It was too late now. Despite holding power, I was not able to save anyone. I gazed at the floor, now with lost determination in myself. The water, without doubt, reflected a person named Wolff Muller. But, it did not feel anything more than the name: “Hermann von Harthenheigh.” Now, my name became lost, and died with all those who I could not save. Everytime that I gazed at myself, I saw myself lost in this tangled mystery, controlled by an external entity. A sense of control over my fate felt absent.

I looked above, and found that I was not in the outpost anymore. The moon was setting with a red hue, the crows cawed, the nightingales arrived, singing to welcome darkness. The small birds, those who become prey, all hid. Despite that, night will come. I must be like those birds as well. 

I did not care anymore.

I recalled Lukas’ final words: “Praise to the Heavenly Lord!” I tried to suppress the thought of Oulanem’s mention of me waking up, and its link to the story, ‘Lux.’ The more the pieces started to become ordered, the more I wanted my thoughts to digress. Who was I, to begin with? It felt that I could do nothing but gaze at myself, trying to discern my identity. Yet, it seemed it slipped out of my hands so easily.

I burst out in laughter. I laughed in mockery of the Heavenly Lord, and laughed at Lukas’ words.

Yet, I knew that blaming would get me nowhere. I could not do anything but keep on playing his game, not knowing where it goes. It felt like I was stuck in a maze with no map for hindsight. I fell on my hip, as my legs started to shake. I let out a small laugh at the end.

“Sir, may I inquire about your presence?”

I looked up as I noticed a gentle voice come from the front. I shook in fear. I recognized that voice. I burst into laughter again, swinging around while sitting.

“Oh, I cannot take it anymore!”

I knew it was my previous self. I got up on my feet in a playful manner, and pointed my gun at him. I shot it aiming for his head, but he seemed to wither into dust before the bullet reached him.

“Praise to the Heavenly Lord!” The other voice echoed in my head. I closed my left ear to avoid it.

I kept on shooting whenever I saw him, but it did not do anything to him as he evaporated every time. Hastily, I tried to negate all the mana nearby. I put a quick magic circle that I drew from my foot on the ground, with the name of two primordials, the Holy Mana, and Miasma, inscribed on it. They were two counters which negated each other’s nature, though they were entities which I used in my previous life and I could not be sure of their effectiveness. I tapped my feet on the magic circle twice to activate it, and it seemed to slow down his movement a bit. I started to feel a strain on my body moments after I used it.

“Tell me your name, you imposter!” My voice gasped from the mana drain. The voice similar to before started to echo again in my mind:

“Murderer! Murderer!” 

I saw myself, Wolff Muller, standing in front of me. Then, there were many, repeating the same phrase again, and again:

“Murderer! Murderer”

I opened my eyes, having found a method to deal with my previous self. Slowly, I raised the gun, and pointed it to my head. It was a surreal sight. I have killed myself multiple times. I deserve the title well.

The man stopped in front of me. He started to disappear into dust.

Another voice interrupted. I could not tell what it was telling, but I knew it was Oulanem. I thought I was looking at a mirror.

Soon, everything started to fade. It seemed I was teleported elsewhere. Unknown sights started to etch right into my mind. My eyes were flashed with black and white light, and I sensed pain everywhere around my body. I could not tell what was happening to me. At the same time, I was filled with a sense of clarity, to the point that It felt like I was experiencing death.

Now, I woke up in a desolate place. It seemed I was in a chamber of some sorts. I started to see the sights again, and the voices echoed again in my head.

“Murderer! Murderer!”

I saw the door, the gun, and blood everywhere. I lost my balance, and looked around. A voice again started to echo in my head.

“May I know your name?”

“Wolff Muller.” I responded instinctively, without hesitation this time. I put my hands on my mouth as I started to feel I was losing my volition.

“No, your original name.”

“Hermann von Harthenheigh.” I said it without a moment’s delay. I started to gasp and sweat at this fading of conscience.

Then, I saw my face again, this time wearing a clock pinpoint on the hour of the dusk. I scanned the cloak that I wore at my back, with a pattern similar to a reversed cross inscribed on it. I should have worn a confused look at this image. Yet, just from the nostalgic fear alone, I knew now who I had become after I had fallen. The fear that I was feeling, I knew it just from that.

The pieces seemed to order by themselves. The only person who had entered the library was me, and there was no one else who had killed me, except that I had fallen. I was the one who had spread out the barrier, being the only one that knew of the library’s malfunction. The mere fact that I failed to recognize the Heavenly Lord’s symbol, “Immanuel,” in the library was enough proof that I had fallen, and the letter could only have been written by me, who knew of the scene.

What I had thought was the spirit’s doing must have been something I had done. I was the one that knew I had gone to the library, after all.

I looked down on the floor, with fear in my eyes. I felt an oozing feeling in my heart, as I started to doubt my mind.

I realized I had become Oulanem.