Hate [Edited]

"AHHHHHH!" Amael gasped as his consciousness returned in a jolt.

"Where am I?" he muttered, looking around. His surroundings came into focus—a small, dimly lit tent.

[I warned you… but you never listened.]

"Ugh," he groaned, his head pounding. As his gaze wandered, it froze on the horrific sight outside the tent. Bodies were strewn across the ground, the aftermath of a massacre. Guards and civilians alike lay lifeless, blood pooling around them.

What… what is this?

"Lily?" he called out, his voice shaky as he spotted a figure amidst the carnage. A girl stood there, drenched in blood, a sword clutched in her trembling hand. Her cold, emotionless expression softened the moment their eyes met.

"You're awake!" Her face lit up with relief as she dropped the sword and rushed toward him. The warmth in her gaze contrasted sharply with the grim scene around her. She wrapped her arms around him in a desperate hug, her body trembling as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Amael's eyes darted to the side, where he saw her—the woman who had read his fortune. She was dead.

"What happened here?" he asked, his voice low but firm. Lily didn't answer, tightening her grip on him instead.

Her embrace should have been uncomfortable, but it wasn't. He couldn't focus on that. His mind was in turmoil, emotions tangled beyond recognition. Something felt… wrong.

Inside, he was numb—a cold detachment consuming him. Yet, beneath the surface, anger simmered. Hatred coiled like a serpent in his chest, threatening to consume what little humanity remained.

[I warned you… Amael's fate as a villain is inevitable. These memories will catalyze what you will become.]

"Lily…" he said, his voice sharp. She reluctantly pulled back, her tear-streaked face searching his for reassurance.

"What happened?" he repeated, his amethyst eyes locking onto her blue ones with unsettling intensity.

"I-I… killed her," she stammered, glancing toward the fortune teller's lifeless body.

"Why?" His tone was not accusatory but coldly curious, as though her actions needed justification, not condemnation.

"I… I thought you were dying," she said, her voice trembling. "You were in pain, and I panicked. I thought… if I stopped her, it would save you."

Her expression twisted with horror as if she barely recognized her own actions.

Amael studied her, trying to reconcile the image before him with the person he knew. In the game, Lily had been kind-hearted, someone who drew a clear line when it came to harming humans—until her descent into darkness. But now, she crossed that line without hesitation.

What unnerved him more than her actions was the obsession he sensed emanating from her. It was overwhelming, an unnatural fixation, as though she had known him far longer than she should have.

"Liliana," he said, her name cutting through the air like a blade. She froze, her eyes wide.

"Who are you… really?" he asked, his voice steady and unyielding. "How do you know me?"

"I… don't know," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Don't lie to me," he warned, his tone icy. "If you do, this will be the last time I acknowledge you as an ally."

"I REALLY DON'T KNOW!" she cried out, her voice breaking as she clung to him. "From the moment I met you, I felt it—this overwhelming need to protect you, to be near you. I don't understand it! I don't remember how I got here, or why I feel this way, but I can't stop! I LOVE YOU! Too much… more than I should."

Her voice cracked as she continued, her desperation spilling over. "This feeling—it's beyond my control! It's not normal, I know that. Maybe I'm being manipulated. I can't even remember how I got there that day, or how I found myself holding you that night. But I can't stop it! I can't live without you! Please, don't leave me! I… I'll lose my mind if you do!"

Her voice cracked with raw emotion, and she buried her face in his chest, sobbing uncontrollably.

Amael sighed, his hand hovering before hesitantly resting on her trembling back. She was telling the truth, or at least he believed she was. Perhaps it was the entity that kept meddling with his fate, pulling strings behind the scenes.

Her desperation stirred something in him—a flicker of emotion buried deep in his fractured soul. It reminded him of a moment from his past life. A time when he'd been hurting, long before he'd adopted his cheerful facade to hide the pain.

"Fine. I won't leave," he said softly, patting her back. Her sobs quieted, though her grip didn't loosen.

"What about the others?" he asked, his eyes drifting to the blood-soaked corpses around them.

"They heard her scream," she said, her voice trembling. "They came to take you away. I couldn't let them." There was a possessiveness in her tone, one that didn't scare him for some reason.

Amael exhaled heavily. "Let's go," he said, his voice weary. He didn't have the strength to process everything now. Rest was all he craved.