Apologies

Jarathia | Jarathia City | Mersa’s Mansion | Present Time

Maxwell ends his story.

Crystal dust hangs around Nine, his control fraying at the edges. Maxwell stands near him, guilt heavy in his eyes.

“Please don’t tell me any more.” Nine says, voice thin. “Or else—”

“I’m sorry,” Jenna starts, “but—”

“I couldn’t stop her,” Maxwell adds.

“Don’t apologize,” Hanla says, steady. “Jenna, Maxwell—thank you for telling us.”

Jenna opens the door to a vast guest room—a scattered appearance, high shelves, two wide beds, spiderwebs in every corner. Nine strides over to the window, looks up at the moon, and sits on the sill. Hanla watches him, worry sharpening her features.

“Jenna,” Hanla says quietly, “give us a moment.”

Jenna nods and slips out. As the door closes, Sunthia’s light steps hurry through the hall.

It’s a gut punch. Knowing the truth—how they fought fate for a tomorrow this broken. And now a second calamity—we barely survived the first. If he didn’t fight with me, I’d have died there. Our wounds run deep. If half the citizens will someday turn to beasts… this place really is a hellhole. And his mind—cracking. I can read people, but I didn’t expect Chisa to choose this for an uncertain future. She trusted me. Why does it ache like this? I want to cry. Be strong, be strong—I can’t give in. I need to focus. My thoughts…

Nine is watching the muted glow over the volcano. Crystals bud and fade around him. His face is as motionless as a mask.

Hanla steps closer. She unbuttons her shirt, revealing a torso wrapped in bandages.

“I read a lot of books.” she jokes, soft and raw. “The protagonists were always covered in bandages. Never thought I’d live that trope. Honestly? It feels like hell.”

The crystals thin, drifting away.

“You know,” Nine says, eyes on the night sky, “my first love was Chisa.”

“Oh?” Hanla answers. “Who was the second?”

“An airhead,” he says. “A mage.”

He meets Hanla’s gaze. “Everyone dies. Chasing dreams, protecting something—and leaving me behind. If I cry, my surroundings drown in chaos. If I rage, crystals hurt people. It’s… like that.”

“Nine.” Hanla’s voice steadies, one tear escaping. “I won’t pretend it’s the exact same. But I’ll put everything on the table too.”

She places a hand on his shoulder.

“I trust you. So I’ll tell you: in this life I’m Hanla—but I am also Cezaria Regona.”

Disappointment flickers over Nine’s face. “So you’re hoping for a piece of Jarathia too? Even if it kills you?”

“No,” Hanla says. “I’m an adventurer, not a princess. That’s why I took on my old name. Because this isn’t my original body. Or—maybe it is now, but… the soul of the girl who was originally born in it is gone now, and I’m inside. I have to face the fact that my presence here wasn’t planned. That I took away her place in life—even if she died by accident.”

Nine frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I had a past life,” Hanla says. “Another world. I was a journalist. I chased the truth—false patterns, corrupt systems—tried to reveal everything to everyone. But I lost. Facts didn’t matter without the power to be heard. I dug too deep and got killed for it. It was so cold, even with someone there who cared for me. I remember I felt like I was freezing when I died. I don’t want anyone to feel that. I don’t want anyone to die. I wanted to be a hero, fight for what’s right… but I never noticed all the good right around me.”

She looks him in the eyes. Her hand trembles; she blinks back the rest of her tears.

“I had people who loved me. Like family. And I died because I wanted to drag shadows into the light. A police officer helped me—stood by me. Once, I asked how he lived with it. He said he felt guilty, heavy. Said with every action he’d still never let go of his empathy. And he’d keep fighting to make the world better.” She pauses, breath hitching. “He looked so sad when he said that.”

Hanla’s knees give out. She sinks to the floor, tears spilling freely down her cheeks.

