The monk sat beside Samye on the cold stone steps of the temple.

  Neither spoke for a while.

  The night was calm. Too calm.

  Finally, the monk broke the silence.

  “So… you saw him, didn’t you?”

  Samye’s breath caught.

  “…Saw who?” he asked, though his voice lacked conviction.

  The monk didn’t look at him.

  “I’m asking about the one from your dream,” he said calmly.

  Samye froze.

  Shock rippled through him like ice water.

  “How…” His throat tightened. “How do you know?”

  The monk turned his head slightly, studying Samye’s face.

  “It’s common,” he said. “Those who come here without answers often bring something with them.”

  He gestured gently to the stone beside him.

  “Sit. Tell me how far you saw.”

  Samye hesitated, then spoke quietly.

  “He was… walking toward me. Slowly. Smiling. An evil smile.”

  His hands clenched.

  “And with every step he took… my memories felt like they were fading. Like something was being pulled away from me.”

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  The monk’s eyes sharpened.

  “That means the process has already accelerated,” he said.

  Samye looked at him sharply. “Process?”

  The monk nodded.

  “Something must have happened recently,” he continued. “Something that forced your will to awaken faster than it should have.”

  Samye thought of the arena.

  The frozen time.

  Astral’s helpless eyes.

  The monk watched his expression change.

  Then he asked softly:

  “What do you want?”

  Samye answered immediately, without thinking.

  “…Peace.”

  The monk smiled faintly.

  Then he asked again — this time more firmly.

  “No. Tell me honestly.”

  He turned fully toward Samye.

  “What do you really want?”

  Samye’s face faltered.

  The smile faded.

  Silence stretched between them.

  “I…” Samye swallowed. “I don’t know.”

  His voice cracked.

  “I just don’t want to lose anyone again.”

  The monk closed his eyes briefly.

  He already knew.

  “Listen carefully, child,” the monk said.

  “Something in your past forced your will to awaken as power. A desire strong enough to bend reality itself.”

  Samye felt his chest tighten.

  “But now,” the monk continued, “you are walking a different path. Or perhaps… you haven’t chosen one yet.”

  He looked directly into Samye’s eyes.

  “That original desire didn’t disappear.”

  Samye’s breath slowed.

  “It took shape.”

  A chill crawled up his spine.

  “The man you saw walking toward you,” the monk said calmly, “is none other than you.”

  Samye’s blood ran cold.

  “He is the version of you born from that original desire. The one who existed only to survive. To protect. To destroy anything that stood in the way.”

  Samye remembered the smile.

  The certainty.

  The lack of hesitation.

  The monk continued:

  “Now that you hesitate… now that you seek peace… he reminds you that he still exists.”

  Samye whispered, “…That’s why my memories are fading?”

  “Yes,” the monk replied. “He is taking control slowly. Not out of hatred — but because you are rejecting him.”

  Samye’s hands trembled.

  “If this continues,” the monk said quietly, “you will be erased.”

  “Not killed.”

  “Replaced.”

  Silence swallowed the steps.

  Samye stared at the ground, heart pounding.

  It made sense.

  Every instinct screamed that it was true.

  “So…” Samye asked hoarsely, “what do I do?”

  The monk stood slowly.

  “You must accept him,” he said.

  “Not as an enemy.”

  “Not as a curse.”

  “But as a part of yourself.”

  He placed a hand over Samye’s chest.

  “Or both of you will be lost.”

  The wind passed through the temple.

  Samye looked up slowly.

  Fear still lived in his eyes—

  but beneath it, something else was forming.

  Resolve.