Chapter 47. Mist and Memory

“MUAHAHAHAHAHA!”

I barely got to enjoy my villain laugh before Lyra somersaulted into me midair, knees tucked like a missile.

WHAM.

I got planted straight into the cave wall. Was her master Tifa Lockhart or something?! What kind of gremlin practices aerial suplexes on dice?!

“OW! What was that for?! Kevin, bro, HELP!”

“Respect that,” Lyra muttered, brushing her sleeves off. She sat, arms folded, already bored. Kevin coughed, but a smile tugged at his mouth.“Your pride was getting too loud,” he said casually. “Someone had to silence it.” But he was smirking. This fake-ass brother.

“Bro?!”

He raised both hands like he wasn’t involved. Absolute traitor!

“Dad,” Levin asked in disbelief, “did you really become brothers with Dan?”

“Don’t ask, son. It’s embarrassing,” Kevin replied.

I floated in place, dramatically wounded, as Kevin snuffed out the last flames and began cleaning up the remains of our feast with all the calm of a man erasing evidence. Lyra helped him too, scraping bones into a pile and packing up leftovers. Levin lingered for a second, thumb brushing the rune on his hand, afterwards, he too joined the others.

Floating behind them, I sulked and muttered loud enough for everyone to ignore. “Disrespecting this Master, huh? They can clean all they want, but my greatness isn’t so easily wiped away. Tch. Just wait. When this Venerable ascends, I’ll have the last laugh.”

Lyra didn’t even glance back as she cinched her bag. “Let’s go, and shut up Dan.”

***

The trees thinned as we walked, their shadows breaking apart until only a few trunks stood like lonely sentinels. The warmth faded with every step, replaced by a colder breeze. Roots and leaves gave way to broken earth, and when we crossed the treeline the world opened before us. They still called it a forest, but the name felt like a lie.

Ahead stretched a vast crater, so deep the bottom was lost to darkness. The earth had been carved raw, stripped of every trace of life. Not even the mist remained.

“I did this?” Levin’s voice was barely above a whisper, his eyes wide as he took it all in.

Lyra glanced at him, but her expression wasn’t fear or awe; it was something else, a frustration she couldn’t hide. That was the face she wore whenever she felt herself falling behind, the look she got when losing stung more than danger. But the truth was, no matter how we looked at Levin, this was a power he still couldn’t control. Lyra shot me a look, her eyes narrowing as if to cut through every excuse. Her voice landed in my mind, clear and unwavering. “What really happened here?”

I hesitated, drifting closer, wishing I had a better answer. “I’ve told you what I could. The rest… please don’t ask, Lyra. I promised Kevin.” Her gaze lingered on me, silent and searching, before she finally looked away with a small, reluctant nod.

I hovered at her side, still feeling the weight of everything unspoken. “Some things really are better left unsaid,” I offered quietly, hoping she’d understand. But the emptiness pressed in. I glanced around, unsettled by the missing haze.

“But why isn’t the fog here?” I muttered, extending my senses outward, searching for any trace. Nothing, not even the faintest wisp. “Maybe I should try summoning it.”

Kevin glanced over, raising a brow. “What do you mean by summon?”

I ignored him. Too lazy to reply, this bro had just betrayed me, so he was on the temporary block list.

“All right,” I declared, floating dramatically above everyone. “To summon the fog, we must perform... the Rite of Misty Awakening.”

“That’s not a real thing,” Kevin deadpanned.

“Shh. It is now. I’m not talking to you.” Puffing myself up, I grew in size and roared, pulsing mana into the air with the conviction of a fake cult leader. “O Great Steamy Vibe Ghost! Show thyself!”

Silence.

.........

Nothing happened.

I swear I heard a cricket. Kevin looked about one more failed ritual away from punting me into the crater. Damn. This was humiliating. “Okay, Plan B,” I muttered, desperately seeking backup.

“Lyra, scream into the hole,” desperate for someone else to share my shame.

“Absolutely not,” she fired back, arms already folded in that don’t-even-try tone. And then, as if by miracle, Levin of all people suddenly pointed upward. “Look.”

Above us, the sky began to stir as a cloud of mist gathered, spiraling downward in a smooth descent. The fog thickened, flickering between shape and shimmer, hovering between solid and air. From that shifting haze, a figure slowly rose, her outline curving into clarity.

Her shoulders lifted with regal stillness, hair cascading past her waist as her gown rippled in waves of ethereal grace. Color didn’t matter, her beauty radiated through the grayscale mist, luminous enough to draw every gaze.

