Benjamin walked through the hallway, the faint creak of the wooden floor echoing under his careful stride. His thin lips curved faintly, a knowing smirk born from the intrigue of recent events.

  Poisoning himself with the blue vial had been no small risk, but it was a calculated move. A gamble worth taking. After all, how else could he bait "her" out? The poison was the perfect lure, sweet and tantalizing enough to make even the most cautious prey bold enough to bite.

  Ten years within the Order’s service. Three years spent nurturing the seed under their watch. All of it, the lies, the plottings, the sacrifices, they had been nothing but preparation for this single moment.

  “Interesting. It seems her prediction is wrong.”

  From the folds of his robe, he drew forth the leather-bound diary, worn at the corners. He opened its cover gently, revealing the yellow-tinged pages within.

  The entire diary was blank. Its pages were unmarked by any ink or scrawl. Not a single line on it. There was no mention of "Isidora", as well as no entry of "command aptitude".

  Benjamin’s smile deepened, an indulgent gleam passing through his eyes. He uncapped his pen and pressed it to the page.

  “The performance now officially starts.”

  The character was written neatly on the paper. It remained there for some time before it faded slowly away until the page lay blank once more.

  He studied it for a heartbeat, then closed the diary and tucked it back into his chest pocket.

  “Haha… now, my daring one, let us give them a little surprise, shall we?” he whispered as a tremor of anticipation seeped into his tone.

  His breath quickened, his robe swaying around his withered frame. With the final pieces of his long-laid plan now aligning perfectly in place, there was no need for hesitation.

  Just one more step, one final act, and the harvest of years would ripen at last.

  “Let’s commence the show, our first and final prelude on this grand stage.”

  The glow of his crimson eyes shone brighter beneath the dimly lit corridor. They gleamed like embers, alight with hysterical fever, as he strode toward his end vision.

  —

  In the cold attic, Benjamin sat slumped in the chair across from Isidora's portrait. The chill was merciless, seeping into every crevice, sparing no one, not even the old man before her. It coiled deep into his fragile form, gnawing at his bones.

  He looked like a husk of himself. His once bright and devoted eyes now appeared dim and lifeless. His skin sagged loosely against the sharpness of his bones, and his crown of hair, once streaked gray, was now wholly surrendered to white. If not for the faint rise and fall of his chest, anyone would think he was already a corpse.

  This put her in a strange spot. To Izzy, the sight was utterly absurd. She had anticipated some dramatic schemes from her supposed captor. And yet… This pathetic act? Is this what he came up with?

  Only a few days had gone by, and now he was trying to convince her that he was dying of old age?

  ‘What is this? Am I supposed to be a child?’

  Well, technically, she was. Isa, her young mind, was certainly one, and given the circumstances, the poor naive girl would probably have fallen for this pity play.

  But her mature self? No. She had lived through years of exploitation and manipulation. His antics did not impress her.

  “Isidora, dear, I may have failed… Yet I still prevail…”

  ‘That poison is so prominent?’

  Izzy exclaimed dryly. She wasn’t aware of the exact ingredients of the poison he’d consumed, but whatever it was, it seemed particularly true to its purpose of weakening its victim.

  It was almost a shame that the effect wasn’t permanent. Maybe, when she finally escaped this prison, she’d consider finding another dose for herself, or stealing some.

  “Isidora, Do you remember this doll? This is your precious doll…”

  Benjamin called again, which Izzy couldn’t help but cringe inwardly at. His syrupy tone set her teeth on edge.

  ‘Wow, how can he say things like that with a straight face?’ she thought with a mixture of exasperation and secondhand embarrassment.

  In his lap sat the porcelain doll. Of course, she had seen that doll before; it was the one from the basement. She recalled it lying delicately atop the mutilated girl's corpse.

  The first time she noticed it, the dim basement had prevented her from fully studying its features. But now, under the attic’s light, the doll’s appearance had fully struck her.

