Dancing on the golden ashes

Suddenly, everything began to blur before my eyes, the once-clear vision twisting and distorting as if reality itself had started to unravel. The images flickered and shifted, unstable and fragmented, like a delicate flame struggling against the wind. The last thing I saw before it all dissolved into chaos was the demon woman placing her hand firmly against the chest of the other me. Whatever happened after that remained unknown, as an unbearable wave of pain erupted inside me, tearing through my body with a force so overwhelming it felt as though my very soul was being crushed. It struck me with an intensity that left me gasping, my muscles seizing as if fire itself coursed through my veins. Yet beneath that agony, I felt something else — something cold yet powerful, seeping into me like an unstoppable current. The energy was dark and foreign, yet it flowed with such strength and purity that I couldn't resist its pull. It flooded my body in a rush, filling every corner of my being with a power so immense that for a fleeting moment, I felt invincible. The sensation was unlike anything I had ever experienced — a strength so absolute that for a single breath, I believed nothing in existence could stop me. The air trembled violently around me, shivering as though the very world strained beneath the weight of the energy now surging through me. The ground beneath me, once solid and unyielding, crumbled away as jagged rocks disintegrated into nothing more than dust. My body, which had felt heavy and sluggish only moments before, now seemed impossibly light, and I found myself rising steadily upward, as though gravity itself no longer held any control over me. My arm moved on its own, my fingers curling as a cold numbness spread through my hand. Before I could even understand what was happening, a black scythe formed in my grasp — the cold metal pulsing with an unnatural energy. The blade was jagged and cruel, curving like a crescent moon bathed in darkness, and faint traces of violet flames flickered along its surface. My fingers clenched tightly around the weapon's handle, both hands locking in place as if the power now guiding me refused to let go. Before I could resist, my body surged forward, and the scythe moved as if carried by a will far stronger than my own. The blade cut through the air with a low, ominous hum, slicing so fast that my eyes struggled to follow. A black arc of energy streaked outward, tearing through the void itself. The emptiness in its path seemed to shatter like fragile glass, and from that rupture, a figure stumbled out — his body split cleanly in half. For a moment, I believed it was over, but the pieces of his body twisted and writhed as if puppets on invisible strings. Threads of glowing light slithered across the severed flesh, pulling the two halves back together until, in seconds, he stood whole once again. It was the Creator. He remained still, watching me in silence, his expression oddly conflicted. There was no anger in his eyes, no twisted satisfaction. Instead, he stared at me with something far more unsettling — a mixture of fascination and hesitation, as though he was unsure whether to destroy me or reach out with some twisted form of affection. What was that vision? Gaon! I screamed in my mind, yet no voice answered. The presence that once whispered to me had grown silent, her voice gone as though she had retreated into the void itself. Perhaps she couldn't answer... or perhaps she had chosen not to. After all, she had already revealed so much, and perhaps that was all she had intended to show. "So you were truly alive... even after the war... Gaon, my love..." That voice — syrupy and sickening — crawled from the Creator's lips, each word laced with a twisted fondness that made my stomach churn. His tone alone was enough to make me sick, but the smile on his face was worse. It was stretched and forced, a grotesque attempt at tenderness that only made my skin crawl. His lips curled in a way that felt unnatural, a hollow smile that clung to his face like a mask that refused to fall. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to tear it from him, to rip away that sickening expression until there was nothing left. "You have no right to speak hers or my name," my voice spat back, sharp and cold, yet it was no longer my voice that spoke. The words tumbled from my mouth, yet I knew they weren't mine. The other me — the one who had lingered inside me all this time — had seized control, and her emotions now poured from my lips like venom. "You have no right to interfere in her fate," she continued, her voice rising with bitterness that seemed to burn the air itself. "I am not her, and she is not me. We lived different lives... and unlike me, she was happy until you took it away. I understood that through her. I realized I made a mistake... I should have stayed. I should have stayed with those people, instead of following you. I should have remained with my mother and father... and my brother..." A dry laugh escaped, one laced with exhaustion and regret. "Well... at least in my timeline, they weren't such pricks." Even as those words left my mouth, I felt her lingering presence anchoring itself deeper inside me. Right now, I was no longer in control. The other me — the one who had lived and suffered long before I had even existed — had taken over completely. She spoke through me, moved through me, and carried my emotions as if they were her own. Yet somehow, I knew this wasn't unique to me. There were others like her — remnants of forgotten souls, lingering fragments of consciousness that drifted through this world. Most of them seemed to remain in a slumber so deep that their hosts never realized they were even there. Only a few had awakened, and those few had taken control just like she had done to me. Perhaps that was why Jeong Suhan or Nam Ji-ho followed creator. Perhaps they never possessed an entity like this at all or if they did, perhaps they had it removed. After all, they had willingly sold their souls to the Creator, abandoning whatever traces of their true selves had once existed. They were nothing more than cowards, spineless lapdogs clinging to power they didn't even understand…