Lyra blinked twice, caught between disbelief and awe. Levin stood rooted to the spot, his cheeks blooming red in a way only divine beauty could trigger, as if he’d been blindsided and wasn’t sure if he was allowed to look. Even Kevin’s usual calm fractured; his brow creased, maybe his buried youth stirred again? Hard to blame him because, I was the same.

I floated forward without thinking as her hand rose, measured, and her fingers opened with graceful movements. Before I could process it, I was already resting in her palm. She was holding me gently. I was mesmerized by her. I couldn’t look away. My whole life, I had never seen anything like this, and I had certainly never been cradled by something so beautiful.

Her lips curved, and for a heartbeat I thought I had imagined it, until she spoke. Her voice was so real it broke the air between us. “You called?”

For a second, I couldn’t move. That was supposed to be a joke, just a bit of yelling, a little ritual for laughs. Yet somehow the fog had listened, and now it answered in a way I never expected, sending a surge of nerves or maybe awe through my core. Maybe it was her beauty, or the weight she carried. Or maybe it was the fact that she could even touch me… while being mist. Before I could react, something yanked me away.

Lyra.

She snatched me straight out of the fog’s palm, her hands moving faster than thought. “This isn’t yours!” she snapped. “The cube is mine!” Oh, there she goes, my gremlin queen, dragging me back to reality like a truly possessive maniac. Should I thank the heavens, or just pray for the next idiot who tried to lay a hand on me?

After that, the mood shifted in an instant. The whole group tensed. Lyra had just swiped me from the fog’s hand, aggressive and abrupt, but the spirit didn’t strike back. She simply held the moment and then… smiled.

Which somehow made it all feel more dangerous. Mana flared across the clearing as Kevin, Levin, and Lyra readied themselves, prepared to strike. No one said a word, but every breath felt tight. The air was one spark away from chaos.

“It’s alright,” the fog woman said softly, almost amused. “I don’t mean any harm. What do you want?”

With a single flick of her fingers, the mana around us collapsed, especially Kevin’s. His face froze in disbelief, like he couldn’t process that someone at his level had been tamed so easily. It wasn’t even the first time; the fog had already outdone him more than once.

This wasn’t just some pretty fog spirit. She was a damn problem. For a long moment, nobody said anything. They all looked too helpless to fight back. The fog had knocked the fight out of every one of them. Lyra’s arms hung at her sides, eyes glazed. Levin’s jaw clenched, but his shoulders had dropped in defeat. Even Kevin, our supposed boss, just stood there, hands loose and empty. The only good news was that the fog didn’t seem like it wanted to hurt us.

Finally, when the silence felt endless, I floated forward. “So what are you?” I asked. “You let my friends fall into those hallucinations, then showed up to save us. I believe you already know what we want, so how about skipping the riddles?”

She didn’t answer right away. Her gaze lingered on me, as if weighing how much I deserved to know.

“What I am… is memory. What you call fog is merely the form I chose. Names are for the living. I am what’s left behind.” Her voice held a strange softness, layered with something deeper than sorrow.

The mist in her eyes shimmered with a quiet sadness.

“Before any of you entered this forest, I was asleep. I have no idea for how long. Millions of years, maybe even more. The hallucinations you saw came from me, but not by choice. They were the echoes of my resentment and regret, my failures drifting through the fog. I wasn’t in control.”

Her eyes stayed fixed on me.

“When you arrived, Dan… that is your name now, isn’t it? The moment your mana touched mine, something within you awakened me. My soul recognized you, even if my thoughts were a haze at first. Now, everything is clear.”

She turned her attention to Levin. “I knew what was about to awaken in you, so I did what I had to do. Forgive me. Maybe this was fate.” She looked at him closely, as if weighing what to say next. “When I sensed what was dormant inside you, something once tied to a presence I knew well, I recognized the risk. I don’t know how you carry his signature, but you need to be careful with that power.”

Her gaze hardened.

“If you’re not careful, The Shadow Phoenix takes more than it gives.” Her voice dropped lower, almost a whisper now, but the weight of it pressed on all of us. It felt like a warning meant for each of us, not just Levin.

Levin didn’t say anything. He just stared at her, shoulders tense, like he was trying to swallow something too big to speak around. After a long pause, she turned her full attention to Lyra. A troubled expression crossed her face, eyes clouded by something heavy.

Lyra shifted under the weight of her stare, her brows tightening as the silence dragged on. “…What?” she asked, uneasy. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

The fog woman’s reply came as a low murmur, her voice drifting through all of us. “Why are you even here? I suppose this really was fate.” She stepped forward and gathered Lyra into an embrace, her arms wrapping around her like drifting silk. “I pray you always stay strong.”

