She sat on the corpse of the fallen fiend, her breathing steady but heavy.
Her slender fingers, still gripping the bloodied sword, rested idly on her lap.
The battle was over.
But she wasn't relaxed.
Not yet.
Her piercing gaze swept over the battlefield
And then—
It settled directly on him.
Hope felt a cold chill crawl up his spine.
Damnation.
She had seen him.
Hope's heartbeat quickened as her sharp eyes studied him, taking in the black cloak draped over his form.
A second ago, she had been focused on slaying the fiend—
But now?
Now, he was the one under her scrutiny.
He could tell.
She had noticed him earlier, probably caught a glimpse of his silhouette during the fight.
But since he hadn't attacked, she had chosen to ignore him.
Instead, she had dealt with the bigger threat first.
But now that the fight was over—
He was the only unknown factor left standing.
Her fingers twitched slightly, adjusting her grip on the hilt of her sword.
Hope's instincts screamed at him.
If she decided to kill him right now—
although they had meet back at the cafeteria, that didn't assure he's safety people changed as soon as they are left alone. There would be no one to stop her.
And no one would know.
The Waking World was far away.
There was no law here.
No rules.
Only the Veil's silent indifference.
Hope felt his muscles tense, cold sweat forming on his back.
How was he supposed to introduce himself in this situation?
Anything he said could be taken the wrong way.
Anything he did could be seen as a threat.
But staying silent?
That was just asking to be killed.
Damn.
Hope took a deep breath, forcing himself to move.
He raised a hand.
A slow, cautious wave.
Then, carefully, he stepped forward.
One foot in front of the other, making sure his movements were measured—
Non-threatening.
At 100 meters away, he stopped.
Then, after a brief hesitation—
He waved again.
"Hi."
His voice came out rough.
Hoarse.
His throat was parched from walking under the merciless sun.
But he pushed forward.
"I don't know if you remember me," he said, his voice steady despite the situation.
"But we met before. Back at the cafeteria, in the Academy."
Hope paused, choosing his next words carefully.
"My name is Hopeless."
The girl didn't react immediately.
She just stared at him.
Silent.
Expression unreadable.
Her white tunic, now stained with dark ichor, fluttered slightly in the wind.
Hope felt his chest tighten.
Was she trying to remember?
Or was she deciding whether to kill him?
Then, finally, she spoke.
"If we met before," she said, her voice calm but carrying an unmistakable edge—
"Then you must know my name."
She tilted her head slightly, watching him closely.
"So?"
"What is it?"
He couldn't blame her for her scrutiny, because this was the soulrealm.... Anyone would be on guard.
Hope's mind raced.
Damnation.
He had forgotten.
His mind scrambled, ransacking his memory for any possible name.
But nothing came.
Nothing.
All he could do was guess.
But if he guessed wrong—
Would she see through the lie?