The Puppeteer

In a place and time unknown even to the ancient records of legends, multiple figures gathered for a clandestine meeting. An oppressive tension hung in the air, thick enough to suffocate. The stillness shattered when a young woman with cascading blue hair spoke, her voice sweet yet laced with a gravity that demanded attention. "This is unnecessary," she declared, her gaze piercing through the dark towards the veiled figure at the center, whose features were hidden behind the mists of time.

Surrounding him were three women, their faces painted with a blend of anxiety and fierce resolve as they all stared at the glowing orb cradled in his hands. It pulsed like a heartbeat, a haunting, ethereal light casting flickering shadows that danced across their anxious expressions.

"Eliona is right. We shouldn't be doing this," another woman chimed in. Her white hair shimmered like the moon against the backdrop of night, and her piercing golden eyes glowed with a fierce determination that cut through the dimness. Her words resonated within the group, a shared understanding of the ominous fate that loomed ahead gripping their hearts.

The young man, quiet for a moment, finally broke the suffocating silence with a soft hum, a barely-there smile ghosting his lips as he met each of their gazes. Yet beneath that calm exterior churned a tempest of unspoken fears. "It's the only way," he insisted, his voice steady but burdened with the weight of unshed tears. The orb floated from his grasp, hovering ominously between them—a spectral beacon threatening to ensnare them all. "It's the only way to ensure your safety… to end this madness once and for all."

As he spoke, his fist clenched tightly, knuckles turning white as ghostly memories clawed at him—visions of past failures haunting him like specters. Each recollection cut deeper, a relentless reminder of the burdens he carried. Just as doubt threatened to erode his resolve, the woman with flowing pink hair reached out, placing her hand over his. "We're all in this together," she murmured, her voice a soothing balm. "You want to protect us, but we want to protect you too."

Her declaration was met with muted frowns from the others, a silent acknowledgment of her taking charge, but their nods echoed their agreement.

The truth of her words was undeniable.

Despite understanding the depth of sacrifice that lay ahead, a desperate urge to shield him from the encroaching darkness consumed him.

The young man's eyes darkened with pain. "I know… but it has to be done. I can't… I can't watch any of you die in front of me again." His voice cracked, a choked whisper carrying the weight of anguish as vivid memories of past battles surged forth—lives lost that he wished he could erase.

Sensing his rising despair, the women rallied around him, rising from their seats, encircling him in a protective embrace. Before he could comprehend the flood of warmth, Eliona's slender arms wrapped around his neck from behind, her sweet scent of cherries enveloping him as she whispered softly in his ear, "It's alright. We're all here, aren't we? So please, stop punishing yourself…"

Her words washed over him like a healing balm, soothing the jagged edges of his mind. The warmth of her embrace, combined with the presence of the others, cocooned him in a protective haven. In this moment, stripped of all his power, he felt utterly broken—traumatized by horrors that no one should ever endure.

Mereliona, the woman with the shimmering white hair, pulled him closer, her voice a mixture of firmness and tenderness. "Very well, we will adhere to your plan. But should things take a turn for the worse, I will not hesitate to protect you—by any means necessary." Her grip tightened, determination radiating from her.

The intensity of her voice sent a shiver racing down his spine—not from fear, but from an unsettling awareness of her growing obsession on him. Beneath her concern lay something darker, something possessive.

"I'll do the same," the woman with the blue hair chimed in, her voice smooth yet laced with a razor-sharp edge. "If this ends up hurting you, I won't hesitate to restrain you." A smile danced on her lips, but the warning in her gaze was unmistakable.

Though he appreciated their fierce loyalty, the necessity of his actions loomed larger.

The die had been cast.

And the moment for it to unravel was upon them.

What they termed a 'plan' was deceptively simple, yet they all understood the truth lurking beneath.

This was not the genuine course he had charted.

The young man had never been one to unveil his hand fully; there was always another layer, something hidden from view.

In the back of their minds, they all knew: he would challenge even fate itself to keep them safe.

"But…" Eliona's voice sliced through the silence, her blue hair cascading over her shoulders as she hesitated, searching for clarity. "Why must there be two entities?"

For a moment, he remained silent, his gaze darkening as he fixated on the orb suspended before them. When he finally spoke, his voice barely rose above a whisper. "To defeat a god, one must first attain freedom."

---

In the heart of a dark, desolate void, a young man stood immobile, swallowed by the suffocating darkness. His snow-white hair shimmered faintly, and his once-vibrant amethyst eyes now appeared hollow, devoid of life's spark. He was Eren—or what remained of him.

A frigid gust swept through the void, and from the depths of darkness, a figure of pure luminance emerged. It hovered before Eren, its smile twisted into a grimace that teetered on insanity. "Finally..." it croaked, its voice a piercing echo that penetrated the silence, reaching out to cup Eren's chin with an otherworldly grace.

"What... is this?" it muttered, its expression darkening as it scrutinized the anomaly Eren had become. It sensed it—something was dreadfully amiss with this boy. Every instinct screamed for escape, but desperation clawed at the luminous being. It needed a vessel. Consequences be damned; it would seize whatever it could.

"Heed my words, oh Keeper of Ignia. The time is nigh! Let the records fall as they were in times to come. Rewrite what was written and bestow upon me the rights of Incarnation. Take the one who lives in exchange for the one who was! Krasetia Roevinea!"

The figure's chant reverberated through the void, tearing the world apart into a monochrome swirl of black and white.

Mana trembled around them, acutely aware of the malignant force at play.

But then...

"What...?"

Everything halted. The void descended into a chilling silence, as if time itself had been unraveled.

"This... this can't be," the figure stammered, disbelief flooding its voice as it struggled to comprehend the impossibility. "How can a mortal... defy the Keeper...?"

-Ding!

[Scenario Reached] 

[System Protocol Overridden] 

[System Online] 

[Requirement → Timeline In Accordance] 

[Unknown Commands Detected In The Thread Of Time] 

[Forced Fusion Re-initiated] 

[System Attempting To Halt Unknown Influence] 

[System Overridden] 

[Fusion In Progress] 

The figure, sensing an impending catastrophe, attempted to flee, but it was too late.

[Fusion: 10%] 

As the last remnants of the figure's consciousness were devoured, a voice echoed through the void, smooth yet chilling.

...

[The Puppeteer]