  ‘Wait… it looks… identical to the painted Isidora!’

  The porcelain doll mirrored her painted form to perfection.

  Its gray skin gleamed under the faint light. Long gray hair cascaded down its narrow shoulders, and its unsettling blue eyes glimmered like navy pools of reflection. Even the ashen dress it wore seemed to replicate the style of her painted counterpart.

  If she hadn’t known better, she might have seriously believed that Benjamin had somehow dragged her painted body out of the canvas and brought it to life.

  The strangest part, however, was the faint feeling the doll gave her. Something about it felt… familiar, as though its presence was tied to her. She didn’t know what to make of this sensation.

  "I still remember your bright smile… when you received this doll."

  The old man’s words were drenched in sentimentality, but for Izzy, they were like nails running down a chalkboard, making her skin crawl.

  She jolted slightly within her mind, instinctively suppressing her growing irritation. She had to stop her painted version from reacting, forcing it to remain still.

  ‘Ahhh! Dammit, I really want to kill him!’ She screamed internally.

  ‘Grampa…’

  Isa’s soft yet conflicted voice echoed in her thoughts, making Izzy freeze momentarily.

  The young mind hadn’t said much at all until now. What was going through her mind? She quickly shook it off; the old lunatic still demanded her attention.

  "Your beautiful smile… so I maintained it for you."

  His withered hand brushed gently over the porcelain doll’s hair, his fingertips stroking the doll’s pale hair with unbearable slowness.

  ‘Hey, where are you touching?!’

  Izzy’s thoughts flared, her indignation simmering as she watched his hand move inappropriately close along the doll's features.

  His lips curved upward, the faint ghost of nostalgia tugging at his features.

  To anyone else, he might have seemed like a grieving father clinging to memory. But to Izzy, every line of his face twisted into the picture of madness, a perverted lunatic gazing at her likeness with a hunger that was wrong, so very wrong.

  Before her disgust could boil over, a violent cough tore through him.

  “Cough… cough!”

  Benjamin hunched over, his shoulders trembling under his fur coat as another wave of bitter cold seeped into the room.

  Watching this, Izzy suddenly felt a pang of worry. For a split second, she felt the urge to help him. She wanted to rip free of her confines in the painting and wanted to support him.

  But just as quickly, another surge of emotion replaced it. A white-hot flash of irritation and anger burned into her mind. She wanted to reach out to tear him apart with her own hands.

  “Isidora… I want to hear your voice… again…”

  His voice soaked in weakness. Distress mingled with fury, swirling into a maelstrom of unchecked emotions. The two emotions collided, tearing at her nerves all at once.

  She knew it was an act. Yet her mind trembled, caught between pity and rage. What if he actually died?

  She didn’t want him to die, not like this. Not this peacefully! He deserved far worse than death!

  His trembling hand rose. For a fleeting moment, his eyes gleamed red, a flash of that terrible light, before it faded away.

  “Just… one last time…”

  His body had grown too weary to hold him upright any longer, let alone drive any further movement. His hand hung suspended in the air before collapsing weakly at his side.

  Isa’s emotions bled into Izzy’s thoughts like floodwater, making their thoughts jump back and forth frantically. She couldn’t separate them anymore. The worry, the anger, the pity, and the revulsion were all tangled into one unbearable knot.

  “Isidora… I…”

  Benjamin’s breath faltered, his chest heaving faintly as his strength ebbed away.

  His eyelids began to fall. The stillness in his body gave the impression that he was moments from succumbing entirely.

  At that instant, Isa’s overwhelmed emotions slipped past Izzy’s control.

  “G…grampa…”

  Isa spoke up. With a soft sound whispers in both of their ears.

  It wasn’t part of the plan. It wasn’t something anyone had anticipated, least of all Izzy. For a moment, her thoughts froze, her mind stunned by the sound of that voice.

  Stolen story; please report.

  ‘This… was my voice? I can talk?’

