Lyandra moved slowly, sitting down on the sofa directly across from Damian.
Her black eyes t his crimson ones, maternal pain visible in every line of her face.
"I need to explain how this skill works before we begin."
Her voice was steady despite the emotion underneath.
"When you’re under hypnosis, you’ll remain aware of everything happening around you. You’ll hear every question I ask. But the answers won’t co from your conscious mind trying to deceive or protect yourself."
She took a slow breath.
"The answers will co from the depth of your soul. From the absolute truth of what you believe. You won’t be able to lie or hide anything because the skill bypasses all conscious filters and reaches the core of who you are."
Damian nodded once, his expression completely blank.
"Understood. You can start whenever you’re ready."
Lyandra’s hand trembled slightly as she raised it, reaching out to cup Damian’s cheek gently.
The maternal gesture contrasted sharply with the interrogation about to occur.
"I love you unconditionally. I need you to know that. But I have no choice except to use this thod to understand what’s happening. So please..."
Her voice broke slightly.
"Please forgive ."
Damian looked into her eyes for a long mont, seeing the pain and desperation and love all mixed together.
Then he nodded slowly, accepting what had to happen.
Lyandra’s hand moved from his cheek to his forehead, her Aura activating with practiced precision.
"Hypnosis: Soul’s Truth."
The skill took effect imdiately.
Damian felt the change wash over him like a wave of heavy water.
’I can still think and process what’s happening around . But everything feels... distant and heavy. Like I’m wrapped in thick blankets that muffle the world.
My body isn’t responding to my commands. I’m... completely vulnerable.’
His body relaxed involuntarily, leaning back into the sofa, his eyes going unfocused and blank as the hypnosis settled fully into his mind.
He stared at Lyandra without really seeing her, his consciousness aware but disconnected from control.
Alaric’s face was stern, but his silver eyes showed pain at seeing his son reduced to this state.
Lyandra took a slow breath, steadying herself.
"What happened on the night you regained your mories?"
The question hung in the air.
Damian’s mouth opened, words erging in a flat, emotionless tone completely unlike his normal voice.
"I was sleeping. Suddenly, while unconscious, visions started appearing in my mind. mories from another life. Years upon years of experiences pouring into my consciousness like a flood. I lived an entire lifeti again in the span of a few minutes. Every mont of that life... All of it."
Relief flooded Lyandra’s expression.
’He’s telling the truth. That clears the suspicion of possession and replacent. It really was just the mories awakening.’
Luna’s face showed she’d always believed this, her expression vindicated but sad.
"What were you in that life? Can you describe what happened to you in that life?"
Damian’s fists clenched involuntarily, his body trying to resist despite the hypnosis forcing compliance.
But resistance was futile against an S rank skill designed to extract truth.
"I was Alessio D’Rossi."
The na erged like a confession torn from his soul.
"When I was nine years old, I killed my first man. I stabbed him in an alley for a piece of bread he was eating. A gang mber saw it happen and saw how I didn’t hesitate or show any remorse. He was impressed and brought into the organization."
His voice remained flat, but the words carried weight.
"I climbed the ranks faster, learned how to kill efficiently, how to manipulate, how to recognize weakness and exploit it. I started my own Mafia by fifteen. Built it through violence and strategic thinking."
Lyandra leaned forward slightly.
"Tell about that world. Was it like ours?"
"No. It was an ordinary world. There were no supernatural powers, Aura or awakeners or Monsters.
Just humans killing humans over resources and territory and ideology. It was a completely normal and mundane world, brutal in its simplicity."
His blank eyes stared past her.
"I beca the biggest Mafia boss in a third-world country by the ti I was twenty-five. Controlled the entire underworld with thousands of people working under my command. Millions in profit flowing through operations I’d built from nothing."
"What happened after that?"
Damian’s expression shifted slightly, sothing cold and hungry entering his blank stare.
"...It wasn’t enough. The hunger for power kept growing, expanding across borders. Taking over criminal operations in other countries. Eliminating all competition and building an empire that spanned continents."
His fists clenched tighter.
"I eventually controlled the underworld of the entire world. Personally killed thousands and gave orders that resulted in millions of deaths. Fought constantly against politicians and governnts and anyone who thought they could limit my reach."
Lyandra’s voice ca out strained.
"...Why? Why go against the entire world when you already had power? What drove you to such extres?"
A smile appeared on Damian’s face, chilling in its emptiness.
"Why not? What right did they have to live when children starved in the streets? When normal people suffered under the atrocities committed by the powerful? When corruption and greed poisoned everything they touched?"
His voice gained intensity despite the monotone delivery.
"Why not kill them? Why not slaughter everyone responsible? Why not end their pathetic existences and build sothing better on their ashes?"
Tears were flowing down Lyandra’s face now, seeing the pain and rage that had shaped her son’s previous life.
Luna was crying openly, her hands clenched together, her heart breaking for what Damian had endured.
Even Alaric’s stern face showed cracks, moisture gathering in his silver eyes.
They could all see... the killer that Damian beca in his past life, was the result of everything he suffered from his childhood.
But sothing strange was happening.
Throughout all of Damian’s answers, explaining his rise to power and his actions, there was no ntion of anyone guiding him. No reference to the old beggar who was responsible for the manipulation or orchestration of his entire existence.
As if sothing invisible was preventing those mories from being accessed, editing his responses in real-ti without anyone noticing.
"...Why were you so cruel? Why kill so many people?"
Damian was silent for several long seconds before responding.
"They all deserved death. Everyone I killed was involved in major cris or underworld operations or was a rich person controlling the world from the shadows. Sure, there were innocent people caught in the crossfire. Collateral damage and mistakes."
His blank eyes showed no remorse.
"But I’m no saint and never claid to be. Anyone who stood in my way deserved to die for the simple fact of being an obstacle.
Anyone involved in that world knew the consequences their actions would bring. Even I knew I would die eventually. So there was no need to bother about morals in a world where the foundation itself was... power."
His voice dropped lower.
"If you have power, you’re right and if you don’t have power, you’re wrong. That’s the only truth that matters. Everything else is just comfortable lies people tell themselves to sleep at night."
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