grotesque experiments, abandoned and forgotten by those who had once birthed them.
A low, menacing growl reverberated through the air, echoing like a distant thunderclap.
"Good luck, brat," the guard sneered disdainfully. "You're dead meat now."
The creaking wheels of the carriage faded into the night, and the guards' mocking laughter vanished into the shadows.
And then... silence enveloped me.
Alone.
Abandoned.
I staggered forward, limbs trembling and resolve wavering. The cold wind clawed at my thin garments, biting into my skin.
The heavy weight of the chains grew burdensome with every reluctant step, igniting a searing pain that coursed through my muscles. My violet eyes shimmered in the moonlight—a striking shade as deep and mesmerizing as the finest wine.
With trembling fingers, I touched the faint threads of the abyss that pulsed within my palm. They thrummed with a life of their own. Waiting. Hungry.
This was not the end for me.
It was merely the beginning.
I will survive this hellish place.
And I will rise.
Like Kael.
And one day, they would all learn—the Duchess, the corruptive church, the puppet royals, the menacing monsters, and the gods that govern this world—
That, I, the new villain of this timeline, will never lose.
And they would all kneel down before me.