Aether stood at the edge of the crater, looking down on the camp. His cloak, getting blown from the back by the wind waving around without stopping. In his hand rested a small potion, filled to the brim with essence. With the rebellion and trying to keep everyone together, it has been hard to steal from people, since even if he manipulated his victim into thinking it was a noble from the Blue Rose, the others would see otherwise, and while normally they wouldn't care, since stealing is something normal.

Or at least it was, since now they were all united. He had united them, so he only had himself to blame.

What he was trying to say is that this potion was basically all the money they had, except the money they had saved for food. He had to make good use of it. And that was just what he was going to do.

He took a deep breath, knowing he wouldn't get many chances after this. There were many people in the camp, and while he wasn't manipulating their memories all that much, it was still exhausting.

Plus, Riven and the others were inside.

The plan was like this: he was going to make everyone inside the camp remember that the Abyss looked like their fellow man, that they were going to fight among themselves. But if he did just that, they would also realize they were wearing the exact same thing the Abyss wore. So he was going to have to make them remember they were wearing something else.

And to make his party inside safe, he was going to make them remember that they were higher officials. Luckily, he knew what a higher official looked like because of the leader of the camp, since he was one of them.

So while he didn't have to manipulate them into believing a story, it was still a lot to do, hence the essence potions.

It was going to be hard to balance his own limits and his will to succeed, after all, if he broke his mind too much, the Abyss would take over, and that wouldn't definitely end well. Who knew when the Abyss's hunger would be satisfied? He didn't know if he would just stop at destroying the camp.

So he had to be very careful.

He also didn't know how good this might work, since relics, while he wasn't sure, were probably also affected by his bane. Which means his earring was going to be weaker, but since it worked last time, he wasn't worrying all that much.

...

'Well, no point in delaying it.'

...

'Let's do this.'

...

'Let the bloodbath start.'

...

...

Riven felt the shift before he understood it.

One heartbeat, the camp was just noise, murmurs, footsteps, the usual boredom of people waiting for orders. The next heartbeat, the entire world snapped like a thread pulled too tight.

A scream tore through the air.

Riven flinched, hand already on the hilt of his blade, but he didn't draw it yet. He pushed open the flap of the tent and stepped into a scene that didn't feel real at first. His mind needed a moment, just one, short moment, to catch up.

The camp had become a battlefield.

Not against an enemy.

Against themselves.

Two men tackled each other into a supply cart, knocking it over in a crash of splintering wood. Another was wrestling a spear from someone he had been playing cards with five minutes ago. Someone else was already down on the ground, clutching at a bleeding arm, eyes wide with panic as his own squadmate raised an axe over him.

Riven stopped breathing for a moment, taking everything in, then he smiled wickedly.

The torches flickered wildly in the chaos, throwing violent shadows over faces twisted with fear, fury, confusion, like everyone was seeing a different enemy in front of them. Like they weren't looking at allies at all.

Aether.

While he knew the power of his earring, and he had seen it in action many times, it never seemed to surprise him. How it could create chaos everywhere,

Riven didn't know how far Aether had pushed himself this time, but the effect was unmistakable. Memories, twisted just enough. Perception, altered at the perfect angle. You didn't notice you were bleeding until you saw the cut.

Someone sprinted past Riven, eyes wild.

"They've infiltrated the camp!" the man shouted to no one in particular, swinging his sword at anyone who moved too fast.

Everything was going perfectly, all according to plan. Looking around, he stopped Lyra, who, unlike him, had already joined the fight. By what Aether told him, they saw them as higher officials, so they wouldn't attack them, but they could.

Which meant.

'We can go on a killing spree...'

He gripped his dagger, the same blade he had been given by Aether in his first mission, when it was only he and Aether. How he missed those days. It was so simple. But still, looking at how far they have come, he couldn't help but be emotional.

He dashed forward, his dagger hitting the chestplate of a soldier, but instead of piercing through, it recoiled off, sending him back.

