Chapter 170

Aria gazed at the door.

Light poured in slowly from beyond the door as it opened, filling the dark room with sunlight.

Aria’s world, once filled only with shades of black and white, began to bloom into color.

“…Why… Why?”

She found herself stammering again.

There was no particular reason. It just felt like she had to.

Thinking back, it had always been this way.

During the time when her world consisted only of books, walls, and her home, it was you who had first shattered those monotonous colors.

That day.

I remember you, standing beyond the unusually dark window.

You looked just the same as today.

Your hair, dark and deep black. Eyes so intense they seemed to pull me in. Even your pale skin and lips, which looked almost lifeless, appeared as if cast in black and white. Yet, the sunlight and blue sky that flooded in as you drew back the curtains filled my world with color.

Yes.

Just like now.

— Step

You opened the door, walking in with those colors, standing before me.

I could only stare blankly up at you.

I longed for you, but I never believed you would return.

“…Why?”

The same words escaped my lips once more.

They held no real meaning.

They were just words that tumbled out from my mind, without any conscious thought.

All the memories that had resurfaced so helplessly.

All the regrets I’d harbored while thinking of you.

All the despair I felt, blaming myself.

None of them lingered in my mind right now.

The room had come alive simply because you were here.

The once lifeless scenery around me began to stir again.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Just from seeing you again.

I recalled the times when you embraced me.

“Ah… Ah…”

Inarticulate sounds, which could not form into proper words, spilled from my lips as I looked at you.

You crossed the unnecessarily large room, standing before me.

Your face hadn’t changed since then.

The same sorrowful expression you had when you would embrace me, comforting me in my weariness.

Not a single feature had shifted.

So, I began to hope—hope that perhaps you would hold me once more.

Even though I knew it was shameless, I swallowed nervously.

“…”

I looked up at your face.

Only now did I truly see your expression.

And then I realized.

Your face was completely devoid of emotion.

Despite looking at what must be my haggard face, not even a twitch of your eyebrows.

And so, I began to wonder.

Maybe you no longer felt anything for me.

Since the day I chose to leave you behind, cutting you from my life as if you were merely part of my past, had you done the same—completely severed me from your heart?

‘…That must be it.’

It had to be.

Looking at Ian Blackangers’ cold expression, I finally understood.

I had committed an unforgivable sin against you.

You would never come to save me now.

The moment I realized this, the world, which had grown so bright just a second ago, was once again consumed by darkness.

It was as if I had been swallowed by the deepest ocean depths. A world where not a single light could be seen.

Haah…”

I felt like I was suffocating in that abyss.

I made my way to Aria’s quarters.

“We’ve been expecting you, Sir Ian Blackangers. I will escort you to the Lady Saint Candidate’s residence.”

They greeted me as they had in the past.

It seemed the Saint Candidate had made a special request.

As I stepped into the room, a cloud of stale dust swirled up.

It was a spacious, luxurious room.

And in one corner of it, there she was—Aria, sitting hunched over on the edge of the bed.

Her condition was immediately clear—it wasn’t good.

Her already messy bangs were sticking out in all directions, completely disheveled.

The dark circles under her eyes were so deep they seemed like they might reach the bridge of her nose.

‘She’s still holding onto that.’

In her left hand, she tightly clutched a miniature of the Hero.

Her grip was so firm that her hand had turned pale.

It was exactly as I had expected—Aria had completely fallen apart.

But despite her haggard appearance, her expression was somewhat different.

There was a faint glimmer of hope on her face.

It was an expression filled with desire and anticipation.

How could she make such a face?

In this situation?

I looked down at her with a bit of curiosity.

And then I understood.

“I-Ian…”

Her voice was as cracked and dry as someone suffering from thirst.

Her eyes, jittery and unstable, trembled incessantly.

Yet her lips were still smiling.

I knew what that face and those movements meant.

I’d seen people like this before.

People who were addicted to drugs.

People who, though addicted, had been forced to quit and then fell into withdrawal.

When they finally laid eyes on the drugs again, they made the same expression.

A face overwhelmed by darkness and pain, yet spotting a cheap glimmer of hope beyond it.

With the face of a drug addict, Aria looked up at me.

‘…’

The Ian Blackangers she was hoping for wasn’t here.

False hope.

False desire.

False longing.

She was searching for something in me that no longer existed.

All her expectations would only lead to disappointment.

Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t give it to her.

That person—whoever she thought I was—was long gone.

So, I made no expression.

I simply looked down at her, not as someone who might fulfill her hopes, but as someone who could see the truth.

Perhaps I was the very person responsible for pushing away her hope—for pushing away myself.

“I… Ian?”

Had my coldness reached her?

Her hopeful expression began to fade.

Her eyes, once filled with hope, slowly lost their light, and her trembling lips began to quiver even more.

Who could call her a Saint now?

The divine power that should have radiated from her was nowhere to be felt.

It was almost expected.

After all, Aria, who had yet to awaken, was nothing more than a puppet pretending to be a Saint Candidate.

Her confidence and pride had been misplaced from the start, like a fishing hook caught in the wrong place.

In truth, I had done nothing for Aria.

Any sacrifices made for her had been by the original owner of this body, not me.

As a player, as someone who liked Aria as one of the heroines, the only emotion I felt for her now was pity.

Who could look at her like this and think she was a heroine?

An addict, trembling as she clung to the thought of her lost drug.

That’s all Aria was now—nothing more, nothing less.

And that’s precisely why I’d given her the Hero miniature.

She needed to feel it—the reality that Ian, her crutch, her drug, was no longer here.

Aria, you are in a situation where you can no longer have any expectations.

Seeing her expression crumble, I knew my intention had hit the mark.

“There is no hope for you in me.”

That was the only sincere thing I could say to her.

What did I just hear?

Hope? In you?

Aria’s mind went blank.

“N-No…”

Panicking, she reached out to grab Ian’s hand.

But Ian firmly pulled his hand away.

Instead, Aria clung desperately to the hem of Ian’s shirt.

Kneeling before him, she muttered in a pleading voice.

“I-Ian. I’ll do better, okay? Please…”

But Ian took a step back.

With the force of her grip gone, Aria collapsed helplessly to the floor.

“Aria, the Ian you’re talking about isn’t here. I am nothing to you.”

“But… but we were childhood frie—!”

“No. That’s not a thing.”

Ian’s reply felt like the world was collapsing for Aria.

Not a childhood friend. It was Ian who had always come to visit whenever Aria was left alone at home. It was Ian who had been the first to say they were friends. But now, he was shaking his head firmly, denying it.

… She knew.

She knew the reason why.

Aria squeezed the Hero miniature tightly in her hand.

Because she had thrown it away.

Because she had rejected the heart Ian had desperately extended to her.

Because she had declared that she was no longer “Gloomy”.

Aria wasn’t his childhood friend. It was Gloomy who had been his friend.

Drip.

Tears began to fall from Aria’s eyes.

“I… I’m Gloomy… Gloomy, Ian… I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. Please, I’m sorry…”

“You’re Aria. You’re the Saint Candidate.”

“No… No… I’m sorry. Please. No, I’m not Aria… Let me be Gloomy again. Let me be Gloomy… please?”

“Aria, are you denying the path you chose for yourself? You said it with your own mouth, remember? That you were no longer Gloomy. That you didn’t need the past anymore. Are you saying you can’t even keep that promise?”

“I… I…”

No words came to mind to defend herself.

There couldn’t be.

Everything was her fault.

Despair swirled through her mind, over and over, burning itself out only to return.

Hic…”

Aria cried.

Even so, she kept crying while looking into Ian’s cold eyes.

“I-I’m s-sorry… Forgive me. I-I was wrong. I was wrong. I’m so sorry…”

She crawled on the floor, groveling as she apologized.

Ian just looked down at her.

Surprisingly, he felt no particular emotion.

Only thoughts of how he could use Aria in the next scenario crossed his mind.

But.

It seemed she was of no use for now.

Aria was far more pathetic than he had expected.

“…I’m leaving for today.”

Ian turned, opening the door to leave.

Aria, on all fours, grabbed his ankle, crawling as if in desperation.

“No, don’t! Don’t leave… Don’t gooo!”

Ian ignored her.

Pulling his foot free wasn’t difficult.

At that moment.

Aria suddenly shot up and ran toward the desk.

— Clang!

The sound of something breaking rang out.

Ian turned to look.

‘…Is that a holy relic?’

A glass figurine of a sacred object lay broken.

Aria stood there, bleeding from her hand, holding one of the shattered pieces.

“If… if you leave…”

Her hands trembled violently.

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