DKFTI 143

Beep. Beep-beep. Beep-beep-beep.

An ear-piercing mechanical sound, and a familiar yet dry scent of fabric softener wafting through the air.

“…Mm-hmm.”

Sibel struggled to lift his heavy eyelids.

The first thing that came into view was the old white wallpaper and fluorescent lights, bathed in the morning sunlight. It was not the vast, cold ceiling of the Demon King’s castle. There were no fancy chandeliers, nor the mysterious sky visible through the window.

“Huh…?”

Sibel sat up, feeling dazed.

The creaking single bed, the desk in a corner of the narrow room with objects scattered haphazardly on it, and the small wardrobe occupying one wall. Everything felt familiar.

Sibel looked down at his hands. He gazed at his white, slender hands and repeatedly clenched and unclenched them.

The sensation of blood rushing to his fingertips was real, yet Sibel could not understand the situation.

“Is this a dream?”

That was the first hypothesis that crossed his mind amidst his hazy consciousness.

This moment might be a dream. A dream of returning to the very world before he became Sibel. But… is something this vivid really a dream? Why did he suddenly return to this time?

What if, by any chance, the opposite were true?

Those long, long years in Valheim, the war, the chaotic daily life in the castle, and… Aizen… What if all of that was actually a dream?

The thought sent shivers down his spine.

Sibyl staggered out of bed and stood before the full-length mirror next to his desk.

In the mirror he saw an ordinary black-haired man with wide eyes and with messy antenna like hair, instead of the beautiful Demon King with silver hair.

His past life. No, perhaps, his original form.

“This is impossible…”

A hollow gasp escaped from between Sibel’s lips.

Why?

As Suho stared at the mirror, a scene flashed through his mind.

The unidentified sphere that Ruru had stolen from Karhan’s castle. He had been fiddling with it when a blue light flashed and it sucked his magical power in at a terrifying speed, the sensation was still vivid.

“Could it be… because of that?”

Something was wrong. Sibel, or rather Suho, reached out and traced his reflection in the mirror.

***

How much time had passed?

By the time the ticking of the wall clock sounded unusually loud, Sibel had to admit that this was not just a dream.

For now, he had to move.

Although he couldn’t distinguish between reality and a dream, tearing his hair out here wouldn’t yield any answers.

He thought that if he continued with the daily routine of ‘Suho,’ he might discover a different clue. It wasn’t a difficult task. As soon as he finished thinking, Suho put on the coat hanging on the hanger.

The moment he stepped out of the apartment building, the warm and humid morning air hit him.

He wanted to take a walk around the neighborhood first. From the asphalt pavement he had considered sick and tired of until he went to the Demon King’s castle, to the old dry cleaner he passed every morning on his way to school, and even the small convenience store tucked away on the corner.

He thought he had forgotten them completely, but that wasn’t the case. Life at the castle had been so intense and colorful that he had assumed these memories of his past life, which resembled black-and-white photographs, had faded.

From the slightly cracked paving stone in front of the dry cleaner to the faded color of the parasol in front of the convenience store, everything came back as vividly as if it were yesterday. Everything felt natural and lifelike.

Suho’s footsteps stopped in front of the convenience store. The reflection in the glass door looked unfamiliar. He walked into the convenience store.

A cheerful jingle rang out, and he felt the cold air from the air conditioner.

“Welcome.”

Leaving the part-timer’s mechanical greeting behind, Suho approached the refrigerated section.

Kimbap, and banana milk.

The taste of home. No matter how delicious the special stew Aizen cooked for him, he did miss the taste of that cheap instant food.

Suho picked up a tuna mayo triangle kimbap and a banana milk and headed to the checkout counter.

He took a bill out of his wallet, paid, and left the convenience store. His hand trembled as he unwrapped the packaging.

The salty scent of the seaweed stung his nose. He took a big bite of the kimbap.