Hanla wipes them away with the back of her hand. “You know… it’s different to only read about this stuff. Now I’m living it. And my friends from… before… they don’t exist here. I died and left behind my mother, my father, my sister, my team, my best friend. Everyone. Why am I like this? After all these years I still— I always told myself—”

Nine lets out a small laugh, a tear clinging to his lashes. “To be strong and badass, I guess?”

Hanla snorts through a hiccup. “Your comedic timing is the worst.” She smiles anyway. “But yeah. That’s what I was going to say.”

“Don’t apologize, leader, I believe you.” Nine says when she starts to. He closes his eyes. In that darkness, children run—Jerome and Chisa tugging his sleeve.

“Come on—” Chisa’s voice echoes.

His eyes open. He stares at his bandaged arms. “I don’t know, Hanla. People keep saying I don’t have to kill. Just be the hero of the story. Stay pure. What does that even mean?”

Hanla’s jaw tightens. “I see it too. I’ll be honest, Chisa’s actions were cruel. Mass murder is wrong even if you have reasons for it… But that’s the point—she forced her uncertainty aside with an even worse solution. In the end, she just tried to protect what was left. And… I think she did it for you. And if you’d kill the higher-ups after all this, I’d understand. They messed up. Big time.”

Nine looks at the dark sky, forced to face the truth staring back at him. His voice breaks as he admits it. “I loved her. I wish she’d been honest with me.”

The sentence breaks something open in Hanla as well. “I understand,” she whispers, and her tears come fast, unstoppable.

“I envy you,” Nine says, dropping down to the floor beside her.

“I look pathetic,” she mutters.

“No. I envy that you can show it. I can’t. If I let go—” He shivers, the restraint shaking his whole frame. “I’m scared. But… it helped. I shed one tear, at least.”

Hanla slips an arm around his shoulders. “With me here, you can let it out. All of it.” He leans into her and, little by little, sleep drags him under.

“I never expected to resonate with you this much,” she murmurs to the quiet room. “My friend.”

Outside the door, Sunthia stands frozen, having heard everything. She turns and walks downstairs.

Jenna waits with Maxwell in the hall. Maxwell steps forward. “I have a message from Jerome,” he says. “Those ‘bandits’ you fought—the ones who hurt you—they weren’t ours. They’d killed one of our squads and wore their clothes. Outlaws. They provoked you on purpose. We failed to protect you, so…”

He bows, deep and shaking. “I’m sorry. Truly.”

Sunthia bites her lip. The regret in his golden eyes is plain to see. She steps past him, a hand pressed to her stomach.

“Sunthia, wait,” Jenna says, hurrying after her. She glances back. “Maxwell, I’m sorry—I have to go.”

“I understand,” Maxwell says.

He sags against the wall when they’re gone. “Jerome… why did you kill yourself? Why this onslaught? Why did we have to hide it?” He scrubs his hands over his face. “In the end, news spread that Nine killed you instead. Chisa went on a rampage because of it. Only later did the truth come out—not one crystal on your body, no matter how long they searched. Why? Did you want the nobles to think they had a chance? Lure them into becoming careless?” He exhales. “Maybe it’s a bit of everything.”

He stares down the long corridor. “Somehow we’re all connected. But you’re a huge asshole,” he declares, half-laugh, half-sob. “To manipulate your best friend. Your sister. How did you know someone that strong was coming anyway? That you could rely on some girl who had only just… arrived…”

A thought clicks; his eyes widen. “Don’t tell me—you knew about her arrival?“

The picture sharpens in his mind. “You damn gambler,” he whispers. “Even so… your suicide still makes no sense. You surely had a plan.”

Memories unspool: the bandits as they were.

“We had a different structure once,” Maxwell says to the empty hall. “When you took over five years ago, you and Chisa carved a new road. We stopped stealing from the poor. We hit the rich. We took the mines. As kids, ‘bandit’ was the only future that seemed realistic. Maybe you two were killers. But to us…” His voice softens. “You were heroes.”