"But I thought you had to listen to me," I said, feeling my head spin slightly. "I told you not to kill anyone."
One of the soldiers shrugged casually. "We can't go against your direct orders... but he could. He wasn't around when you gave the command, and he's your partner. That means your authority was lower over him."
"Lower?" I repeated, baffled.
"Yeah," he said. "He originally wanted to slice the guy to pieces, but some kind of warning flashed over his head. So he just, y'know... beheaded him instead."
My brain short-circuited. "What the hell?! Slice? What does that even mean? What example was he trying to set?!"
Akansha- the girl who called her dumb in the beginning of scenario and got killed by system in her imagination- just chuckled. "Don't worry about it. It probably wasn't out of loyalty to you as queen. He said if anyone touched his '80% power,' they'd regret it."
"What kind of damn cliché is that? And when did I become queen? Wasn't I princess?"
"Who knows? Anyway, lie down. The healer needs to check your wounds. I'll call him."
"Him?"
"Anik."
"But for what?"
She smiled knowingly. "Feels like the right thing to do."
"Huh?..." I muttered.
Soon enough, the girl—Akansha returned with Anik in tow. I watched them curiously. How had she managed to persuade him?
Before I could ask, the healer lady's voice startled me.
"You must have overused a power other than mana transfer," she said calmly. "The sword the enemy healer used was poisoned. And now..." She hesitated. "Your soul feels... conflicted. I can't tell whether to treat you with demonic or angelic herbs. Using the wrong one could make things worse. What would you have me do?"
Anik's eyebrows twitched visibly.
I didn't know when exactly he had arrived, but of course he'd react like that. Anyone would. As far as everyone else was concerned, I had only used mana transfer. Nothing demonic.
But deep down, I knew.
The Imagination ability I'd triggered during that nightmare scenario—it must have had lingering effects. Even if it was just a premonition... my body hurt. My ribs, my shoulder—they weren't injuries from reality, but the pain remained.
Did premonitions leave physical scars now?
Meanwhile, Anik was frowning hard.
The healer shouldn't be able to sense anything demonic... What went wrong?
"Haha, aunty, you must be kidding," Anik said suddenly, a bit too forcefully. "She's harmless. She can't even think straight, let alone plot evil. She got stabbed protecting others and didn't regret it for a second. You must have misread something."
"I tried to avoid mentioning it," the healer admitted, "but I double-checked. The results are consistent."
Anik clicked his tongue, annoyed.
"Everyone, out," he said sharply. He glanced meaningfully at me while adding, "You too, kid."
The strange kid who'd been lurking behind Anik reluctantly followed Akansha out.
"Hey—wait, what's your name?" He called after her.
"Akansha," she answered without turning back. Of course he asked her just now after all this.
As soon as the door closed, Anik looked straight at me.
"You," he said. "What are your skills and attributes?"
I blinked. I knew what he meant, but... something felt off.
"Those are supposed to be two different things?"
"..."
"Sir," I said dramatically, "I humbly request that you show yours first before asking mine."
Without a word, he opened his system window and projected it toward me.
Skills:
Battleship
Close Combat
Poison
Anatomy
Speed
"Hey, I have 'Close Combat' too!" I said brightly. "We should spar later!"
Before I could study the window further, he dismissed it.
"Hey! I wasn't finished!" I protested.
He sighed and reopened it.
'Poison' caught my eye. I made a mental note to ask about that later. For now, I needed to focus rather he dismiss the window before I even process it.
"My turn?" I asked.
He nodded.
"Uh... how do I open it?"
"Just think about it."
"Oh."
The moment he said 'think,' something... snapped.
Think. Think! THINK!
It felt like a thousand voices whispering inside my skull. My abdomen side wound started burning again. Images from the premonition flashed violently—me, killing. Anik, dying.
No. No no no.
I clutched my head. The darkness inside me surged up like a rising tide. Panic clawed at my chest.
Anik tensed. Something was very wrong.
This scene didn't happen in the original comic, he thought grimly.
Why is she losing control? She shouldn't be able to summon the demon yet...
"Get up, you idiot," a voice echoed in the darkness.
A hand reached out to me—blurry, glowing faintly.
I tried to grab it, but it kept slipping away. The darkness grew deeper, colder.
Another try. This time, the hand seized my collar and yanked me upward with brutal force.
I gasped. Air filled my lungs again.
When I opened my eyes, it was still dark—but not suffocating darkness. A softer kind.
"You better explain this," Anik rasped.
His voice was hoarse. I turned toward him, dazed.
"Your voice..." I croaked.
"Don't tell me you don't know what just happened," he snapped.
"I... I don't."
I heard the sound of cloth tearing. The comforting darkness peeled away—a jacket? Anik must have draped it over me to shield my senses.
I blinked hard.
Anik sat slumped against the wall, his neck swollen, sword lying forgotten beside him. His right arm—bloodied. His left hand tried feebly to support it.
"What... what happened?" I whispered. "Did I... did I do this?"
He said nothing.
The silence crushed me.
If I'd really hurt him... what was even the point of coming to this world?
Was I the monster here?
I almost spiraled again until a ridiculous memory saved me—a character from an old drama show. The tragic villain type. Dark powers they couldn't control.
Right. Third person perspective.
"Sit down," I said suddenly, trying to sound composed. "I'll explain."
He obeyed without a word, sinking to the floor.
"But," I added, glancing at his bloody arm, "should I call the healer first?"
"No need. Handle your side first."
"Okay..."
I drew a slow breath. "I think... a skill of mine is going berserk. It's not just mana transfer. It's something else."
"What skill?"
"Imagination."
Anik's expression didn't change, but internally, he was thrown into turmoil.
Imagination?
She didn't have that skill.
The demon's skill was the one protecting her—and attacking when triggered.
But she shouldn't even know about it yet.
In the original timeline, the demon would emerge when she was desperate—save her from death, then vanish again.
She was supposed to be unaware. Powerless.
Yet here she was. Naming a skill she technically didn't even possess.
Something had changed.
Something big.
And Anik wasn't sure if they could ever go back. Nor was he sure if this was a bad thing, given she had died in the original storyline.