Lyra stiffened. Her arms hovered awkwardly at her sides, unsure whether to push away or hug back. “What... what? Hey!” she blurted, but it was less protest than confusion. A moment ago, they’d been locked in a death stare. Now she was getting hugged by a divine fog auntie? “I—uh—I don’t understand any of this. Thanks...?” she stammered.

I couldn’t take it anymore. From the beginning, this fog had been speaking in vague nonsense. Every question just led to more question marks. “Hello? Are you having a brain problem? We came for answers, not to join a riddle contest. Are you messing with us, or is this just your way of playing us for fools?”

She let go of Lyra and turned toward me. “You truly remember nothing?” she asked, watching me closely.

“I floated back a little, baffled. Lady, of course I don’t! If I did, do you think I’d be standing here asking you like an idiot? Whatever it is you think I should know, it’s not there. So how about you start explaining instead of playing ghost fortune cookie or fog goddess? And while you’re at it, how about starting with that True Fate Seed you mentioned before?”

She tilted her head. The mist around her growing still. “Goddess...”

“The True Fate Seeds are the origin of all things. Their power lies far beyond your grasp. Even the magic that breathes through this world exists only because of them. Such power is strong enough to bend the course of destiny itself… and that is why they are called True Fate Seeds.”

“As for the rest...” For a moment, her gaze drifted far away. She turned her back, then faced me again, studying me in silence. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely audible, her eyes almost pitying.

“If you can’t remember, then it’s not time yet. There’s a reason. Something is keeping it from you. I cannot force it open.”

My temper flared. “Sounds like a convenient excuse to stay cryptic. So you’re dodging the answer?”

“It’s not an excuse. It’s mercy.” Her eyes flickered with sorrow, maybe even regret. “Some things are left unsaid for a reason. Forcing open what should stay buried never ends well.”

My voice caught in my throat. I’d told Lyra almost the same thing earlier today.

“You, of all people, should understand this best. Some truths only return when they’re meant to... because you held the World Dice.”

“Huh? I what?”

“It’s not you,” she said gently. “But the dice you’re residing in. That’s the World Dice.”

Some part of me clenched at those words, unwilling to just accept it and move on.

World Dice.

The name rippled through me, distant yet hauntingly familiar. It was as if some part of me recognized it but refused to say why. Hearing it felt like catching the first notes of a forgotten lullaby: a memory too faint to hold, yet heavy with a loss I hadn’t realized I carried until now. I almost asked her what it meant or what the World Dice actually do, but the answer was already in her eyes, she wasn’t going to say more.

Around me, the others looked just as surprised to learn my dice body actually had a name. Of course it had a name, but it felt weird to only discover it now, after eighteen years of just calling it “the dice.” Then, uninvited, something else surfaced. A memory from that tar-soaked nightmare: the chains, the screaming, the pain that lingered in my chest, and her words from yesterday echoing back.

“Who is Jennie?” The name tasted unfamiliar, but the ache it left felt too real. Was she someone I’d loved in a past life? Did I really have a life before Earth? I didn’t know. Hearing her name again felt wrong in a way I couldn’t explain. Lyra glanced over, her expression tightening with concern. The fog woman looked at her too, lingering for a moment. Finally, she spoke, her voice quieter than before.

“Jennie was the true spirit of the World Dice.”

I reeled back. “Wait! Someone else has been in the dice this whole time? How the hell did I not know? Is she dead? No, wait… someone said something about rolling a natural six. Then you said Jennie. That voice—was that her?”

My voice cracked with confusion. The fog lady didn’t answer right away. Her eyes dropped slightly, and for a moment, she looked almost… human.

“No,” she said. “She isn’t dead, but she’s not truly awake either. I can barely sense her, and I don’t know why she’s in this state.”

“How am I supposed to fix that? How do I wake her up?”

“You need a source, something powerful enough to help her recover her strength. If you focus, you should be able to sense her presence.”

Her words struck something deep inside me.

Maybe this Jennie, whoever she really was, held the key to why I'd been reincarnated into this world. I tried to calm myself, drawing in a slow breath, and made myself focus, even as my heart pounded in my chest. Focus, Dan. I forced myself to listen, searching for anything, any sign of her.

Jennie.

My mind stretched out, but found only the usual noise. Just emptiness at the edge of awareness, a distant hush of wind. For a long moment, there was nothing at all. Then I sensed it: a faint prickle at the base of my skull, the lightest scrape, almost like footsteps nearly lost in the air.

I opened my eyes. Something moved in the silence.

What was that?