It should be expected; they were probably a higher class and maybe even a higher rank than him, so it would be a miracle if he could even defeat one by himself. But that didn't mean he couldn't do anything.

While the soldier was still confused as to why he had attacked him, he kicked him with his foot towards another soldier, and the moment their gazes met, they had already started to fight.

Walking up to another guard, he scratches his armor with his dagger and hands it to another near him, causing them to fight.

It was true he couldn't fight himself, but that didn't mean he couldn't accelerate the process.

Looking beyond the camp, and into the darkness, he spotted a cloaked figure. His smile widened, knowing well who it was.

'This isn't going to take long.'

...

He said, looking at the many dead bodies that have already started to fill the camp. Blood stained the floor, and with the fight still continuing, the sound of the others fighting in the blood of their fellow man, without even knowing... it made his stomach twist, but he reminded himself that they were people from the Blue Rose, they were going to start treating them as humans whenever they also considered them as equals.

...

...

It had been a long night, full of screams and agony, but in the end, the sun emerged, just in time for its light to shine on the aftermath, a bloodied camp with no survivors. A camp that used to be filled with friends and laughter, now all gone.

He had gotten used to this sight, the sight of a ruin and despair.

Walking through the blood of the soldiers, his boots were stained in crimson. It made him remember the first time he had killed, the first time his hands were painted in red. He remembered how broken he was, since he considered him a monster. But now, he didn't think being a so-called monster was so bad.

'Killing is essential.'

There is no such thing as a second chance; it's hard for someone to really change. Temptation is a sin that will never leave our world. Even if a killer takes an oath to never kill, there will be a time when the temptation will be too much.

...

He liked who he was, who he had become, and who he will continue to become. Even if others think otherwise.

They could call him heartless all they want.

...

He wasn't going to argue. He didn't have to prove anything to anyone but himself. In the end, they are going to realize he was right either way.

...

It was time for them to go; they had achieved what they wanted, and they had stopped an entire camp. And while they could do the same for the others, it would just be risky and wouldn't give them any advantage.

They had already made it clear that this rebellion wasn't like any other.

...

This was the Second true Rebellion of the Withered.

...

"Wait, Aether."

As they were about to leave, someone called out to him. Someone whom he recognized as his cellmate. He hadn't expected him to get out, not because he couldn't, but he just didn't expect him to have the energy to do so.

Seeing him, the others had taken their battle positions, but with just his hand, he stopped them.

"What is it?"

..."It's nothing important, I just wanted to show you something... I just thought you would want to come, and only you."

Riven unshathed his dagger.

"That is outrageous, do you really think he would let our leader alone with-"

Riven suddenly stopped as he met Aether's gaze. Sheathing his blade back.

...

"I'll come."

...

...

Aether stared in awe, as after a while of walking, they had reached a gigantic wall, a wall that stood tall, separating the two kingdoms. His cellmate looks back at him, points to a ladder.

He bit his lip as they started to climb on top of it.

The way up was long, and really, he could hardly keep his excitement in place.

As they reached the top.

...

He finally saw it, the Caelurea kingdom, his home.

It was the first time he had seen it in so many years... it seemed so familiar and yet so distant at the same time.

He couldn't take his eyes off of it.

...

"I know it's not the time, but you know... You can leave. You can go back home, this moment. That is a choice you can make."

... Could he really, could he finally go back home... after all these years, could he finally be reunited with his family?

...

But wouldn't that mean...

"The question is if you want to do so. It's ironic, how everything came full circle... You can go back home and forget about the Withered... or continue your hunger for revenge."

...

"It's your choice, Aether. If you wish to go back home and abandon your thirst for revenge, your rebellion... your friends. Or if you wish to continue your rebellion, to stick with your friends... and abandoning your past self, and to fully indulge yourself in your revenge."

...

"Who do you want to be, the Prince of the Caelurea Kingdom, or the Leader of the Withered Second Rebellion?"

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