I Reincarnated as the Villain… But the Hero is My Brother

Six days.

Six days until the Hero reached the capital.

Six days until I'd be forced to either fight my brother…Or die by his hand.

And now the system had added a new twist:

Reveal Your Identity — ???

What the hell did that mean?

What would happen if I just walked up to Elion and told him the truth?"Hey, it's me. Kael. I died on Earth and now I'm wearing the face of the guy you're supposed to kill. Wanna talk?"

Yeah. That'd go well.

Selira led the way through the undervault beneath the throne room — a maze of winding staircases and wards that made the air buzz against my skin. Magic ran deep here, older than memory.

"The Whisper Archives," she muttered. "Not even the royal bloodline has full access. But Lucien… well. You weren't normal royalty."

We stopped in front of a rusted gate carved with symbols — most of which pulsed faintly as I stepped forward.

As if they recognized me.

The gate opened on its own.

The room beyond was massive.

Not a library — a tomb of knowledge.

Books bound in dragonhide, scrolls that glowed with ink, floating memory crystals that whispered secrets in languages I couldn't understand.

The Whisper Archives.

Selira kept her distance. "You said you wanted to break a prophecy," she said. "You'd better hope the answer's buried in here."

I wandered through the aisles, scanning shelves.

The system hadn't spoken since the last warning. But I felt it watching. Like a spider in the web.

My fingers stopped on a faded scroll titled:

"Cycle of the Crimson Crown"

I unrolled it carefully.

"When blood mirrors blood, fate is born anew.A sovereign of flame shall rise from death.A star of light shall rise from loss.And when the two converge, the world must burn to begin again."

Another version of the prophecy.

But this one… was older. Much older.

And written in a way that made something click.

"Blood mirrors blood... rise from death..." I whispered.

Lucien and Elion.

Me and Eli.

Suddenly, I heard something.

Not a voice.

A heartbeat.

Behind me.

I turned — blade drawn — but it wasn't Selira.

It was an old man.

White beard, eyes fogged over, skin cracked like aged leather. He stood barefoot in the dark corner of the archive, hands tucked into sleeves like a monk.

"Didn't think anyone would find that scroll," he rasped.

I held my sword up. "Who are you?"

"I'm the one who keeps the records no one wants read," he said. "Name's Haleth. You might say I'm the librarian of forgotten truths."

"What do you know about this prophecy?"

He chuckled. "Too much. That's why I live down here instead of up there with the corpse-wearing nobles."

I lowered my sword slowly.

"You think it can be broken?" I asked.

He tilted his head.

"That depends. Are you the villain?"

I didn't answer.

He smiled. "Good. The real villains always lie. The fake ones? They hesitate."

I showed him the system message.

His expression darkened.

"So it's active again... The Fatebind."

"You know about the system?"

He nodded once. "It's not a system. Not really. It's a prison built by gods too lazy to fight their own wars. They bound the souls of every 'sovereign' and every 'hero' into a loop. To fight. Die. Rise. Repeat."

A cold chill ran down my spine.

"You mean this has happened before?"

He nodded. "Hundreds of times. Thousands, maybe. Different bodies. Same story."

"But... me and Elion — we're different. We weren't from this world."

Haleth's eyes lit up at that.

"No. You weren't." He leaned in. "Which is why you're dangerous."

I stiffened.

"If you weren't born into the cycle — but were dragged into it — then your soul is unchained. You're not bound by the Fatebind... not completely."

I clenched my fists.

"Then how do I break it?"

He leaned closer, whispering.

"Find the Shardwatcher."

The name hit like a lightning bolt.

"Who?"

"The one who watches the loops. The one who feeds off the cycle. He's buried in the oldest realm. Sealed after the first war. They say he sleeps… but I think he's waking up."

"And you think I can reach him?"

"I think you'll have no choice," Haleth said. "Because if you don't, this world dies with you."

My mind was racing.

If the Fatebind was a cycle — and me and Elion weren't bound like the others — then maybe I could do more than survive it.

Maybe I could destroy it completely.

And free him.

Even if it meant becoming something worse than the villain the world feared.

Selira returned, boots echoing in the hallway.

"Time's up," she said. "The Watchers have summoned you. The war council's gathering. They want your orders."

I gave Haleth one last look.

He was already fading into the shadows.

One last whisper followed me as I turned away.

"Be careful who you trust, Crimson One. Even stars can fall."

As I emerged from the archives, the air outside felt heavier.

The storm was coming.

And my brother was at the center of it.

I just hoped he'd remember who I really was... before I had to kill the prophecy we were trapped in.