In that fleeting moment, Lunelle felt as though she had stumbled upon something far beyond her understanding.
A fine sheen of fragrant sweat clung to her skin, soaking through her clothes in the blink of an eye.
But the worst part wasn't the sudden chill running down her spine—it was the abrupt change in the simulation panel, which had until now remained quiet.
[You have unintentionally uncovered a hidden secret buried within yourself.]
[Sensing its exposure, the residual consciousness of the individual known as "Seele Vollerei" begins to stir within your mind.]
"So Seele from the previous era… she's still alive? And she's been hidden in my consciousness all along?"
As the system's message faded, a sharp pain pierced through Lunelle's awareness, as if something long dormant had awakened.
Then she realized it—the faint, almost imperceptible sense of disharmony that had lingered deep within her was suddenly spreading, like a blade slipping free from its sheath.
Within the inner realm of her consciousness, a space that should have belonged to her alone, a faint silhouette began to take shape.
Lunelle recognized it at once.
The blurred figure wasn't unfamiliar. It was her—the "Blood-Eyed Seele" who had taken control of her body in the last simulation and was ultimately gunned down by Fire Moth forces.
But this Seele was different. She wasn't the same hollow, frenzied existence from before. The feral killing machine that had once appeared now stood before her with something... else lingering behind her gaze.
"Why do you suppress the bloodlust in your heart? If you are also Seele... then surely you understand me, don't you?"
The voice that came from the phantom figure was low and trembled with madness, yet carried a chilling clarity.
Lunelle froze. The shock of recognition came with a strange sense of opportunity.
This time, Seele hadn't been triggered by a wave of killing intent—she had been forced out prematurely. Without that violent surge, the Authority of Creation and Destruction wouldn't activate. That meant...
That meant this Seele—this fragment—hadn't yet fallen entirely. A part of her original self still lingered, however faintly.
And judging by the fractured gleam in those crimson eyes, Lunelle could guess which part remained.
"I'm sorry, Seele. If I didn't do this, I wouldn't have been able to speak to you like this... though I know, I might not be Seele."
Her voice was soft, cautious, laced with a fragile hope. She was reaching out, praying the Seele in front of her wasn't the same one from before.
"I do know a little… I came because I want to help you."
"…Not Seele?"
A dry laugh echoed through the space.
"If even you're not Seele… then what am I supposed to be?"
The sneer that followed twisted with mockery, as if Lunelle's sincerity had somehow insulted her.
Lunelle's brow furrowed. Why was it that no one believed her when she told the truth?
But I'm really not Seele! TAT
Her complaint felt ridiculous, even in her own head, but she couldn't help it. She had no reason to lie—but how could she convince someone who refused to listen?
But then, the red-eyed Seele paused. Her gaze lingered on Lunelle's sea-blue eyes—clear, untouched, untainted by any of the madness within the Herrscher's ideology.
"…So that's it. You dare to forget everything?"
Her voice dropped.
"You've forgotten everything we endured—and now you think you can stand here, talking like you understand? That you want to help me? Don't make me laugh."
"Seele, can't we just… talk, like normal people?"
It was getting worse. The way Seele looked at her—disgust, rejection—it burned.
Lunelle had no idea what memories she was being blamed for forgetting. But how could she recall what she didn't know?
I really don't remember anything…
No matter how sincere she was, Lunelle couldn't force herself to remember things that didn't exist in her current mind.
"Hmph. You really have the nerve to forget…"
Seele's eyes narrowed. But then, her tone shifted. "If you truly want to help… then bear this pain with me."
There was a cruel sort of calm in her voice, like someone about to deliver a punishment dressed as a gift.
Before Lunelle could respond, the phantom Seele's figure flickered, closing the distance between them in an instant. Arms wrapped tightly around Lunelle's waist—familiar, cold, suffocating.
"Eh? Seele—wait, what are you—"
Lunelle's breath caught. The closeness, the sudden grip—it was too intimate, too forceful.
Seele's form wasn't solid, not fully. Lunelle could probably break free if she wanted to. The grip was firm, but not binding.
But still…
"Oh? Didn't you say you wanted to help me? This doesn't look like someone willing to cooperate."
Her voice pressed against Lunelle's ear, low and dangerous. A reminder of Lunelle's own words, twisted back at her like a blade.
Seele was holding her own kindness hostage, manipulating her desire to help into chains.
In truth, in this shared mental realm, Lunelle held the advantage. Seele didn't have the strength to seize control completely—not yet.
But confronted with her wife's accusation, Lunelle hesitated. She didn't want Seele to hate her. Not again.
"…Fine. I won't resist."
"Good girl~" Seele murmured, her tone soft and sharp all at once. "Stay still."
"After all… you don't want me to be disappointed in you, do you?"
Her words wrapped around Lunelle like a vice. And as Lunelle fell silent, Seele's crimson smile grew ever more enchanting, ever more dangerous.