The familiar savory richness of the mayonnaise and the saltiness of the tuna lingered on the tip of his tongue. As he inserted a straw into the banana milk and took a sip, the sweetness he had longed for flowed down his throat.

“Wow, this is delicious.”

It was delicious. It was definitely so delicious, and a taste he had missed so much.

“…….”

His steps came to a sudden halt.

He was chewing rice grains, but they gritted as if they were sand. His throat felt like it was clogging up.

He started to feel more and more anxious.

The kimbap he was holding in his hand fell to the floor.

“Ah….”

Suddenly, his vision blurred.

Before he could even try to hold it back, thick teardrops streamed down his cheeks.

Suddenly, this reality felt sorrowful.

As if all the colors of the world had evaporated, emptiness pierced through his heart.

‘Pudding…Ruru, Shanti, Inky, and Raccoon…’

The faces of the noisy and warm family members of the Demon King’s castle came to mind one by one.

‘Aizen…’

After muttering that name to himself, Suho crouched down and covered his face with his hands. He felt a terrible loss he hadn’t ever felt before. He worried: what if he couldn’t go back?

“Ngh…”

A suppressed whimper burst from Suho’s lips.

He paid no heed to the students passing through the school gate glancing at him.

Caw–Caw–!

A crow cawed and flew over his head.

***

“…So.”

There was not a shred of warmth in his low voice.

What greeted Aizen upon his return was unbelievable. The room where Sibel should have been rolling around was filled with wailing.

Although he suppressed his emotions with superhuman patience, Aizen was currently burning up. He had passed the point of anger and was excessively calm. That quietude, however, was more terrifying than his anger.

“He touched that sphere or whatever it was, and disappeared along with the light.”

“Yes, yes…”

Ruru lay flat on the floor, trembling. Every time Aizen’s empty gaze fell upon him, the hairs on his body stood on end and his legs trembled. Of course, it wasn’t Ruru’s fault, but he felt as if a knife were hanging over his throat.

“The-the Demon King’s magic… I-I can’t feel it anywhere… I searched every nook and cranny of Valheim, but there isn’t even a trace, hng…”

“Then…”

Aizen cut Ruru off in a low voice. It was a voice so devoid of emotion it sent chills down one’s spine.

“Are you saying he died or something?”

“Hic!”

Ruru hiccupped.

Crack. A sound like bone being crushed erupted from Aizen’s fist. At that gruesome sound, the tears that Shanti and Ruru had been holding back finally spilled.

“Waaah! Demon King! I was wrong! I shouldn’t have stolen it! Waaah!”

“Hic! If only I hadn’t nagged him to clean!”

Ruru clutched his tail and pounded the floor as he cried, while Shanti buried his face in his white apron and sobbed. Their desperate wailing echoed through the room, but Aizen’s expression remained as hard as a stone.

“Hey! Stop crying and think!”

At that moment, Raccoon, unable to bear it any longer, shouted.

“The Demon King wouldn’t die because of a mere toy!”

“But the magic power… the Demon King’s magic power… it all vanished, as if it never existed at all…!”

Whether demons or humans, those who possessed energy and magic were bound to leave traces. However, vanishing so completely was not a typical occurrence. It was a blank space, as if the very existence of Sibel had been vigorously rubbed away with an eraser on the canvas of this world.

Amidst the deafening noise, Aizen stared into the void.

A space that was ordinary and familiar, yet where Sibel’s warmth, Sibel’s scent, and Sibel’s voice had all vanished.

The mere absence of that one presence evoked an alien sensation, making this place feel like a completely different space.

Aizen slowly closed his eyes and took deep, slow breaths.

Sibel was instantly drawn in his black vision. He vanished when he opened his eyes, and reappeared when he closed them. This was an absurd situation.

“Sibel.”

Aizen did not want to consider the possibility of Sibel’s existence disappearing from this world. He had to find him immediately. He resolved to extract a promise, without fail, that he would never again inflict this kind of torture to his heart.

So, first, he had to find him.

No matter what.