  She could talk this whole time? Izzy hadn’t even known this was possible, trapped in this ethereal existence. It had never even crossed her mind that she could speak.

  If she could talk all along, why hadn’t she known? Had Isa deliberately kept it from her?

  A softer thought replaced her paranoia.

  ‘Wait, it’s not that she hid it. She just… never said anything because no one asked her. Isa just didn’t think of it.’

  However, there was a cost. She realized it drained their energy when they talked. Was this the price to interfere with the physical world while their body remained in its ethereal state?

  “Ah… ahh… I, I knew it, Heaven,” Benjamin’s voice shook with trembling joy, his lips quivering.

  “I did not fail… bless the Monarch…”

  Benjamin’s desperate voice brought her back from reality. At the same time, the outburst within Izzy became more prominent; her rage surged like a tidal wave, so much that she could not hold herself back any longer.

  This was her first time experiencing this extreme rage and infuriation in her thoughts. She desperately endured it, waiting for the right moment to strike. The overwhelming warmth and affection in Isa’s thoughts manage to calm down her rage, but only to a certain extent, before the dam of emotion broke free.

  Not only was she completely unguarded against this spiral of emotion, but Isa also could not hold herself back.

  The young mind, so full of compassion, was unable to stop herself. Isa’s voice and emotions extended outward, reaching for Benjamin like a child clinging to a lost parent once again.

  “G…Grampa!”

  Benjamin’s eyes widened, his lips slowly parted, trembling with joy.

  Izzy could feel it; her young mind was desperately trying to reach out toward him, toward that lunatic of a man.

  Toward the doll clutched in his grasp.

  ‘No… I–Isa!’

  ‘L…let me go!’

  Isa’s overwhelming love started to pour out like a violent stream; it pushed their thoughts further into chaos. She clawed and screamed, trying to take control over their shared being, trying to push past Izzy and escape the confines of the canvas.

  Izzy’s mind twisted and churned in agony. Something was extremely wrong with them! She tried to hold her young mind back. Her head felt like it was cracking apart as anger, hate, sorrow, and misplaced affection spiraled into an uncontrollable maelstrom.

  These two forces clashed inside their shared mind, love and hate, fury and tenderness, writhing in a chaos that left them dizzy, unable to think things clearly. Their inner fight grew more unmanageable with every passing second. The effort to keep herself restrained, to keep Isa’s emotional outpouring reined in, was completely failing.

  At one point, the fragile control Izzy had over herself and Isa completely disintegrated. She was losing herself. If she didn’t do something, she feared the mature mind, herself, might shatter under this overwhelming affection completely.

  The thought of herself disappearing was not a problem to her, but… Isa…

  For a fleeting moment in that chaos, something flickered, a fragmented memory. It was a radiant smile, a cheerful laughter, laughter echoing in sunlight. Their silhouette paralleled momentarily.

  ‘Don’t you dare take her away from me once again!’

  Driven by that final thought, Izzy made her choice. If she couldn’t suppress this, then she would rather let it go all out!

  The screams of children. The madness of playing house for a deranged man. The feeling of utter helplessness crystallized in her soul. Before Isa could fully consume her mind, Izzy let go of the floodgates of her fury, which she had endured.

  “JUST DIE ALREADY, FOR GOD’S SAKEE!”

  She invested much of her energy into her voice, amplifying it to the extreme.

  At the same time, the force of her outburst unlocked something primal within her, and memories reeled back violently. Every ounce of inferno she had buried tore its way to the surface as Benjamin’s silhouette blurred, paralleled with another face, another figure.

  ‘I will kill him! I will rip his heart apart! I will chase him down to earth, chase him down to hell! I will destroy his entire family! Kill all of his friends! Drink his blood until there is nothing left!’

  Her voice roared like a thunderclap. It pulsed outward, creating a small but violent gust that swept across the attic, scattering loose objects and knocking books, bottles, and trinkets into chaotic ruin.

