Chapter 284 - : 284 The end is near.

"Vivian… you were Vivian?" Charlotte asked softly.

There was a small hint of surprise in her voice, but it wasn't too strong. It didn't feel strange to her that he would still be himself again.

After everything he had just told her, something like this didn't sound impossible anymore.

Still, the idea lingered in her mind, and she wanted to understand it better.

Vivian looked at her for a moment, then gave a small nod.

"Yeah…" he said quietly, his voice calm as he began to explain. "I was Vivian."

He paused for a second, as if choosing how to say it in the simplest way.

"But… it was a completely different life," he continued. "Everything was different there."

Charlotte stayed close to him, her head resting near his shoulder, her eyes fixed on his face.

She didn't interrupt, letting him speak at his own pace.

"In that life…" Vivian went on slowly, "I died because of the curse. It wasn't sudden. It took time… and everything started falling apart."

His voice remained steady, but there was a faint weight behind it.

"And you…" he added after a short pause, "…you were different too."

Charlotte's brows moved slightly, but she stayed silent.

"You became… someone feared," he said. "An empress… cold and powerful. People called you an evil queen."

He looked down a little as he spoke the next words.

"You killed many people… millions."

The room stayed quiet for a moment after that.

"And…" Vivian continued, his tone softening a little, "we had a son."

Charlotte's eyes blinked slowly.

"A boy named Ian."

He didn't go into details. He didn't explain why those memories felt strange to him, or why recalling them brought a dull ache inside his chest.

He didn't mention how confusing it was… how it didn't feel like a normal past life.

And he definitely didn't tell her about the deeper truth, that he had come from another world, a place where none of this existed, a place he could no longer fully remember.

Even he wasn't sure what was real anymore.

So he kept those thoughts to himself.

There was no need to say everything.

Not now.

Maybe not ever.

His mind moved quietly in that direction.

Charlotte loved Vivian.

That was the truth.

But what if she learned something that changed that?

What if she looked at him differently?

What if… she hated him?

The thought alone felt heavy.

He didn't need to think too much about the answer.

He already knew.

He wouldn't be able to bear it.

Not even a little.

So it was better to stay silent. At least until he understood everything himself.

Charlotte's soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

"You were Vivian… and we had a boy?" she asked again, her words slower this time.

Her voice dragged slightly at the end, like sleep was slowly catching up to her.

Vivian glanced at her and gave a small nod.

"Yeah," he said gently.

He shifted a little, adjusting his position so he could hold her more comfortably. His arm wrapped around her as he pulled her a bit closer.

"He looked like me," Vivian added, a faint smile appearing on his face. "But his hair… it was like yours."

There was a small hint of pride in his voice as he spoke.

"Other than that, he took everything from me."

Charlotte listened quietly, her eyes half-open now.

"And…" Vivian continued, though his tone changed slightly, becoming more thoughtful, "you were quite strict with him."

Charlotte didn't respond, but her expression shifted just a little.

"In this life, you always say you'll be gentle," he went on, a soft breath escaping him. "You say you'll give all your love…"

He paused for a moment.

"But there… you were different."

His gaze lowered slightly.

"You were always serious… always cold. You would scold him even for small things."

He remembered it clearly.

Not as something he saw with his own eyes… but through the pendant that carried his soul back then.

He had watched everything.

She rarely smiled.

There was always a faint gloom around her, like something inside her never found peace.

And the boy…

Vivian felt a small discomfort thinking about it.

Honestly, he had felt a little bad for him.

If things had been different… if he had been there…

He might have scolded her instead.

That thought made him sigh quietly.

That was also why he didn't fully believe her when she talked about being a soft and gentle mother in this life.

Still…

He didn't say that out loud.

He let the thought pass and cleared his mind.

He was about to continue speaking.

But the moment he turned his head…

A soft, steady breathing sound reached his ears.

Vivian paused.

Charlotte's eyes were closed.

She had fallen asleep.

"…She fell asleep?" he muttered quietly, a small hint of surprise on his face.

For a second, he just looked at her.

Then his expression softened.

He adjusted his hold on her gently, making sure she was comfortable in his arms.

Her lips were slightly pouted in her sleep, giving her an almost childish look.

Her brows were lightly drawn together, as if she was frowning even in her dreams.

Her chest rose and fell slowly, her breathing calm and even.

Her legs were still loosely wrapped around him, holding him in place without her even realizing it.

He let out a small chuckle under his breath.

"…How beautiful she is," he thought quietly.

There was no hesitation as he reached out and brushed a few strands of hair away from her face.

Then, leaning in slightly, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Sweet dreams… sweetheart," he whispered.

His voice was low and gentle, almost blending into the silence of the room.

As Vivian and everyone in the estate slept, the world slowly sank into a deep and quiet stillness.

The lights in the halls had gone dim. The servants had long returned to their rooms.

Even the guards, though still on duty, stood in silence, their movements slow and careful so they would not disturb the peace of the night.

Inside his room, Vivian remained still, his arms wrapped gently around Charlotte as she slept against him.

Her breathing was soft and even, her body warm and relaxed.

He did not move, letting her rest, his own eyes slowly closing as the calm of the night settled over him.

One by one, the entire estate fell into complete silence.

But far away from that quiet place…

On another land… another part of the world…

Things were not as peaceful.

…..

…..

In the continent of Axian, on the peak of a tall and lonely mountain, a man stood alone.

There was no one else around him.

No sound of people. No sign of life.

Only the wind… and the night.

He stood at the very edge of the peak, his figure tall and steady against the open sky.

His long jet-black hair moved freely in the cold wind, strands of it drifting across his face before being carried away again.

His eyes were black as well, deep and calm, yet holding something that could not be easily understood.

He was handsome.

Not just in a simple way, but in a sharp and striking way that made him stand out even in such a dark and empty place.

His gaze was lifted toward the sky.

The night above him was clear.

The full moon hung high, large and bright, spreading its pale light across the land below.

The mountain, the rocks, the trees… everything was touched by that soft white glow.

The air was cold.

A quiet kind of cold that wrapped around the body and stayed there.

Around him, the trees moved gently as the wind passed through them.

Their leaves rustled softly, creating a low, steady sound that echoed through the empty mountain.

The world felt still.

The man did not move for a long moment.

He simply stood there, looking at the moon.

Then, slowly… he raised his hand.

His fingers opened slightly as he reached out toward the sky, as if trying to grab something that was far beyond his reach.

His movement was calm.

"It seems… the end is near…" he muttered softly.

His voice was low, almost blending into the sound of the wind.

His hand remained raised for a moment longer before slowly lowering back down.

A faint expression appeared on his face.

Not quite a smile.

Not quite emotionless.

Something in between.

"It seems he has already grasped the emotions…" he said quietly, his eyes still fixed on the moon.

There was a slight pause.

"…though he is still far away from there."

The wind grew a little stronger, pushing against his clothes, making them flutter lightly.

"But this growth…" he continued, his voice steady, "…is better than every other cycle."

His words carried a strange weight.

Like they were not just thoughts, but something he had seen again and again.

Something repeated.

Something that had never truly ended.

He fell silent after that.

His gaze softened just a little as he looked at the sky, as if thinking about something far away… something no one else could see.

Time passed quietly.

The mountain remained still.

The moon shone above him, unchanged.

Then, after a long pause, he spoke again.

This time, his voice was firmer.

"It's about time…"

He lowered his hand completely, his posture straightening slightly.

"…the destruction descends."