Dancing on the golden ashes

Chapter 230 230: I think... she wanted to be saved

I watched as another version of myself perished right before my very eyes, yet strangely enough, it didn't end there. Somehow, the vision kept unfolding, as if the world itself refused to let the scene fade away. I saw the Creator rushing into the portal alongside the angelic man, both of them cloaked in an air of self-proclaimed righteousness. Yet despite their so-called holiness, they looked no different from the same kind of hypocrites and scumbags I had come to despise. What was holy about that? Perhaps that was the true face of those who claim to be righteous—a mask, carefully crafted to hide the rot beneath.

After that brief glance, the Creator never once turned his gaze in my direction again. Was that a coincidence? Or had he somehow sensed my presence? But that would make no sense. Creatures on their level operated on powers and insights I could barely comprehend, a world of strength and awareness far beyond anything I could grasp.

Soon, everyone left. Everyone... except for one woman.

She stood alone, her presence sharp and dark like a blade cloaked in shadows. Her form radiated a demonic nature—jagged wings arched behind her, their crimson veins pulsing faintly as if they carried molten blood. Her gaze lingered on the drifting corpse of my other self, a lifeless body swallowed by the endless abyss. Somehow, I found myself drifting alongside her, weightless in this strange limbo.

"Pitiful creature..." the woman muttered, her voice a low whisper laced with anger and a sorrow so deep it seemed to cut through the air. Her eyes narrowed, burning with a barely contained fury, yet there was something softer lingering within them, a fleeting trace of regret.

She flapped her wings once, gliding slowly toward the lifeless body. Her gaze sharpened, and she examined the corpse as though no detail could elude her. Her eyes traveled from the cracked skull down to the scorched fingertips, pausing at each wound as if committing them to memory. Every tear, every burn, every fractured bone seemed to pull her in deeper, and for a moment, it felt as though she was unraveling the story behind each injury.

And then, with a flick of her wrist, a surge of dark energy spiraled from her palm like liquid shadow, coiling around the corpse. The twisting tendrils of darkness snaked their way through the body, weaving themselves together until they formed a blackened heart—a twisted, pulsating core that shimmered like a stone soaked in ink. Without hesitation, she guided the heart into the gaping cavity where my other self's shattered heart had once been.

"Rise up, child. Enough playing dead..." she said gently, her voice softer now, like a mother waking a sleeping child. It was a tone no one would expect from a demon, yet somehow it suited her. Perhaps because, like me, she knew the truth that even demons could still feel.

Well, who was I to judge? I was a demon too... I guess. And no matter what others believed, I knew this much: I still had feelings. I didn't feel that different from a human, perhaps because I had once been one. Or maybe... maybe I hadn't. Honestly, I didn't know anymore.

My eyes lit up as I watched the once frozen, lifeless body twitch slightly — a fragile, almost imperceptible movement that hinted at something stirring within. Yet those eyes... those eyes were pitch black, as if the void itself had claimed them. Was this the Creator's lingering influence? Or was this the result of the demon woman's power? I narrowed my gaze, watching closely, desperate to uncover the truth.

"Why am I alive again?" a voice whispered weakly, hoarse and tired — a voice that was supposed to belong to me. "Just let me perish into the abyss... let me be alone from now on. I have truly nothing left now..."

Those lonely eyes... that defeated gaze that held no light, no fire — it mirrored something I knew all too well. Was I always like that too? I wondered bitterly, swallowing the rising ache in my chest. After all, we were the same person — or at least, I thought we were. Yet somehow, in this moment, we felt like strangers — two people shaped by the same past but walking down separate roads.

"You don't want revenge?" the demon woman asked, her voice both curious and mocking. "Even after he betrayed you like that? You humans are funny creatures… no wonder you went extinct."

Her laughter rang hollow, cold and sharp like a blade scraping against stone. But what did she mean by gone extinct? Were there truly no humans left in the universe? Were they not on the same planet I was now? Or was this some distant timeline, one so far removed from my own that the threads of fate had unraveled entirely? Questions swarmed my mind, spinning faster than I could catch them. If I had the chance, I would ask them all — every single one — until either I ran out of breath or the other me strangled me out of frustration. Honestly, I'd probably do that too... ha, typical me.

"Revenge, huh?" the other me muttered bitterly, her voice laced with exhaustion. "Where did my revenge lead me? Alone… without anybody by my side… I only had him." Her voice wavered, breaking under the weight of memories I couldn't yet understand. "The two of us escaped the system… the two of us were victorious… and for what? How many more worlds shall fall for that empty throne? How many more people must suffer for something that only exists in fairytales? And what if someone wins? To live for all eternity... alone?"

Her gaze turned distant, hollow, as if she were staring into an endless void that stretched far beyond what I could see. "Those who want such a fate have no heart... or no idea what it means to stay alive for all eternity — to watch everything you've ever known crumble into dust while you remain… the last one standing."

I could see it then — not just anger, not just bitterness — but something far deeper. Loneliness clung to her like a shadow, seeping into her every word, her every breath. Yet beneath that pain... there was something else — a weight she carried that I couldn't quite place. Was it regret? A burden from her timeline — something that had twisted her into this somber reflection of myself?

But none of that answered the most pressing question. Why was I alive? Why was my world still standing when hers had clearly fallen? There had to be a reason... I refused to believe this was all just some twisted reminder of how powerful the Creator had become.

"I can see you've suffered enough, human..." the demon woman said at last, her voice quieter now, carrying something deeper than pity — something closer to understanding. "Yet... I can feel in your heart that you're happy to be alive."

Those words struck like a hammer against glass. The other me's empty eyes trembled, and for the first time, a flicker of something else surfaced — a fragile spark of surprise... and, perhaps, a silent plea for saving. As her gaze locked with the demon woman's, her eyes shook — not just from disbelief... but from something far more desperate.

I think... she wanted to be saved.