  Benjamin’s eyes widened. The sound, amplified so close to his head, slammed into Benjamin’s skull, tearing his eardrums as blood streamed down from both of his ears.

  His body convulsed as though struck by lightning. The poison already gnawed at his heart, and now the violent shock crushed what remained.

  His heart stuttered, and the hand that was half-raised toward the portrait dropped limp. His head tilted, with eyes still staring forward in disbelief.

  He died of a heart attack.

  —

  ‘What?’

  ‘Huh?’

  As Benjamin’s body slumped lifelessly in the chair, both of Isidora’s minds snapped back to their senses. The storm of fury and affection that had consumed them mere moments ago vanished as if it had never existed.

  Awakened from this strange trance, Izzy was momentarily dazed before she swiftly reclaimed control. Her mind spun, its cogwheels spinning at an incredible speed, analyzing the situation clearly.

  ‘That… is not like my usual self. What did I just do?!’

  ‘Y…Yes?!’

  Izzy couldn’t understand it herself. She had just screamed out loud recklessly.

  But why? She had all the time in the world to kill him swiftly and efficiently. Why didn't she think about it?

  The entire situation was bizarre. Far too bizarre!

  And yet… despite seeing him slump like a puppet with its strings cut, Izzy’s heart pounded in her chest. Her instincts screamed at her.

  Normally, when a life ended near her, she could feel their usual feedback, the release of green mist energy. However, this time, there was none!

  Something wasn’t right!

  ‘Not good!’

  ‘Ah? Yes, not good!!’

  The old man’s body still sagged in the chair, his skin pale as a corpse. But somehow, she felt uneasy, a crawling tension prickling over her awareness.

  Izzy didn’t hesitate. There was no time to second-guess. She snapped a command to Isa, their minds aligning once more.

  Listening to her mature self, Isa summoned the kitchen knife and hovered directly above the old man’s chest, its blade pointed downward, gleaming in the dim attic light.

  Just as the knife reached the perfect height, the old man’s finger twitched. His hand shot upward, slamming against his chest as he jolted his own failing heart back into rhythm.

  *Thud*

  His body spasmed slightly, twitching as if shocked by an electric current.

  ‘He’s still alive!’

  Izzy didn’t let hesitation poison her action. Before he had the chance to fully recover, she launched the knife immediately.

  *Thwack*

  “Gah!”

  The blade pierced cleanly into Benjamin’s chest, the point plunging deep past his ribcage. Blood sprayed across his withered robe.

  Pain radiated through his frame. His bulging eyes shot open, bloodshot with both agony and rage as a cry tore from his throat.

  Before Benjamin could perform any of his unpredictable tricks, Izzy acted swiftly. Using the yarn ball under her control, she rolled it silently around the base of his chair, weaving its thread tightly but subtly around his legs.

  Benjamin groaned through gritted teeth, his trembling hand instinctively gripping his cane for support while the other clung fiercely to the porcelain doll’s fragile head. He then raised his head, locked directly onto her painted figure in the portrait, and his pupils bled crimson.

  At that moment, Izzy froze.

  She felt an inexplicable wave of hesitation crash over her. Concern bubbled within her—a soft, nagging whisper.

  Hesitation surged like a foreign tide, drowning her resolve. A pang of concern struck her chest, so deep it left her reeling. Stop? Should she stop?

  Maybe… she should stop this? Look at him: so weak, an old, frail man. Did he really deserve all of this?

  ‘What is going on?!’

  The thought slithered into her mind, wrapping around her reason like an unwanted embrace.

  Simultaneously, another stronger emotion swelled alongside it. It was a raw and hot anger that surged forth to burn away the doubt. A deep, fiery hatred that filled her veins and set her thoughts ablaze.

  She wanted to rip him apart, gouge out those glowing eyes, and smear his madness into dust.

  Their shared mind became more erratic; she tried to focus, to no avail. Her control frayed. Izzy’s mind buckled beneath the clash of love, pity, and hatred.

