It was his father. Alden. His father’s head.
The lifeless eyes stared at him, the mouth frozen mid-expression. Julian staggered backward, clutching his chest as if he could shield himself from the reality, but the image burned itself into his vision regardless.
His body trembled uncontrollably. "Father... no... this... this can’t be..." His voice broke, barely audible over the roaring silence of the void.
The woman—his mother—tilted her head slightly. However, she offered no words.
Ti seed to stretch, each second a torturous eternity. Julian wanted to speak, to scream in rage—but the void swallowed all sound. All he could do was stare, heart hamring, body frozen, trapped between disbelief and horror.
Then, suddenly, the silence shattered. Her voice—sweet, velvety, and impossibly familiar—cut through the void like a knife.
"Dear Julian," she said, her voice sending shivers crawling up his spine. "Look what I did."
She held the head out, and Julian’s stomach twisted.
"I killed him. Now, we can live together," she continued, her tone almost casual, as if discussing sothing trivial.
"Your mother did this... for you," she murmured, stepping closer.
"I want... your child.... Co. Give it to ," she urged, the smile on her face impossibly sweet and utterly terrifying.
Julian’s knees threatened to buckle. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words froze, lodged sowhere inside him.
"No... this... this isn’t real."
Regina’s smile widened, and she extended her hands slightly toward him. "It’s real, Julian," she said softly, "and it’s for us. Don’t deny what we can be together."
Just as Julian felt his sanity slipping away, the system’s voice tore through the suffocating darkness like a crack of thunder.
"Host."
The word echoed inside his skull, and the void trembled. The horrifying image of his mother dissolved like smoke, her existence fading into nothingness. A violent shatter followed—darkness breaking apart into a thousand glittering fragnts—and in the next heartbeat, Julian was back.
He gasped, air flooding into his lungs as his vision steadied. The familiar glow of the floating islands outside his window shimred faintly, a soft hum of Heaven’s energy pulsing through the air.
This was real.
He blinked rapidly, sweat trailing down his forehead. His heart hamred violently as he turned his head slightly—Annie was still there, curled up under the blanket, her chest rising and falling softly.
For a brief mont, he just stared.
Then the system spoke again, its tone calm but supportive.
"Host, that was the trial."
Julian’s breath caught. "Trial?" he repeated under his breath, his voice rough and uneven.
"Yes," the system replied. "The Heaven’s energy is forcing you to face what your soul fears most. It will tear at your mind, your attachnts, and your guilt. You must face it—not resist it."
Julian swallowed hard, his hands trembling slightly. The phantom image of his mother’s face still lingered in his mind—that twisted affection, the blood on her hands. He clenched his jaw, forcing the mory down.
"So that’s what it ans by recognition..." he muttered, realization dawning through the haze. "It’s testing ."
"Correct," the system said softly. "It is not strength Heaven seeks—but acceptance. Endure the illusions. Confront them. Only then will it acknowledge your existence."
Julian’s gaze hardened. He looked out at the horizon, where the currents of Heaven’s energy shimred faintly like threads of light weaving through the air.
"Fine," he whispered. "If that’s what it takes to be recognized, then so be it."
The system fell silent. Julian took another deep breath, centering himself as the faint hum of energy responded once more—alive, watchful, waiting for him to try again.
His fingers twitched slightly as he let his aura flow again, reaching out toward the Heaven’s energy. The air vibrated—gently at first, then heavily. The world blurred, colors dissolving into gray until everything was consud by that sa suffocating darkness.
He didn’t fight it this ti.
When his vision cleared, he was once again standing in that void. The sa chilling emptiness, the sa silence that pressed down on his mind. Then she appeared—his mother. Red hair cascading down her shoulders, skin pale in the blackness, and those familiar blue eyes staring at him with unnatural warmth.
"Dear Julian," she whispered, her voice both tender and twisted. "Look what I did. I killed him."
Her blood-stained hand lifted, and there it was again—Alden’s severed head, eyes open, mouth frozen mid-scream. She smiled sweetly, like a lover offering a gift. "Now we can live together. Your mother did this for you. Co... give what I want."
Julian’s chest tightened, but this ti he didn’t back away. He didn’t lose control. He forced himself to breathe, to rember what the system had said:
It’s not real.
However, the illusion wasn’t lying about what he had done. He had chosen her. He had crossed that line with his own mother.
But this was different.
This version of Regina, this twisted reflection, wasn’t his Regina. It was sothing born from his doubt—his guilt. The Heaven’s energy wasn’t testing his power; it was testing his heart.
He stepped closer. "You’re not her," he said quietly.
The figure tilted her head. "But I am, Julian. You always wanted close. You said you wanted—"
"Enough," he interrupted, his voice low but steady. "You’re not my mother. We may have broken rules, but we didn’t lose our soul. She didn’t do this."
The illusion faltered for a mont. The smile twitched.
"Didn’t she? Didn’t you?" Her voice was soft, almost affectionate. "You took her. You made her yours. And now the world will call it sin forever."
Julian’s eyes darkened. "I don’t need the world’s approval," he said coldly. "I chose her because I wanted to. And she chose . That isn’t sin—that’s truth."
The woman laughed, a sound like glass cracking.
When Julian opened his eyes again, the Heaven’s energy flowed freely around him, no longer resisting.
"Trial passed," the system murmured.
Julian sat back, his gaze falling on Annie still asleep behind him. His heart steadied as he whispered, "Mother... I’ll see you soon."
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