  Benjamin flailed his arms and threw the porcelain doll onto the floor without care or concern. With a guttural growl, he lunged toward the painting, his hands clawing forward.

  Yet, the old man’s momentum came to an abrupt halt as his feet caught on the tangled yarn thread. The frail body toppled gracelessly, falling hard to the wooden floor as his cane clattered away with a thud echoing through the attic.

  The sudden disruption snapped them back to their senses.

  ‘Uh…huh?’

  Benjamin gasped beneath the weight of his collapse, struggling to rise. With significant effort, he craned his head upward, his crimson eyes still flaring dangerously despite his weakened state.

  She understood immediately; he was using another weird power of his!

  Dammit, so they had been tricked from the very beginning!

  Worse still, Isa had already faltered. The young mind, after being exposed to the deep feeling of pity and affection, had shown a sigh of hesitation, her will dissolving into uncertainty.

  It wasn’t surprising. Unlike Izzy, who had been hardened by the cruelty and brutality of her previous life, Isa was still young and emotionally unstable. Technically, she was still a child, despite being an extension of her mature self.

  She could no longer rely on Isa. If Benjamin were to die here, then it would have to be her hand that ended it!

  Thankfully, her plans were already in motion.

  ‘Do something, Isa! Stall for time!’

  Without thinking, Isa relinquished her Psychokinesis control and set her own thoughts to work. For a brief moment, uncertainty clouded her young mind, but then, a mischievous idea flickered in her young mind, one so absurd it actually made sense.

  ‘Are you serious?’

  Izzy groaned internally, reading Isa’s thoughts. If she had a physical body, she would’ve facepalmed at the ridiculous yet strangely effective plan Isa had conjured.

  Still, there was no time to debate. Izzy used her Psychokinesis and quickly took control of the hidden hammer stashed among the attic’s collar ties, lifting it silently.

  Meanwhile, Isa turned her attention to the painted Isidora trapped in the canvas. With focus, Isa took control of her painted self, causing the figure in the portrait to move ever so slightly.

  All of this coordination, planning, and execution only happened within a second or two. After all, Isidora’s split minds allowed her thought processes to accelerate far beyond what a singular mind could accomplish.

  Under Isa’s direction, the painted Isidora tilted her head slightly, her navy eyes locking onto Benjamin’s with an expression of unfettered disgust and raw contempt.

  The young mind’s reasoning was quite simple and, to be frank, brilliant.

  What if the “daughter” Benjamin had so desperately tried to nurture, to love, to control looked at him with disgust? How would he react to that? Even the irritated Izzy couldn’t help but feel a twinge of curiosity herself.

  The effect was immediate.

  Benjamin froze mid-struggle. His crimson eyes widened in shock as he stared at the portrait. His mouth parted slightly, as if he wanted to speak something, but he seemed momentarily dumbfounded.

  ‘Surprise!’ Isa’s voice chimed gleefully in their shared mind.

  That heartbeat of hesitation was all Izzy needed.

  Not wanting to waste any more time, Izzy propelled the hammer downward at full force, its descent powered by both gravity and her Psychokinesis.

  Benjamin’s head snapped upward just in time to see the blur descending. Horror carved itself into his expression.

  “W…Wait, Isi—” he gasped, his voice cut off mid-sentence as the hammer struck.

  The hammer struck with a thunderous crack, the wet, meaty sound echoing through the attic.

  The tool plummeted with merciless speed, colliding with his skull with a wet, meaty sound echoing through the attic. His body jerked violently, then collapsed to the floor in a twitching sprawl before falling still.

  ‘Hiii!’

  Lying on the floor, all that remained of the lunatic was his lifeless shell. Isa squeaked, both horrified and surprised at such a scene.

  At that same moment, the familiar green mist seeped from Benjamin’s corpse, streaming toward the portrait.

  They absorbed his green mist energy, flooding their shared mind until exhaustion crashed over them like a tide.

  Darkness swallowed them without warning, as Isidora slipped into slumber.